#Spencer Reid jail

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine - Chapter fifteen: "Love is pain"

Summary: Cat Adams kidnapped Diana Reid and Spencer has to do whatever it takes to bring her back safe, including facing his marriage ain't perfect in front of Adams. Will the Reids be strong enough to fix this?  Word count: 9.480  Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of Criminal Mind Ep 22, angst  A/N: So, Spencer didn't go to jail, but life wasn't easy for him either.  I hope you guys enjoyed it. 

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Spencer’s point of view

The minute I stood before Prentiss and she said Cat Adams had my mother, my entire world crumbled. It was the worst plot twist in history. It meant my darkest fears were becoming true. A fucking psychopath was after my family, and who knew how far she could get to hurt me.

- “We need your help”- Prentiss went straight to the point- “If we want to find your mother, we need you to talk to her.”

- “No fucking way!”- (Y/N) reacted right away.- “That fucking lunatic is obsessed with Spencer. If you take him to her, you are giving her what she wants”

- “It’s the only way we can find Diana.”- Emily added and looked at me. (Y/N) dropped my hand and widened her eyes, shocked.

- “It’s ok, Chipmunk.”- I whispered.- “I have to do it, for my mom. Before she hurts her.”

- “Then I’m going with you.”- my wife replied, and before I could argue, she added- “And this time, I am not taking no for an answer. If you wanna go, I’ll be there with you.”

- “(Y/N), I don’t think…”- but whatever Emily was about to say to my wife, was never heard by anyone, ‘cos one look from (Y/N) silenced her in her spot.

- “The jet is ready. JJ will be going with you.”- Prentiss finally said and I just nodded.

We didn’t talk much during the flight to Iowa, to the Mount Pleasant Women's Correctional Facility. (Y/N) drank coffee while I just stared out the window, thinking about every single word I had said to Cat the one and only time we had talked. She kept asking about my mom, and she knew I had a pregnant wife. She had clearly done her investigation about me, the same way I had done about her. But why couldn’t she let go? Why did she say we had unfinished business?

I knew Cat had been in solitary confinement for almost six months. I knew what that could do to the psyche of an inmate. At best, they suffer from delusions. At worst, they're psychotic. And I knew with her, it was always the worst scenario possible.

As we walked into the facility, I tried to focus. I wanted to be able to treat that case as I’d treat any other. I wanted to take my mother out of the equation, but I couldn't. Of course, it was impossible. My head and my heart were one. And though I knew I had to try to keep a cool head to save my mother’s life, the fact I had to break a psychopath’s act to get to her made everything impossible to bear.

- “Remember Spence, I’ll be here the whole time.”- JJ said and I turned to her in silence. My wife held my hand and didn’t say a word. I knew she would never leave me alone. I stared at Cat Adams from the other side of the glass, sitting at a table in the interrogation room and I knew I was ready to get my mother back.

- “If she gets too close, I’m gonna kill her.”- (Y/N) whispered as JJ walked to the door and opened it.

- “I’ll be ok, chipmunk.”- I replied and squeezed her hand. My wife tried to smile but failed miserably.- “Please, stay here.”

- “No, I’m going in there with you.”

- “(Y/N), I don’t think it’s a good idea”- JJ said, supporting me.- “If Cat has any fantasy about Spencer, having his wife around won’t help her at all.”

- “Trust me, I’ll be fine. And you’ll be near me the entire time.”- I whispered to my wife.- “Please.”- she just nodded, and I quickly kissed her forehead.

- “Ok, ready?”- JJ asked, and before I could say a word, I found myself walking into the interrogation room.

- “Spencie.”- Cat said and smiled at me like she was actually happy to see me.

- “Where is my mother?”- I demanded to know immediately.

- “I missed you.”- she ignored my questions and sighed, staring at me, while I did my best to remain calm. Which, of course, didn’t work.

- “What did you and Lindsey do to her? How did you…- but my questions were ignored, Cat raised her hand and stopped me.

- “Now stop. You don't get to walk in here and hiss at me like I'm the criminal.”- I had a million comebacks for that statement, but I let her talk. I needed to read her and force her to make a mistake.- “Now, we do this my way.”- Cat kicked the chair in front of her and I took it right away.- “Have a seat. How is (Y/N)? And the kids?”

- “We are not talking about my family.”

- “I thought we were gonna talk about your mom. She is family too, right?”

- “Where is she?”.

- “It's not fun, is it? Not being in control of the whole situation?”- a silly grin hung from her mouth as she stared at me. JJ stood against a wall, crossing her arms on her chest, keeping an eye on every move Adam made.

- “What do you want from me, Cat? Revenge ‘cos I put you here? This is where you belong. I didn’t lock you here, you got yourself in here.”

- “How do you stay sane with two kids?”- Cat asked the most random question, trying to force me into her conversation.- “A brain like yours needs stimulation, and I don’t think kids provide any.”

- “Being a father is the most rewarding thing I have ever done.”

- “Yeah yeah, whatever you say. I bet you miss reading.”

- “I still read.”

- “You need time for yourself. Time to be the boy genius you are. Being a genius and being a dad are two way too different things.” - she smiled at me like she knew how I felt. Like she could relate or understand how it felt to be a parent.

- “My kids are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Cat. But I don’t expect you to understand that feeling. It involves thinking about someone else except yourself.”

- “That's still not enough. You have to go someplace up here.”- she said pointing to her forehead. - “Somewhere to hide from all that madness, yells, diapers, Play-Doh... plus your mom around. That had to be crazy.”

Cat made a brief pause and stared at me. I just kept looking at her, trying not to move a muscle.

- “Do you want to see where I go? I'll show you. Come here.”- she moved her index fingers as she spoke, so I leaned on the table, resting my hands on it. Cat smiled and raised her hands to my eyes, but before she could do anything, JJ commanded.

- “No touching.”- but of course, Cat ignored her, she just touched my eyelids gently as I closed my eyes.

- “Close your eyes. Good. Now keep them shut. Sit back and relax. Now, when you open your eyes, I want you to look at me like I'm the first woman who’s not your wife you've seen in your life. Now... Open.”

- “Hello, Cat.”- I whispered as I played along with her fantasy. She giggled and stared at me pleased to see me. Honestly.

- “You're here! You're really here.”

- “There's nowhere else I would rather be.”- I replied and smiled at her.

- “You're good at this. You're so good at this, I almost believe you don't want to kill me.”

- “I don't want to kill you.”- I replied as she raised an eyebrow and kept looking into my eyes seductively. I wasn’t lying, I didn’t want to kill her. Unless she hurt my mother or any other member of my family.

- “No?”

- “No.”- I shook my head and did my best to remain calm.

- “What if I let your mother die? Then would you kill me? Or would you just… hurt me?”- the way she said that last word let me know she didn’t mean it in a bad way.- “Would you pin me down and leave bruises that don't go away?”- I leaned over her and kept staring into her eyes. I knew my wife hated every second of that conversation, but I had to get in Cat’s head.

- “Is that what you want?”- I whispered in a low voice.

- “I guess I just want to know if you would. If you could.”- she murmured looking at the ceiling, trying to look innocent and sexy.

- “No.”- I simply replied, not breaking eye contact.

- “No?”

- “It's not the kind of man I am.”- I guess she was pleased with my answer, ‘cos she bit her lips and simply demanded.

- “Do me a favor and tell blondie over there to step aside, because we're gonna play another game. And this time, we're going to find out exactly what kind of man you are.”- I didn’t say a word, I just turned to JJ and nodded. She hesitated for a second before walking toward the door to meet my wife at the other side of the glass.

- “Let’s play.”- I said staring at Cat's psycho smile

- “Let’s!”

I don’t know if my wife was ready for what was about to happen, but I knew it was going to be way worse than last time.

- “Are you hungry?”- Cat asked randomly.

- “No.”

- “Me neither.”- she replied, looking bored of the conversation.

- “So the same game as last time? I answer every question you ask honestly?”- I tried to set the course of the conversation, sitting back on my chair and looking at her.

- “No, this time you get to ask the questions.”- she proposed and I raised an eyebrow, trying to look intrigued.

- “About what?”

- “Well, I know a secret. About you. And you can ask me as many questions as you like to figure it out. But you only get one guess as to what it is. Now, guess correctly, I take your phone, I call our friend Lindsey, and I tell her to release your mother unharmed. If you don't…”- Cat tried to look all innocent as she put two of her fingers inside her mouth, pointing like a gun, and pretended to blow her brains out as she giggled.

- “Is there a clock?”- I asked, trying to look unaffected by her performance.

- “There's always a clock. Give it to me.”- I handed her my wristwatch and she stared at her carefully. - “Now, you'll have 4 hours.”- I opened my mouth, but she stopped me in a second.- “Not yet. You have to wait till the second hand comes around.”

- “You want to give me a hint before we start?”- I whispered as she kept staring at my clock.

- “Do I look like a girl that gives hints?

- “Actually you do.”- and I did my best to sound like I was flirting a little bit. I knew a little would go a long way in her head.

- “Ok, how about this? It's a secret you'll never admit to.”- there was a long and tense pause between us, where we just tried to read each other, and failed in the process.- “Go!”

(Y/N)’s point of view

Hell is a place on earth, and for me, that place was right there, in that waiting area, hearing that interrogation. It was ten times worse than it had been two years before, when Spencer and Cat had that “dinner date”, if you can call what they had a date.

I had to stare at her flirting with him, and my husband was letting her, even making her believe he was enjoying her attention. ‘Cause, of course, he is not enjoying her attention. No way. I am not even going to consider that thought.

- “I know what the secret is.”- Spencer announced.

- “You do?”

- “Why else would you put me through all this?”

- “Ooh. Phrasing it in the form of a question. That way it doesn't count as a guess. Very smart, doctor.”- Cat replied, playing with Spencer’s watch. I hated watching it in her hands. Something that was so Spencer’s. Something that he loved, tainted by her.

- “I'm gonna walk you through a scenario and your face is gonna tell me how close I am.”- my husband used his softest voice as he stared at her. And she didn’t move, she looked hypnotized by him. - “From the moment I arrested you, you watched and waited for the right time to take your revenge. When you learned I was taking my mom to live with us, you took it. You and Lindsey planned to kidnap my mother so I would know how it feels to have a parent manipulated because you want to prove that you and I are the same. Am I right?”

Cat yawned as Spencer stopped talking, I clenched my fists and just stared at the scene unfolding in front of me from the other side of the glass.

- “Mmm, sorry, I couldn't hold that in any longer. What were you saying?”- Cat teased, but Spencer didn’t even move as he replied.

- “Psychopaths get bored easily.”

- “You're right. Let's speed this up. Shall we?”- Cat stood up and walked toward my husband. My first reaction was to take a step closer to the door because I wanted to get there and stop her, but JJ grabbed my arm.

- “Wait. Let him do this.”

- “Sure, let’s leave Cat sit on my husband’s lap and fulfill her fucking dream.”

- “(Y/N), I don’t think she’s…”- but JJ couldn't go on talking. Cat Adams was, in fact, sitting on my husband’s lap. And he wasn’t arguing with her.

- “He is doing what he has to do to get his mother back”- I whispered and closed my eyes, trying to convince myself it wasn’t such a big deal.

- “Why don't you think about all the pain you've suffered in your life.”- Cat’s voice was soft and seductive. She even dared to play with the buttons of his shirt. - “What would I capitalize on, do you think? Is it the death of your mentor, SSA Jason Gideon?”

- “No. Because we caught the man who killed him.”- Spencer replied, not reacting to any of her movements, even when she was moving her fingers against his chin clearly mimicking oral sex.

- “What about Agent Morgan?” Cat paused and stared at his reaction. Still, Spencer didn’t give her any, so she moved closer and whispered in his ear. - “And your guilt over not visiting his little boy.”

- “He understands, I was taking care of my mother.”

- “Yeah, but you could make the time if you wanted to.”- Cat whispered and her lips were too close to his neck. I was getting close to my limit. I wanted her away from my husband.- “Why didn't you go?”

- “Truthfully, I got distracted. I was trying to figure out a way to help my mom. She didn't have time.”- Cat nodded and moved her lips closer to Spencer’s ear, ready to kiss it, but he just continued talking.- “Morgan, Savannah, and little Bobby did. So there's absolutely no shame in admitting that. Morgan would understand.”

So that was what Spencer was trying to get. How Cat had all that information. And by saying baby Hank’s name wrong, he got it.

- “I agree. That's why that's not the secret.”- Cat stood up from his lap and returned to her chair. JJ grabbed her phone and dialed Emily. As for me, I let out a small sigh and wished I could hold my husband tight. I knew he was going through hell. He even turned to look at the glass when Cat had her back at him, and I wish I could smile at him.

- “I love you, honey.”- I whispered, though I knew he couldn’t hear me.

- “Go ahead, JJ.”- Rossi’s voice on the other side of the line took me to reality. JJ had called the guys to tell them what was happening, ‘cos we needed to make progress and find Diana soon.

- “So Cat has a deep background on Spence. She knew about Gideon’s death and Morgan leaving the team for his family.”- JJ explained quickly.

- “She's throwing him off-balance.”- David pointed out.

- “Yeah, but Spence also purposely gave the wrong name of Morgan's son, and she didn't correct him.”

- “She must have gotten her hands on Reid's confidential FBI file. It would mention relevant team information but wouldn't name Morgan's baby because of confidentiality reasons.”- Emily barely breathed as she spoke. I turned to look at JJ, and she locked eyes with me as Rossi added

- “We were thinking she's been getting help from someone inside the prison. This goes deeper than that.”

- “So there is someone from our side helping Cat?”- I asked before JJ would hang up.

- “(Y/N), you know technically you shouldn’t…”

- “Oh come on, Emily!”- and I snapped before she could finish talking.- “We all know it’s impossible to keep any of us away from an investigation. So don’t waste your time, and tell me, is someone from our side giving Cat information? Does someone hate Spencer that much?"

- “We don’t know that yet, but we’ll tell you as soon as we can.”- Prentiss replied. JJ rubbed my arm, trying to calm me down, and I whispered “Thank you” to everyone and anyone who could hear me.

I turned to the glass again, Cat was still playing with Spencer’s watch, the one I was clearly going to replace with a new one ‘cos I didn’t want to think of her every time I stared at it.

- “Working deductively, the secret wouldn't be any of the topics you've already volunteered, because you wouldn't want to make it that easy on me.”- Spencer said and Cat looked annoyed by every word.

- “Genius, truly.”

- “So what is left that I wouldn't want to admit?”- my husband paused, and I hated the word that left his lips next- “Love. Is that what this is all about, love?”- Cat didn’t even blink as Spencer added- “Or my mother?”

Adams stopped moving, and kept her hands still for a moment, as Spencer played to read her. I don’t know if he was actually going somewhere with that statement, but I guess he had a plan.

- “No.”- he finally whispered- “For you. You want me to admit that I am actually in love with you.”

So far, I wasn't excited with that statement.

- “Don't get me wrong, I love my fairy tales, clearly, as much as the next girl, but I'm not delusional. I know you have always been in love with the same boring woman”- at least that bitch knew where she was standing.

- “Are you sure that’s not what you wanna hear?”- Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow as Cat laid back on her chair and smiled.

- “Very sure. So sure, in fact, that I had Lindsey leave a clue for you in your little scrapbook in your house.”

I remember Spencer had told me JJ found an XY written on Diana’s scrapbook, he thought it was related to Mr. Scratch, but clearly, it was part of Cat’s plan as well.

- “I couldn't have you come all the way down here and make a guess until I was positive. That is... Until I tested positive.”- and just like that, Cat rested both her hands on her belly and looked at it with… tenderness?

- “What, you're pregnant?”- Spencer spat those words in disbelief, lost in the way that conversation was going.

- “We're pregnant.”

What the fuck had Cat just said?

- “No.”- Spencer shook his head as Cat just smiled and lifted an imaginary glass to toast.

- “Oh, yes. Mazel tov.”

Spencer’s point of view

What Cat was implying made no sense whatsoever. I knew I hadn’t slept with her, I hadn’t even touched her. There was no way she was pregnant if she had been in solitary confinement, and if she was carrying someone’s baby, it wasn’t mine. We had never slept together.

- “It's not possible.”- I argued right away as I stood up and put my hands in my pocket, turning to stare at Cat’s reactions- “Even if you are pregnant, the baby's not mine.”

- “Except for the part where it is.”- she argued and smiled as if she had just won the argument.

- “That's completely preposterous. You've been in prison!”

I moved back to the table and sat down again. Cat wanted to take my mind off what was important: finding my mother. And to be honest, she found an effective way to do it. Now I couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N) on the other side of the glass, hearing every single word that we were saying. Of course, Cat knew she was there, and she was enjoying torturing my wife.

- “And?”

- “And we've never…”- before I could say it, Cat interrupted me.

- “I know. We've never…”- she didn’t say it either, she just smiled pleased and demanded- “Ask me how I did it. Come on, ask me.”

- “How did you do it?- at that point, I was annoyed and tired of playing her game.

- “I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time.”

How on earth did she know I went to Mexico? And how was I going to explain that to (Y/N)?

- “Mexico?”- the word was a whisper that let Cat know she had hit the jackpot.

- “What? You don’t remember that fun weekend? or… wait… your wife doesn’t know you went to Mexico to get your mother some experimental natural drugs?”

- “How did you know about that trip?”

- “I had eyes on you, Spencey.”- she replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat. - “Lindsey went on that trip along with you and you never noticed. She managed to drug you and that was it. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood.”

- “What, did she pretend to be you?”- the sarcasm in my voice was clear, and Cat replied the same way.

- “Why? Would that have worked?”

I leaned on that table and kept my eyes on her as I simply answered:

- “No.”

- “Yeah, I know, I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid hot or not list. I told her to pretend to be (Y/N). The love of your life. Who you managed to love in silence for over four years, Spencer. That has to be a fucking record. I bet your balls were blue the entire time. So silly... Yet so useful.”

- “You're lying.”

I knew very well that none of that was true. Cat just wanted to drive my wife crazy. Create doubt, considering the only thing that was real about her speech was my one big mistake: I had gone to Mexico behind my wife’s back.

- “Honey bunny, it's (Y/N). It's ok. Honey, hon... It's ok. Come here. Shh. You want this. It's ok. You want this.”

The words “Honey Bunny” felt tainted after leaving Cat Adam’s lips.

- “It didn't happen.”- I shook my head and tried to remain calm. But none of that mattered to her. She just went along with her lie.

- “Hey, I was thinking, if it's a boy, we should definitely call him Spencie Junior. And if it’s a girl…”- I stood up and stormed out of that room. But Cat just kept talking, and nearly laughing.- “But if it's a girl, I think we should call her (Y/N). I mean, it could be a tribute to your ex-wife, ‘cos after this, I don’t think she is gonna want to see you, ever again!”

- “Chipmunk, let me explain.”- I whispered as I stood in front of my wife. Her eyes were puffy and filled with tears as I tried to hold her hands, but she yanked them away quickly. - “Please, (Y/N). Let me explain. Yes, I went to Mexico behind your back, but none of what she is saying actually happened!”

But my wife didn’t even open her mouth. She just turned around and walked out of the room. I tried to follow her, but J grabbed my arm and gave me a file.

- “Spence, we might have something. Cat is three months. The timeline matches, but that doesn't necessarily mean…”

Of course, Cat wasn’t going to pretend to be pregnant and just leave it at that. No. She was going to ruin my life along the way. I threw the file against the glass and turned around to hit the wall.

- “I'm sorry, it's not you. I just need a minute.”- JJ stared at me in silence and nodded as I made my best effort (probably failing) in keeping my shit together. I looked at Cat on the other side of the glass. It took all the energy and sanity left in me not to open that door, walk in, and kill her. That woman, that psychopath, just wanted to ruin my life. And she was very good at it.

Instead, I walked out and tried to find my wife. I needed to explain and come clean in front of her. Tell her what had really happened. Why I had ended up in Mexico, and how I had never been drugged or whatever Cat had implied.

- “Not now, Spencer.”- (Y/N) whispered when I found her. She was just walking out of the bathroom, trying not to cry. I shook my head and held her hands. They were cold and still wet.

- “She is lying.”- I tried to explain

- “You didn’t go to Mexico then?”- my wife raised an eyebrow as her eyes were glued on me. She wasn’t even trying to read me, she didn’t need to. She knew me that well.

- “I did, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, I just didn’t know how to…”- (Y/N) raised her hand and pointed at me with her index, and I stopped talking right away.

- “Stop it, right there. We’ve known each other for almost twelve years, been married for six. I know this is not the first time you lied to me. But I want you to think very wisely about the next words you’ll say, ‘cos if you try to tell me you felt scared and didn’t want to let me down, or that you didn’t know how to deal with what you were feeling ‘cos you were scared to lose me, I swear, I’m taking all my things, the kids, and you’ll never see me again!”

It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact. I knew my wife enough to understand where that was coming from. We had a history, a past of fears and hidden truths I couldn’t escape from. It wasn’t just my story with Dilaudil when we were just friends or how long it took me to deal with my feelings and tell her I loved her. It was how my fears would constantly make me trip and overthink every single thing I did. It was me getting Dilaudil when they told us Emily had died, and keeping it behind (Y/N)’s back instead of telling her how I actually felt. It was me being constantly afraid of not being enough for her. It was so much to even begin to deal with that day outside a bathroom in a high-security prison in Iowa.

- “I just didn’t know what else to do to help mom.”- I whispered and sighed. It was my truth. At least the majority of it.

- “We are a fucking team, Spencer. Not just for work. For better or worse, at home, you and I are the ones calling the shots and making shit work, together. If we don’t do it together, then we are fucked. And right now, it feels like we are fucked.”- my wife’s eyes were filled with tears as she looked around the hall and shook her head.- “But we have no time for this ‘cos we need to find Diana. So let’s go back to the room and you are gonna keep talking to that psycho until she gives us something that’s not a lie.”

- “I am… so sorry, (Y/N).”- I whispered and held her hands as I did. - “But believe me, I never… she is not pregnant with my baby.”

- “I know.”

I kissed my wife’s forehead and whispered I loved her before I walked back to the interrogation room. Cat was sitting with her arms on the table, looking rather bored.

- “Let's pretend you're telling the truth.”- I said.- “That means I guessed it, right? The secret, the one I don't want to admit to? It's my child?”

- “Is that your guess? You only get one, remember?”- she replied and looked at me, honestly bored. I made a pause, playing the part. I knew now what I had to do to make her trip.

- “No. It's too easy.”- I murmured.

- “Believe me, getting pregnant with your baby was not easy, kudos to your wife for doing it twice.”- Cat stated and I sat in front of her, correcting her.

- “You misunderstand. It's too easy emotionally. Because I can take your child from you. The child I had absolutely no role in creating, but a child that I would care for better than you.”

- “That's rude.”

- “It's true. You can't be a mother, Cat. I'm not trying to insult you.”- those were facts.- “It's your psychological makeup. You literally do not have the emotional skills to care for another human being. You'd lose interest in your own baby the way a 6-year-old loses interest in a pet hamster.”

- “Does that happen to Raven a lot? I know she is not six yet, but it sounds like you know the feeling.”- Cat smiled as she rested her back on the back of the chair and looked at me.- “You are such a good father. I’m happy our baby will have a strong father figure.”

But I choose to ignore her.

- “This baby is simply a means to an end, which is to keep me here playing your game, guessing like a fool, assuming something I never should have assumed in the first place.”

- “And what would that be?”- Cat was honestly intrigued, I could tell by the way she asked immediately about my inference.

- “My mother's already dead. She was dead before I walked in here.”

- “She's not dead.”- her words were filled with anger as if I had just insulted her.

- “Yes, she is.”- I answered as I stood up and walked toward the door.

- “No, because that would be cheating and I don't cheat. You cheat!”- I cheat. Why would she think so? Because of my stunt with her all those years before?

- “I'm done playing.”- I ignored her and continued walking.

- “Get back here!”

- “Goodbye, Cat.”- I opened the door and was about to walk out of that room when I got what I wanted.

- “I'll let you talk to her!”

Bingo.

I looked at my wife from the corner of my eyes and she nodded. I turned around and walked back to Cat. I knew JJ was going to arrange for Garcia to trace that call from my phone. I took it from my pocket, unblocked it, and gave it to Cat. She dialed and put it on speaker, and her eyes were glued to mine the entire time.

- “You're early.”- Lindsay’s voice announced at the other side of the line.

- “Yeah, I know.”

- “Did he guess?”

- “No, not yet. We need proof of life.”- Cat said as she kept staring at me. I was anxious, I needed that call to last enough so Garcia could track it.

- “All right. Hold on.”

- “Spencer!”- I heard my mother’s desperate voice and my heart broke into a million pieces for the hundredth time that day.

- “Mom! Mom! Are you ok?”- I asked as I quickly grabbed the phone from Cat’s hands.

- “I don't... know.”

And before I could ask another question, or mom could tell me how she was, a gunshot interrupted us and I never heard her voice again.

- “Mom!”- I lost it at that minute, I couldn’t keep it together any longer.

- “Gotta go.”- Lindsay announced and ended the call.

- “Mom!”- I yelled and turned to Cat, walking closer to her as JJ and (Y/N) stepped into the room. - “What the hell was that?”

- “I don't know!”- she replied and I could hear JJ behind me, telling me to calm down. But I couldn’t.

- “Lindsey said you were early. Was that a signal?”- no answer, I hit the table and kept looking at Cat, trying to make sense of what had just happened. -“Was that a prearranged signal to kill my mother?! Tell me the truth!”

- “I am!”

- “Tell me the truth!”- I hit the table with my fist again, and Cat just started yelling.

- “I am!! Do you want to know the truth? Your mother is an Alzheimer's-ridden moron who's getting dumber day by day, and if she's dead, it's your fault.”

And that was when I actually lost it. I pushed the table and the chair away from us, grabbed Cat by the shoulder, and pushed her against the wall, as hard as I could as my hands wrapped around her neck, choking her.

- “Spence!”- JJ yelled and tried to stop me.

- “I'm going to kill you.”- the words left my mouth with venom, as an honest threat. I wanted to do it. End her right there, and avenge my mother and my family for all the pain that woman had put them through.

- “Spence!”- JJ grabbed my arm but I continued squeezing.

- “I'm going to kill you!”

- “Spencer, she's pregnant!”- it was (Y/N)’s voice that brought me to reality for a second. She grabbed my shoulders and tried to force me to stop hurting Cat.

- “I'm going to kill you.”- I repeated as a mantra, my eyes stuck on hers, evil filling her look. I was choking her and she was in fact enjoying it.

- “She's pregnant! Stop it! Spencer, please!”- my wife repeated and pushed me harder. My eyes were glued to Cat as I dropped my hands and watched her coughing a few times. My wife and JJ pushed me out of that room before I could finish what I had started.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I had never seen Spencer lose it the way he did that day. Never. It was a side of him that only Cat Adam brought up and I didn’t like it. It wasn’t normal. She was a nemesis. It was toxic, and somehow I was in fact jealous of her. But I couldn’t deal with it at the moment. Calming my husband down, trying to keep a cold head, and bringing Diana back were the only things I had to worry about at the moment. And trust me, it was enough with all that.

He had stormed out and JJ kept telling me we had to go after him.

- “Give him a moment to breathe”- I replied the third time JJ said we should keep an eye on him.

- “Did you see what had happened there? I had never seen Spence acting like that.”

- “His mother might be dead, what did you expect?”- it felt like I had to draw a picture so JJ could see things clearly.

- “Why are you so mad at me? I haven’t done anything to you!”

- “I am not mad at you! I’m just telling you, you have to let Spencer breathe!”

- “We don’t have time, (Y/N)! We have to catch Lindsay!”- JJ’s phone rang and ended our argument. A very hyperventilated Garcia started rambling about an explosion reported in Richmond County, which gave us hope Diana was still alive and well.

- “Thank you, Garcia.”- I whispered before JJ hung up the call.

- “We should let Spencer know this. He is probably sure his mother is dead.”- I sighed and nodded, and JJ nearly sprang out of the room to find my husband.

He was sitting on the floor in one empty cell. It broke my heart to look at him like that. I was mad at him, of course, but I still loved him and I didn’t want him to be so miserable. I knew both his mother’s health and what he had just done to Cat were hunting his head.

- “Richmond County police just reported a gas station explosion. One victim, a male. Whatever Lindsey did, we have to assume your mom's still alive.”

JJ whispered as she sat on the floor next to him. I stood in front of him and locked my eyes on his features. His hair was a mess, he looked exhausted. His head was clearly going a hundred miles per hour. And yet, he looked so sweet and caring. It was hard being mad and worried about him at the same time.

Spencer looked at me and I held my breath for a short second. He wanted to tell me he was sorry and ashamed of what he had done. I knew it. It wasn’t himself at that minute, and to be honest, I couldn’t blame him. Cat Adams brought the worst of him every time they were in the same room. It was toxic.

- “I'm really scared this is who I am now.”- my husband murmured and looked at his hands ‘cos he couldn’t look me in the eyes.

- “No. Don't say that.”- JJ replied and reached for his hand. I just stared at them, not really knowing how to act or even reply to Spencer at the moment.

- “Jennifer, I want to kill her.”

- “But you didn’t.”- JJ caressed his arm and I sighed, kneeling to look him in the eyes, even when he couldn’t look at me as I spoke.

- “Spencer, you can’t blame yourself for losing it with Cat Adams. She knows how to push the right buttons to drive you crazy.”

- “I shouldn’t let her get in my head.”- he replied, still beating himself for his actions.

- “She messed with your family. I understand why you did it.”- Jennifer tried to console my husband, but he didn’t take it.

- “You wouldn't have.”- he said looking at JJ.- “Neither would have you.”- Spencer finally looked at me and despite the fact I was still crazy mad at him, I cut him a short smile and held his hand.

- “I would have if anyone tried to hurt my family and come up with a crazy plan to convince my husband I’m pregnant with some other man’s baby. Trust me. This prison would be on fire right now.”- Spencer tried to smile but his lips barely curled up.

- “What happened doesn't make you a bad person, Spence.”- JJ added- “'Cause you know who does think like that? That... that in you doing what you had to do to survive somehow makes you a psychopath? She does!”

JJ said those words and somehow it all made sense.

- “That's the secret. What I don't want to admit about myself.”- Spencer said as he looked at me. I knew immediately what he meant: that Cat knew there was a dark side of him he didn’t want to deal with. A dark side who was sick and tired of his mother’s disease. A side that wanted to give up, that was too tired to continue trying, and just wanted to quit taking care of her.

A side of him that didn’t even want to try to fix things anymore.

- “And she knows ‘cos Lindsay told her everything happening at our place”- I added, embarrassed, mortified, but yet at the same time, relieved we knew what Cat wanted us to figure out.

- “She must have heard every argument, every little fight…”- Spencer’s eyes were bursting with anger one more time. We just looked at each other for a few seconds, reliving in our heads our worst moments in the last couple of months. It’s sad to admit there hadn’t been a few. And the fact Cat knew about it made them ten times worse.

- “Hold up.”- JJ said, lost in our conversation.- “Let's play this out because she will not lose to you twice. She already said that this wasn't about the two of you being the same.”

Spencer and I stood up, and both of us started pacing across the room as JJ looked at us, trying to make sense of our ramble.

- “She's all about the game. She thinks that I cheated last time because I lied about her dad, so it's integral to her that she beats me by following the rules.”

- “Yeah, but, be honest: she is not gonna let you win this one. She wants to hurt Diana. She’ll make sure she’ll win.”- I added, knowing I was speaking a very painful fact.

- “Which means she needs to make sure I’m at my lowest with you, with my mother. Playing by her rules a game I can't win, so she…”- my husband stared at me and for a second, I could see a hint of hope in his eyes.- “I got it.”

Spencer’s point of view

I stormed back into that room and looked at Cat. She was sitting, playing with my watch, like there weren’t lives at risk as we spoke.

- “Guess that's one way to get you to put your hands on me.”- Cat said and didn’t even look at me.

- “Dance with me.”- I demanded as I stood in front of her. She didn’t pause her movements, but raised her eyes at me, curious by my demand I guess.

- “Why?”

- “Because I don't want the people watching us to hear what I'm going to say next.”- that was enough for her to yield and stand up. I held her right hand and wrapped my arm around her waist as I felt hers on my shoulder. I hated every second, and it only made it worse to know my wife was watching from the other side of the glass. But I needed to get that shitty situation over with.

I knew there were cameras in that interview room, and that Penelope could stream everything that was happening in there to any computer she wanted.

- “You had eyes on me besides Lindsey, didn't you?”- I whispered as we danced to no music, making circles slowly.

- “Spencie, don't ruin the moment.”

- “I don't want to, but I'm on the clock. Answer my question. Am I right?”- Cat had her head on my chest as we danced and moved to lock her eyes with mine to answer.

- “Yes, you're right. I wanted to make sure things were just as uncomfortable for you at home as they were for me inside this hole.”

So someone else was helping her. Someone who probably had connections at the bureau and could tell her all the details of our life to a serial killer in jail. If it was a guy, he was the one who got her pregnant, that was for sure.

- “That's how you timed everything so perfectly. Like kidnapping my mom the weekend we were out of town and my relationship with my wife was in a rough spot.”- I murmured and we continued dancing. Cat moved her arms and wrapped them both around my neck as she stared at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

- “Rough spot? Aren’t you going easy on that description? You were hating your wife, your mom, and your life.”

- “No, I wasn't.”- I replied staring right into her eyes.

- “Please Spencie, she can’t hear you. Just face it.”- I sighed, pretending to struggle to find the right words. That was what Cat wanted. She wanted me to face the fact I was a bad husband, a bad son. A bad father. Just like hers.

- “Look, you are the last person on earth I want to discuss my marital issues with. But if you must know, things aren’t always easy, and sometimes you…”- I paused as she stared at me in silence.- “Well, sometimes you just wanna leave.”

- “Well, look at that. You might end up saving your mother's life after all.”

We continued dancing in silence for a moment. My mind kept going a hundred miles per hour, keeping my facade in front of her, and trying to be two steps ahead of her.

- “They won't get there in time.”- Cat said suddenly, letting me go. - “They must be on their way, right? Your team is too good to wait around, but, you know me. I always have a contingency plan. So, they're walking into a trap.”

My heart stopped as she spoke. I hated her so much it was taking everything in me not to kill her.

- “And the only way out is if you give me your phone and your guess, right now.”- she added, as she played with my necktie. I reached for my phone and gave it to her. She grabbed it quickly and sat down on the chair. All I could think of at the moment was about all the pictures of my babies I had in there that I didn’t want her to see.

- “When we first sat down, you said you were going to show me what kind of man I am. And you have.”- I said as I sat on the table in front of her and watched her dial a number.

- “Every time I touch this, you're getting warmer.”- she replied and bit her lower lip. I hoped Penelope was ready to stream that conversation.

- “At first I was furious because the secret had to be the baby inside you. How could it be anything else? But then I realized that somehow, you knew how I felt about my mother and my marriage.”- I confessed, and she smiled.

- “So which is it, Spence? Come on. Don't fumble it now. You're at the one-yard line.”

- “You're not pregnant with my child.”- I said and leaned closer to her.- “You got pregnant with Wilkins to put me in as compromised a position as possible. But it should be mine.”- I paused for a second, ‘cos I knew what I was about to say was going to hurt my wife, and I didn’t want her to listen.- “I wish it were mine. Because you and I... We deserve each other. That is the real secret.”

Cat Adams stared at me with tears in her eyes as she held my phone tight between her fingers for a few seconds, until she finally dialed.

- “Kill her”- I froze but tried my best not to show. That was what I knew Cat would say, but apparently nothing happened at the other side of the line, ‘cos she stood up and repeated her command- “Lindsey, I said…”

- “You bitch. You're pregnant?”- I overheard and Cat turned around with fire in her eyes and looked at the security camera on the wall.

- “Lindsey, sweetheart, it's complicated, ok?”

There was a long silence, all I could hear was my heart beating on my throat. Until the door opened and JJ stormed in.

- “We're clear.”- I took my phone from Cat’s hand immediately and turned to Jennifer.

- “Is my mom ok?”

- “Yeah. She's fine.”- she replied and I felt my whole life returning to my body. (Y/N) was standing behind JJ, tears rolling down her cheeks. I wanted to run and hold her, but Cat’s words stopped me from moving.

- “We do deserve each other, by the way. You guessed right.”- she sat down and pretended to be unbothered by losing her game.

- “You lied, by the way. You were going to kill my mother regardless.”

- “Yeah, I think you are actually sorry I didn’t kill your mom. I wanted to do you a favor, you know. And all those arguments with your wife, that’s gonna leave a nasty scar in your perfect marriage. You have thought about leaving this behind, and once you cross that line, you can't ever go back.”

I walked to her in a quick move and handcuffed her to the chair. I kept my eyes on her the entire time and before I left, I simply whispered:

- “Watch me.”

But Cat was right about one thing though: my idea of leaving the BAU behind was stronger than ever. She thought I wanted to leave my family. But in reality, I was planning to leave my job.

I walked out of that interview room and rushed to hold my wife tight. I knew we were at our lowest. I knew things were tough. But there was nothing I wouldn’t do to fix it. To show her I was the man she wanted me to be. I needed to prove to her I loved her more than anything.

- “Let’s go to the jet.”- JJ whispered and rubbed my back.- “We shouldn’t be here when they take her back to her cell.”

But my arms were wrapped tight around my wife and I didn’t want to let her go. She took a deep breath and moved her hands from around my neck to my side.

- “I can’t do this without you.”- I whispered, and though it was a statement, it sounded like a plea. I didn’t want her to lose her faith in me after what had just happened. I knew we had to talk and fix things, but it was a fact: I was never going to do anything right in life if she wasn’t by my side. No doubt.

- “You won’t have to.”- my wife replied and held my hand.- “Let’s go get your mom.”

The jet flight felt eternal. We called (Y/N)’s parents to tell them my mother was safe. The kids were already asleep so we couldn’t see them. It just made the trip feel longer. I needed to make sure my whole family was safe, hold them close to me, kiss their cheeks, and tell them I loved them.

Of course, I couldn’t talk to my wife about the trip to Mexico and how to fix our problems. I knew she was still mad at me, but I also knew we were going to fix things between us because we loved each other. Marriage isn’t easy, not even when you are crazy in love. Love is not enough, who would have thought? You need a lot more than just love to make it work. Luckily, we wanted to make it work.

I held (Y/N) close to me the entire flight. My arms were around her waist, my hands held hers and when I stood up to get us some tea, my eyes never left her for longer than 30 seconds.

- “She is going to forgive you for lying.”- JJ whispered when she stood next to me- “You did it to protect her.”

- “I think I did it ‘cos I was embarrassed.”

- “Of what?”

- “Not being able to deal with everything.”

- “No one can.”- JJ rubbed my arm a few times, trying to be comforting.

- “I thought I could.”- I confessed and turned to look at my wife, who was wrapped in a blanket looking at the night outside the window. - “Now I know I just need her by my side to deal with life.”

When we got to the BAU, at three in the morning, the entire team was waiting for us with my mom outside the elevator. I held her tight and broke into tears. She asked me to never leave her again and my heart broke at those words. I loved my mom. No matter how bad things were, she was the only person who took care of me growing up. I couldn’t leave her. I was the man I was because of her effort and work.

We drove to Sofia’s house ‘cos (Y/N) didn’t want to go to our apartment yet. It felt like a crime scene after what had happened, and it was the last push I needed to finally start looking for a house to buy.

My mom and wife fell asleep as soon as they rested their heads on a pillow, but I wasn’t as lucky. I kissed (Y/N)’s forehead and looked at her sleeping as I held Vincent in my arms. He was drooling, looking adorable. Raven was hugging her mother as she dreamed, and my whole world felt at peace, finally. They were safe.

Derek Morgan knocked on the door at five am, holding donuts and coffee. I had barely slept an hour, but I needed to talk to him more than I needed to rest. Sofia woke me up, saying someone was looking for me, and of course, the first thing on my mind was that an unsub was going to try to hurt my mom or the kids.

I was shocked when I saw Morgan there, with a short smile, donuts and coffee in hand.

- “I got the feeling you need a good talk right now.”- I didn’t reply, I just hugged him and broke into tears. Morgan tapped on my back a few times.

- “I’m here kid. Tell me everything.”

It only took Morgan half an hour to understand everything that had happened in the latest months. How living with my mom had been a noble gesture, but a critical mistake for our family. How I had messed up everything by taking one trip to Mexico to get experimental homeopathic drugs to give my mother. How for the first time, me and my wife had fight after fight, knowing it was all due to exhaustion and not because we didn’t love each other.

- “You know kid, marriage is work. No matter how much you love each other. You have to remember that.”- my friend tapped on my back as we sat on Sofia’s front steps, eating donuts and drinking coffee.

- “I know. I just… never imagined we would be like this. I love her so much it hurts, I can’t picture my life without her. I would kill for her… but I also have to do the dishes.”

- “Yes, and you have to do the fucking dishes, man..”- Morgan chuckled and finished his coffee.- “Now, don’t be a stranger, Reid. I miss you”

- “Me too. A lot.”

- “I’m a phone call away. Maybe you and your pretty girl could come over with the kids for a weekend. I’m sure you two need to get out of town as soon as you find a new facility for your mother.”

- “We do, we definitely do.”

- “Then it’s settled. You are all coming to visit and you’ll get away from all this…”- Morgan made a pause, trying to find the right words to define our job.

- “Murder?”

- “I was going for chaos, but that works just fine.”- I chuckled and we both stood up.- “Now, kid, I have to go. My wife and baby boy are waiting for me back home.”

- “Thank you for your visit. It really means… the world to me.”

- “You are my kid brother, forever. I will always be there for you. Never forget that, ok?”- Morgan hugged me and I just nodded, a knot in my throat made it impossible for me to speak.

- “And take care of that pretty girl of yours. She is a force to be reckoned with, and she loves you more than anyone I have ever met.”- I nodded and felt Morgan tapping on my back one more time before he walked away.

I wanted to spend the day with my wife, our kids, and my mother, after the hell we had been through. But as soon as I stepped into the house, I found (Y/N) rushing down the stairs, holding her phone as tears fell down her eyes.

- “Scratch has Emily.”

I surely didn’t see that coming.

- “And Stephen is dead.” 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Next chapter

[incorrect-ralvez]

Spencer: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind.

Spencer: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months.

Spencer: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year?

Emily: This is Monopoly.

[k-illdarlings]

Ngl i kinda ship luke and reid hahahaah

[snarkylinda]

The way that Spencer ALWAYS sputters the key to solve the case even when being whumped is so funny- like it's not that after he is stable at the hospital they get answers out of him- NO, ITS AT THE FUCKING MOMENT! At the ambulance, at demons? He found his own cure in Amplification?? The way that he was the only thing that kept the doctor from dying as he had an hole at his leg?? Giving signals to the team through the cameras while being literally kidnapped??? Playing Cat literally minutes after he stabbed himself to survive?? He saved himself at Revelations.

The only time I can recall where he didn't directly stated the answer to the team was in 15x10, because y'know....he was on a coma. But even then he murmured a "He is alive...." Before collapsing 😭

Like I get that when you whump a character you don't want them to be COMPLETELY passive and be an active actor on their story in order to get that sweet cathartis.... But like come on at least wait until the bleeding stops 😭 let me guy REST

[thatsadfem]

Post-jail Reid headcannons (TRIGGER WARNING-DEPRESSION/SUICIDE ATTEMPT/ED/SH/SA)

Severe nightmares and insomnia

Struggles with self-care, so much so that JJ has to help him

Depression big time and anxiety

Mention of drugs makes him visibly uncomfortable

Everyone on the team makes an effort not to mention jail in front of Reid

Completely avoids romantic intimacy, because he still believes he was SA'd in Mexico, and it makes him feel sick

He spends hours researching Cat Adams, to the point that Garcia blocks her name and case in his computer and takes his files away

He spends hours just sitting with his mother and holding her hand

Brings in Emily flowers when he starts again for helping him so much in jail, she starts crying

When he starts staying at his apartment and not JJ's house, Luke does lots of check ins and stays for dinner all the time so that he knows that Spencer is eating

Starts getting medicated for his depressive episodes

Likely begins to struggle with SH and has an attempt, but Luke stops him and promises to tell nobody as long as he starts going to therapy

Looses a lot of weight and struggles with eating

[doehoney]

Criminal Minds season 2 episode 15 doesn’t exist to me personally

[goth1c-pinki3-pi3]

thinking about when brennan’s parents disappeared and she was sent to foster care, and if she had a younger brother who got adopted by a schizophrenic woman who walked in and thought he was her son, and neither brennan nor Russ knew what happened to him until the fbi needed profilers and brennan was the first one they called. She shows up and recognizes his face but isn’t sure and doesn’t want to trust her gut but Spencer remembers her. Remembers everything. And calls her by the nickname he came up with when he still couldn’t say Temperance.

“Tempe?”

same au as this post

[lilliesm]

hes too good to be at a prison, the man is just lovely hazel doe eyes and infodumps

[only-one-brain-cell]

SPENCERS ONLY THOUGHT THIS SEASON REALLY IS MOM HUH

[ghost-proofbaby]

should i rewatch criminal minds and give my spencer reid fanfic another go after i finish up twenty four hours?

i just miss him terribly

[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two!!! | part one

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper, reader gets injured, innuendos for smut (they did it) | words: 1k again im sorry but i have plans for spence!!

It finally happened. The day everyone had been dreading. Finally, your hot temper got you injured during a case.

You caught a guy, he fit your profile exactly. You knew deep down it was him. He didn't react well to confident women, so Hotch sent you in to interrogate him. You would break him down, reduce him to mere atoms.

"Come on, Charlie," You had your hands on the table, leaning over to him. "We know you killed those women. We have all the evidence right here. Save yourself some jail time and just admit, yeah?"

Charlie kept his eyes trained to the floor, "I didn't kill those women." He stated, voice quiet.

You could see the sweat on his face, the way his foot tapped. "You can't even look at me!" You laughed, "Of course you didn't kill those women. You can't even look at one without almost pissing your pants." You gave Charlie a small tsk, "But I guess that just goes to show you aren't so tough, huh? You couldn't control a situation, not if you wanted to, not even if you tried. You--"

Stars. You saw stars and heard a loud clang. It took you a moment to realize you were on the floor. You felt absolutely nothing for a second, then a searing hot pain in your head. Finally, you looked up to see Charlie had a thick, sharp rock in his hand. He had struck you. The table and chair were on opposite sides of the room, and there was blood on the rock. Your blood. You pushed yourself up to the wall, unable to stand up or speak.

"Yeah? I can't control a situation?" Charlie taunted, "Guess you got your fucking profile wrong, you little bitch!"

The door was busted open, Hotch and Derek running in. Derek got the guy under his control as Rossi and Spencer ran in.

"Hey, hey," Hotch kneeled beside you. "Come on, let's stand." You felt his arms under you, lifting you up.

Spencer was quick to take one side of you, helping you out of the room. "Hey, sweetheat, it's alright," You heard Spencer say. "You're okay now. Come on, say something!"

The genius refused to leave your side, even as the paramedics came into the room. One went to touch your head, but you flinched away harshly, grabbing his arm. "Don't you dare touch me," You hissed. It was the first thing you'd said.

Your team watch in shock, surprised you refused help. Spencer was quick to jump in, recognizing you were in flight or fight mode. "Honey, he's just trying to help you," Spencer softly explained. "He's gonna help your head,"

"It won't hurt?" Your voice turned soft, nearly a whine due to the pain.

Spencer shook his head, "It won't hurt. I'll hold your hand the whole time, okay?" After a slight hesitation, you nodded. Spencer laced his fingers with your own, letting you lean on him for support as he rambled about random statistics to help occupy your mind.

Hotch instructed that Spencer was to take you back to the hotel for the rest of the night to rest. He drove you there, allowing you to pick the music and temperature for the car. The whole time, you held his hand.

Once you got back to your room, he helped you in. He was kind enough to help you take off your jacket and slip off your shoes. After he was done, he turned around, ready to leave.

"No," You called, pulling him back with your hand that you had in his. "I want you to stay."

Spencer was quick to turn back around, "Of course, yeah, I'll stay." He slipped off his own shoes and sat next to you on your bed.

"I shouldn't have been so harsh," You muttered. "I got myself hurt."

"Hey, no," Spencer shook his head. "That guy would've hurt someone no matter what. He was ready. You didn't get yourself hurt, okay? It was all his fault. You were doing your job, one you're damn good at."

You felt your eyes water. "I'm too mean, too quick to anger." You muttered as Spencer took his hand, gently pulling your head onto his shoulder. "I wish I wasn't."

"I don't," Spencer responded, voice soft. "I, uh, love you just the way you are."

Finally someone said it.

You didn't even respond in words, you just pulled his face to yours and pressed your lips together. Spencer took no time in reciprocating, kissing you back with a firey force. You'd both been waiting for this for so, so long.

"I love you too," You breathlessly responded as you pulled back. Spencer didn't let you have another moment as he pulled you back to his lips, chasing the gratifying feeling it gave him to finally be kissing you. "Spence, air," You gasped, pulling back.

"You can last three to five minutes without air," Spencer mumbled, pressing kisses to your lips as he spoke. "I think you'll be okay for a few more."

Even while practically making out with you, you loved that Spencer couldn't help but use his big brain to ramble off some facts. "Thought you had to go back,"

"They'll be fine without me," You giggled at Spencer's response.

After a half hour, Spencer's phone began to buzz. It was Derek. Spencer, half undressed, rolled over to look at his phone. "Who is it?" You asked.

"Morgan," Spencer said. He hit the decline button, leaning back over to you when it buzzed again. He let out a frustrated groan and picked up the phone. "What, Morgan? I'm busy."

You could hear Derek from how close you were to Spencer. "Busy? Doing what?" He paused, "Oh, doing who- Wait a minute--"

Quickly, Spencer hung up the phone. "I think he got the point." Spencer smiled as he silenced his phone. He turned back to you, caressing your cheek. "Where were we?"

Back at the station, Derek's jaw was slung open. "Guys, you aren't gonna believe this." He turned back around to the team who stared at him curiously, wondering where their genius went. "They're having sex, Reid and L/n."

"No way!" Emily laughed, "Now?"

"Hotch did send them to the hotel," JJ smiled.

With a shrug, Hotch held out his hand. "Today is day four. Pay up,"

"You!" Rossi pointed his finger at Hotch. He slowly began to pull out his wallet. "You sent them back on purpose!"

"She was hurt," Hotch held back a smile. "I would do no such thing, especially on a case."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Case's over. Right after we detained the guy again, he admitted to it. You just wanted to win this." Derek slapped a crisp twenty in Hotch's hand, along with the rest of the team. "I guess I'll let Garcia know she owes you."

Hotch smiled to himself, "I'm always right."

[misserabella]

through your clothes

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary; it was supposed to be professional in between the two of you, but a night alone in the BAU makes it difficult for the two of you to keep your hands off each other

cw; +18 content!, minors dni!!, previous kissing, making out, lots of sexual tension, two idiots pining for months, age gap (about ten years), post! jail! spencer, teasing, voyeurism(?), lots of lingering glances, sex over the clothes, dry humping, almost getting caught, switch spencer and reader!, dirty talking, hair pulling, spencer cums in his pants, non-graphic oral sex (fem! receiving), praising….

along the last couple of months in which you’ve become part of the BAU, this… tension with one of your coworkers had grown. it was a craving, a crush. he was handsome, always prancing on his tight suits, curls perfectly combed and his glasses on the bridge of his nose. he was intelligent, too intelligent, a true genius. his grand knowledge attracted you, made you shaky and hot, your eyes glued to his lips when he would rant about scientific facts. it was impossible to not like him. not want to take him from his tie and pull him down against your lips, kiss him until his glasses would fog up and his mind would go absolutely blank.

but he was your superior. you shouldn’t feel this way about him. you should make no move towards or to him. you needed to keep it professional.

it was late at night, around 3AM. you’d stayed behind to continue working in this case… it was difficult to say the least, really challenging. there were a lot of pieces that didn’t fit. you were leaving your brains on it, your eyes heavy with sleep. but your body was tense. cause he was there too.

things had been a little uncomfortable since a night out with the whole team turned in the two of you having a couple of drinks and unknowingly ended up making out in a secluded space to not get caught. you two had brushed it off as a little tipsy mistake. you two had a great age difference, about 10 years, so it was clear that it most likely was a slip. but it was clear that things had changed.

the lights on his office were lit. seemed to be a late night for him as well. you sigh, yawning.

coffee. you needed a coffee.

while on the kitchen you decided to be kind and bring him some as well. he’d most likely needed it. something you liked about him was how much importance he gave his job and how hard he worked, even after jail. his life hadn’t been easy, but he still tried hard, and that was admirable.

you add his usual amount of sugar. if you were to try the beverage you’d most likely scrunch your face at its sweetness. but he liked it that way. he was a man with a sweet tooth. maybe that’s why spencer found himself being so attracted to you.

you were sweet. sweeter than his coffee, intelligent, attractive… a whole sunshine coming down on him after a hard time of pure rains and cloudy skies.

you take a sip of your coffee as you made your way towards his office, basking in the warmth of the liquid down your throat. you knock twice, waiting for his voice to ring in your ears and give you permission. when he does, you creek the door open.

“hey…” you meet his hazel eyes framed by his glasses. he looks tired. exhausted even. and tense. “brought you some coffee, thought you might need it.” he gives himself a moment while you talk to compose and focus himself, putting on his most professional face and pretending to be completely focused on work. he looks up at you, watching you enter the room and trying to pretend he's not already affected by the way you look and the way your outfits fits your body.

you’re wearing an office black skirt that almost reaches your knees and shows the curves of your hips and thighs along with a button up shirt, which’s upper buttons are unbuttoned to give yourself a breath and more comfort. the heels you wear seemed comfortable as you’d been wearing them the whole day, and added to your stature. they made you taller, but even with them you still had to look up at him to meet his eyes, something he found truly endearing.

“oh. thanks.” he gave you a soft smile as you handed him the cup of coffee, taking a sip. “i actually needed some, i was about to fall asleep.” he joked, and you giggled.

“working on the case?” he nodded. you took some of the files on his desk, leaving your cup of coffee aside. “doctor reid…what do you think about this unsub?” you question, taking a look at his profile. “i think something's definitely not right... something doesn’t fit…”

"yes, I was thinking the exact same thing..." he says, looking up at you as he leaned back in his leather chair to get a better look at the papers spread in front of him. he's trying his best to be professional, but can't help his eyes trailing quickly over your body as well. he cleared his throat. “his behavior is confusing. on some scenes he’s methodical, doesn’t commit mistakes, whereas on others he’s frantic, irresponsible and impulsive.”

you looked down at him, at his spread legs. his black suit pants perfectly fitted to his now more muscular thighs. he seemed to had gained strength while in jail. your mind wandered to the possibility of sitting down on them, on the muscle of his thighs in between your legs. “his mind is scattered…” you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to trail back to the matter.

he caught the way your eyes darkened as they settled over his spread legs. it was almost as if he could tell what you were thinking, his brown puppy eyes reading you like an open book. he had to bite back a groan at the sight of you pressing your teeth into the full flesh of your lip. he could almost remember taste the alcohol out of them he had been craving for weeks after your kiss.

"mhm...” he nods, humming. his tone sends shivers down your spine. you seem to have more on mind. “what’s on your mind?" his fingers come up to his glasses to push them up the bridge of his nose, your attention drifting to his large slim fingers before you got back to your trail of thought.

“uhm... well. he seems to be obsessed with his victims...” your words were dying quickly, your body crumbling underneath the tension that slowly drowned the two of you. your eyes trailed down to his crotch. there were so many scenarios running through your mind…

he feels heat pour into his veins under your gaze. your voice is getting rougher, your eyes glued to him. he wants to stand up and pull you into him, but he stays fixed in his seat. he can't take his eyes off of your darkened ones as he speaks.

keep it professional, reid.

"yeah... and?"

“and... uses them. like toys, just before dumping them.” a shiver runs down your spine at your words.

haring the shiver in your voice sends one up his spine in the same way. “he plays with them. enjoys the power of submitting them under him before his game ends.”

and even though he shouldn’t, he thinks about how it would be to use you like a toy, for you to submit to him.

"mhm..." He responds in a low hum, watching as you start to tremble before him. he leans back, getting more comfortable in his seat as he stares up at you. you don’t longer think the two of you are in the right space to talk about this murderer.

“doctor reid...” you called for him, his hazel eyes catching the last on yours as you stared at his spread legs. he watches from under hooded eyes as your gaze trails over that obvious bulge that has you so entranced.

“what is it, agent y/l/n?" he inquired letting the words escape low in his chest. his heart beats faster at the sound of you breathing in that title as you look down at him.

“what are you doing?” you breathe out, your whole body tingling with the need to move closer, to touch him.

"me?" He echoes back as if he's innocently confused, his tongue running over his lips as he looks up at you with feigned innocence on his face, on his hauntingly beautiful face. "just taking a seat, getting comfortable... working..." he's trying desperately not to give away the game, the hunt and teasing, even as he sees the way your eyes get even darker and more intense.

“yeah...” you coughed, looking away from his lips as his tongue dampening them had caught your attention. you could almost feel them against yours, feel his tongue in your mouth. “then maybe i should... i should get back to my desk. there's a lot of work i need to do and...”

he's practically shaking in his chair as you speak, his breath coming in a shudder as he hears you struggle to maintain your composure, the words you speak seeming to do nothing to keep that desire out of your voice.

"no... you should stay." he says gently, cutting you off, his voice dropping to a huskier tone as he looks up at you.

“what?” you shake, your throat drying up.

"just... stay. sit." he softly reached out and touched your hip to gently pull you in front of him. he lets his hand trail down your thigh, his touch making the skin under your skirt prickle.

“w-where...? there are no more chairs...” you stutter, your nervous eyes scanning the room. he was still moving into the office, he was lucky he had gotten a chair and desk.

he looks up at you through dark eyes, a tiny smirk on his face as he sees the effect his touch is having on you. he wanted more. he wanted to drive you crazy.

“i think you know exactly where, agent.” he softly says. “come, sit..." his hand trailing around to the back of your thighs to pull you as he speaks, moving you to settle comfortably in his lap. your cheeks flush, a whimper leaving your chest as your pussy lands right against his crotch.

he shivers at the feeling of your warmth and your weight against his thighs, having to bite down on his tongue to keep from groaning out loud at the feeling of your body His hands trace over your thighs, fingers digging into the skin of your legs as he relishes the feeling of you on him.

“we shouldn't be doing this...” you tried, breathing heavy. “that kiss... it was a mistake...”

he shook his head immediately at your words, his eyes still fixed on you as he watches the way your chest rises and falls with every breath, the way your body trembles like you're already falling apart on top of him.

"no... you weren't a mistake. this feeling isn't a mistake..." he whispered breathlessly, hands slowly slipping to the edge of your skirt as he looked up at you with eyes full of nothing but complete desire and need for you.

“spencer...” you moaned, biting down on your lip, your hands on his shoulders.

hearing you moan his name sends him over the edge, any ability to hold back completely gone as he feels you start to melt on top of him. he looks up at you hungrily under his lashes before he's finally closing the distance between you, his hands snaking up your back to pull you closer as he presses his lips firmly to yours.

you gasped at the first contact, your hands hurriedly coming up to his hair, kissing him hungrily. he tastes just like you remembered, although now there’s a tang of sweetness on his lips.

he lets out a deep groan as he feels your hands in his hair, his body practically trembling under your touch as he kisses you deeply. he lets one hand slip up your spine to the back of your neck to keep you close, the other trailing down to your waist as his tongue slips forward to press hot and insistent against your bottom lip until your mouth opens for him, your tongues meeting as you tug on his hair.

“doctor…” you sighed, hips thrusting against his in need, making his mind go absolutely hazy and a deep groan coming from his mouth as he feels your desire rubbing so wantonly against him. “this is bad... oh god. we should stop...”

he's so lost in the bliss of your body against his that he can barely process your words, but even as you try to speak them his hands are pulling you tighter against him. “no... don't stop... don't..." he practically begs in a gasp, his head tilting to trail kisses and bites down the side of your neck, humming contently when your head tilts backwards to feel more of his kisses. “anyone could come in... they could catch us.” and it was true, anyone wanting to start early could come into the BAU earlier than normal and hear the two of you.

he moans with your words, the sound of your voice even more delirious with desire only serving to make his mind fuzzy. he knows you're trying to stop this, but his body feels too good, too incredible.

"let them walk in... let them hear you..." he said huskily, his teeth gently nipping at your skin as he moves to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

you can't help but whimper, feeling his cock growing harder against you as you roll your hips against him, what makes him let out a deep groan, his head tilting back and his eyes squeezing shut as his mouth falls open around the low sound.

"s-stop... you're going to kill me..." he groans the words out in a gasp, his body growing hot at the friction you're creating with your body.

“you want me to stop?” you whisper on his ear, and he bites down on his lip, shaking his head. “no... no... don't ever stop..." he says gruffly, letting his hands trail up from your waist to your sides, feeling your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. you kiss his jaw and neck. he feels like he's starting to lose his mind at the feeling of you grinding against him, his breath shuddering out in a groan as he feels his body start to shake. "oh my god..." he moans, his chest rising and falling faster and faster with the way you're moving against him. his eyes squeeze shut as he tries to keep himself together, his hands starting to clench around your sides.

“spencer...” you cry out, feeling your stomach tightening at the constant rubbing of your panties against your clit. “feels so good... you feel so good...”

he moans desperately at the sound of you saying his name like this, biting down hard on his lip as he feels you grinding against him so deliciously, your voice so wanton and full of desire for him

"yeah...? feels good?" he shudders out, his eyes flickering behind his closed lids as his head falls back even further against the chair.

you knew you shouldn't. your relationship was meant to be strictly professional. you were supposed to be just team mates, but you wanted to make him cum on his pants. you wanted to make a mess out of him, and that's why you ground your hips harder against his crotch, whining.

he chokes out a groan as he feels you working against him, his hand clenching around your thigh as he tries desperately to keep some modicum of control, fighting the shuddering waves of pleasure that start to roll through him at your motions. his breath comes in sharp through parted lips and they sit against your neck. "oh god... oh god..." he moaned helplessly, desperately trying not to give in right there in the chair.

you leaned on his ear, like the devil on his shoulder. “cum for me, doctor, i'll clean it all up later with my mouth.”

he's already on the edge, his head swimming with the words and the way you keep moving against him. he's never been so far from in control. “fuck.” he groans as he feels himself starting to reach his limit, desperately fighting his body, which only craves release.

“you close, spencer? gonna come for me in your pants?” you mutter only for him to hear against his neck, leaving wet kisses on his skin and tugging at his hair.

he chokes out another moan at the way you taunt him, his body starting to shake under your touch as he nods. "oh god... yes, please..." he whines, his moans starting to sound more and more desperate, even as he can hear the sounds of the crew finally getting in for work, moving around outside the door.

"go ahead doctor. be good for me.” his whole body starts to shudder as you speak, hearing the way you're talking to him like this undoing something inside him. his head falls back with a long, deep groan that you have to quiet with a kiss as his eyes squeezed shut, the force of his orgasm overwhelming him.

you moaned at the warmth of his load spreading through the front of his pants and in between your thighs, your hips grinding down on him to help him ride out his high.

he's breathing hard by the time the rush is over, his mind starting to come back to reality again as he feels your hips and body against his. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment before he's looking up at you with a shuddering groan, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as he shakes his head.

"you're evil... you know that?"

“you were the one who asked me to not stop, doctor.” you smirked, gasping when his strong arms picked you up and places you on top of his desk, his knees hitting the floor as he positioned himself in between your thighs. “what are you doing?!” you whisper-yell when you feel his fingers tug at the hem of your underwear, his lips leaving a soft wet kiss on your inner thigh.

“returning the favor.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Unfinished Business

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Serial Killer!Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: talk of beating/raping women and children (implicit, just mention), near drowning/death, car crash

Summary: You’re the most wanted woman in the country, and the BAU finally has you in its grasp. You hunt and kill truly evil people but it doesn’t seem to matter to the authorities if the victims are rapists, killers, and abusers. You’re doing this country a favor and you’re not finished. It doesn’t matter if you’re caught or not. You’re going to find a way to continue your work.

Square Filled: criminal au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

If the damn clock wasn’t bolted to the wall, you would have ripped it from the plaster and shattered it to pieces. You’re not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be at home snuggling with your dog who you presume is missing you. Your sister knows to take him in if she doesn’t hear from you within twenty-four hours so you have no doubt he will be taken care of.

Instead, you’re sitting handcuffed to a table in the BAU.

You’ve been on the FBI’s Top 10 Most Wanted for three years now for your notorious work in slicing up men and women who deserve it. Every single one of your victims was far from innocent, but the FBI doesn’t care if you’ve been cleaning house. All they care about is the fact you have hundreds of victims under your belt.

You’ve been killing since you were a child because your father got you into it. It started with random strangers on the highway (he was a truck driver and would pick them up). He’d get them talking and if he so much got an inkling that they were less than innocent, he’d kill them. He taught you to wear gloves, clothes that don’t fit you, shoes that were slightly too big for you, to always have a wig on, talk with an accent, and never trust anyone.

He was never caught and died almost a decade ago. Now you’re left to continue his work.

Men who rape. Men who kill for fun. Men who abuse. Women who abuse. Women who kidnap. They’re all fair game. You’re ridding the world of evil one person at a time.

The reason you’re sitting here and not at home drinking wine is that you decided it was best to work with someone to take down a small group of abusers. The group was small, maybe five or six men, but they went out and assaulted women at night and left them for dead. This other person who you shall not name knew your father and reached out to you. He wanted to work with you in bringing the group down and you trusted him enough to agree.

Your first mistake.

Your second is when you gave him the task of finding an easy way out in case something went wrong. Something did. There was another man in the house who called 911. Your “friend” got away. You got caught. When the FBI realized who they caught, you knew you wouldn’t be getting out of this alive. There have been two dozen confirmed victims of yours but you know that number is well into the three hundreds by now.

You’ve saved a bunch of men, women, and children from getting abused and hurt, and there isn’t a thing you’d change if you could do it all over again.

You’ve been sitting in this godforsaken room for nearly twenty minutes. Maybe that’s their tactic. Maybe they want you to slowly go insane so you’ll confess to more crimes. You were born at night, not last night. At best, you’ll get three consecutive life sentences. There is no way you’re going to ever see freedom… that is if you were completely alone in this. There is a reason why your father was never caught. He has friends on the inside that you can turn to, so you know you’ll be okay if you get sent to jail.

You tap the metal table with a perfectly manicured nail when the door opens and a black man walks in with a thick file in his hands. Damn, he’s not the one you were hoping would come in. The one who apprehended you was white, and he had the most beautiful brown eyes. Lean but not too skinny. Curly hair. Such beautiful features.

The man sits across from you and lays out pictures of men you’ve killed over the years. They are unsolved cases but the FBI doesn’t know that you’re responsible for them. You keep your eyes on the man as he lays out six photos of men.

“Where are they?”

“What, no introduction? No, ‘How’s it going?’ I don’t get any of that?”

“My name is Agent Morgan, and you’re going to tell me where you buried their bodies.”

“Bold of you to assume I killed them.”

Agent Morgan takes out six more photos and lays them underneath the men’s portraits. Each of the new photos is of their crime scenes. You left a lot of blood behind but none of it is yours.

“Do you know what a signature is?” You don’t answer. “You like to leave behind a name written in your victim’s blood.” In each of the photos, you can see the name you wrote on their walls or mirrors. “Femme Fatale. No one else does that but you. So, I’ll ask again, where did you bury their bodies?”

“Mmm. Ask me again. This time, add ‘please’,” you smirk.

“This is not a game, Y/N. Tell me where they are and maybe we can work out a deal.”

“I’m already seeing three consecutive life sentences for the murders you’ve already pinned on me. Unless your deal is me walking out of this building without so much as a scratch on my record, I’m not telling you shit.”

Agent Morgan nods and gathers the photos. He’s done. He knows he’s not going to get anything out of you right now. He opens the door to leave but you stop him before he can.

“When you’re ready to come back, bring in the cute one. I have a thing for brown eyes and curly hair.”

Agent Morgan all but slams the door on his way out. It’s an hour before someone comes back to you, and this time, it’s who you want.

“Ah, there he is,” you grin and sit up straighter.

“So, I’m the cute one?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Ooh, a doctor. I’m impressed. You look so young.”

Spencer opens a file and takes out pictures, different than the ones Agent Morgan showed you. They’re of your apartment, more specifically, the room you have hidden underneath your stairs. You have a basement in the house but the stairs to it are located underneath your staircase going to the second floor. The door is only accessed when you pull up the last step of the staircase. You had that installed when you bought the house so that your extracurricular activities can remain a secret.

Inside the basement are records of the men and women you’ve killed, where you’ve put their bodies, future victims on your list, and people you are suspicious of. You hate that they found that, but it doesn’t matter. You have many houses across the country and even one in Europe that all have the exact same information. If your father taught you anything, it’s to keep backups and backups of your backups.

The only difference is that every safehouse has a different list of different men and women. There are a lot of evil people on this Earth, and you’ve only worked in one country. Imagine what you’d find in Europe.

“We know you’ve killed more than two dozen. It looks like hundreds.”

“What else do you know?”

“I know that you’re smart--smarter than you’d have us believe. I know that you like to work alone. With a rap sheet like yours, you can’t trust anyone. It’s the reason you got caught. The one time you trusted another person, they let you down.”

“So, you’re not just pretty, you’re smart, too.”

“You can deny it all you want, but the facts are right here.”

“I’m not denying any of it. I killed them. All of them. You know where their bodies are. You don’t need a confession out of me which makes me think you wanted to see me.” You grin and lean forward as much as you can. “Isn’t that right, Spencer? You just wanted to talk to me.”

“I’m going to make sure you don’t see the outside of a prison for the rest of your life,” he whispers.

“I like it when you talk dirty to me,” you smirk and lean back.

“We will be transporting you to a high-facility prison before sunrise.”

“As long as you’re in the car with me.” Spencer doesn’t say anything and cleans up the photos from the table. Like with Agent Morgan, you don’t let him leave just yet. “I’m not a bad person, Dr. Reid.”

“According to your basement, you’ve killed over three hundred people.”

“Richard Sigler was raping his six-year-old daughter. Her own mother didn’t believe her when she told her about it. Benjamin Cross has beaten and raped ten women over the course of a month. He was about to add an eleventh victim when I caught up to him. Alexis Greene aided her husband in kidnapping three children. I was with my sister’s kids when she tried it with me. She never got to a fourth.” You rest your elbows on the table. “I never hurt innocent people.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything and leaves the room. It’s another two hours before you’re placed in the back of a car with Spencer behind the wheel. Luck must be on your side because you two are alone.

“What, no one else is going to join us?”

“They didn’t need to. It’s a short drive.”

“Lucky me,” you grin. “So, since I’ll probably never have a genuine conversation with anyone else, tell me about yourself.” Spencer doesn’t answer. “Let me guess, you’re a reserved know-it-all. Secret romancer? Kinky in bed?”

“Shut up,” Spencer sighs.

“Ah, so you’re kinky, huh? What are you into? Personally, I love being tied up. Choking is a big one.”

“Like I’m going to tell you what I’m into.”

“You don’t have to. I can read people pretty easily. You’re an open book.”

Spencer tries to focus on the road but it’s snowing pretty hard. He didn’t know there would be a snowstorm soon. He thought he’d be able to drop you off and return to the BAU before it hit. He turns the windshield wipers on but it doesn’t do much for the snow pouring down.

“Maybe we should pull over. Get nice and cozy in here,” you chuckle.

“And give you a chance to escape? No way.”

“I have cuffs on, Spencer. You’re the one in control. That’s one of your kinks, right? Being in control.”

“Okay, right now, I need you to shut up.”

You do only because the car is shaking. There must be black ice on the road, and Spencer is trying his best not to skid too much. Spencer doesn’t look nervous but you can tell by his labored breathing and the slight perspiration on his forehead that he’s nervous as hell. The only reason you are, too, is because there is a giant lake to the right of you, and you’ve seen too many movies where cars skid on black ice and end up in lakes.

“Spencer, maybe you should pull over,” you say seriously.

“Don’t tell me how to drive.”

The streetlights barely give Spencer enough light to see the road in front of him, and the snow piles onto the windshield faster than the wipers can remove it. Spencer jerks the wheel to the right to avoid a pothole when the car is caught on a sheet of black ice. The car spins in circles before plunging into the freezing cold waters of the lake. Spencer’s head slams into the steering wheel and is knocked out immediately. Water rapidly fills the car, too fast for your liking. You take off your seatbelt and squat onto the seat so you can slide your cuffed wrists underneath your feet. You’re very flexible for someone your age, and you’re thanking your sister for pushing you to do yoga.

You hop into the front seat and ram your elbow into the passenger window. When all you get is a bruised bone, you know you have to try something else before all of your oxygen is taken from you. After all you’ve done, you’re going to let something like this take you out. The water has reached your chest now, and you open the glove compartment for something hard to break the window.

This is a cop’s car, so they have the tools needed to break open windows. You grab the small tool and slam it into the window. It shatters immediately, and you quickly swim out of the window into the dark lake. You’re about to swim to the surface when you look back at Spencer. You can’t leave him there. He’s going to drown. He’s innocent.

You don’t hurt innocents.

You swim to the other side of the car and use the same tool on his window. You reach in and grab him only to realize that he still has his seatbelt on. The tool you have is also good for cutting seatbelts, so you slice his lap belt and pull him out of the car. It’s hard since you’re handcuffed but you have to get him out of the lake.

Your lungs burn from not having enough oxygen, and black spots start to form in your vision. No matter what, you have to get to the surface before you pass out. Just when you think you’re going to suck in a lungful of water, you break through the surface. You struggle to keep both your head and Spencer’s above water but you manage to swim to the edge of the lake. You push Spencer onto the ground and heave yourself next to him.

Shit, you’re freezing. You reach into his pockets and see if there is a key for your handcuffs. Again, luck must be on your side because there is. You unlock the cuffs and place one of them around Spencer’s wrists and the other to the very thin light pole next to him. You can’t have him following you. You look at Spencer’s face to see him paler than before with blue lips.

“Spencer!”

You lean over him, place your lips over his, and blow into his mouth. You pull back and start doing three chest compressions. You repeat the process five times before Spencer coughs up a bunch of water.

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh. “You’re alive.”

“What happened? How did you…?”

“Sorry, babe. I gotta go before they realize you’re missing.”

Spencer jerks his body only to realize he’s handcuffed to the light pole. You grin and hold up the key to the cuffs. You toss them over to him but they’re just shy of his feet. If he stretches hard enough, he’ll reach them but only after he gets his strength back.

“No, get back here right now or I’ll--”

“You’ll what? Arrest me?” You take a few steps before turning back to him. “Don’t take this personally. I have a list to complete. Oh, soft lips by the way. If things were different… As much as I like you, I really hope I don’t see you again.”

Spencer sits helplessly and watches you parade off into the night. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see you again but he���ll try like hell to make sure he does.

x

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[januaryembrs]

SWEET AND RIGHT AND MERCIFUL | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says: OMGGGG EM CONGRATS ON 3K !!! soooo deserved and i’m so so happy for you!!! please may i request tea for sunshine!reader 🥹🩷 maybe the moment when she realises just how much she likes him (perhaps she was in heavy denial beforehand)? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOUUUUU 🩷🩷🩷

description: The Sunshine rookie Spencer had heard so much about is the first one to make him laugh since he got out of prison.

length: 4.1k

warnings: Lucky Strikes episode, talks of humans eating humans, cm gore, blood, violence etc. UnSub gets creepy with reader. sex jokes, spitting water.

author's note: dedicated to @avis-writeshq because she is my GIRL when it comes to Spencer Reid x Sunshine brain rot, and also because she requested a Drabble for them but I couldn't stop writing and here we are with a full ficlet.

It had been three weeks, three painfully long weeks since Spencer Reid had returned to the BAU, nearly ten years since she’d seen him lecturing at Pennsylvania. He looked different, but then Emily had said quite literally on her second day that their endgame was getting him out of prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and it seemed only natural that being a fed in a foreign jail would knock someone around. 

She’d been too nervous to speak to him on their first day working together, had stuck to Luke’s side like glue because he was closest in age to her and he didn’t seem to mind the way she could speak a hundred miles per hour. They had only really had any contact when she was chatting with Garcia in the kitchenette at lunch, when she was talking to the tech whizz about the crochet set she’d bought even though she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the way everything bobbed and weaved and bobbed again, and how the woman on youtube seemed to make the tiny bumblebee seem so achievable while hers looked like a yellow turd. 

He’d come up behind the two of them, his footsteps deadly silent despite the fact he had sneakers on, and she wouldn’t have even known he was there had Penelope not lit up with glee at seeing Reid poking around their office again. 

“Coffee, honey?” Penelope asked, looking over the girl’s shoulder, and it was only when he murmured a ‘mhm’ that the rookie noticed he’d crept up behind her, leaning over to grab his mug from the cupboard, and she hopped to the side immediately. 

“S-sorry, just shove me out the way next time, my mom says I have zero spacial awareness.” She said with a nervous laugh, and he didn’t seem to care as he granted her a small glance, pushing the button on the coffee machine and clunking his mug beneath the tap. 

“Have you met our newbie, Spence?” Penelope asked, friendly as ever even though the women caught the way his jaw seemed to feather with clenched muscle, like he was holding himself back from snapping, and his eyes were tired as he looked over at Garcia, barely flicking his gaze to the new face despite her prompt, “This is Y/N, she’s joined us from cold cases,” 

“Hi,” The woman chirped with a quick wave, despite the fact he was stood only a foot away from her, “It’s nice to meet you after everyone’s spoken so highly about you, Penny said you like invented the term genius,”

Spencer pursed his lips, trying not to make a backhanded comment about how dumb that sounded because of course he didn’t invent it, of course it was coined in the mid seventeenth century from the latin gignere to mean ‘exceptional natural ability’, and the last time he checked he wasn’t even born then. But he stopped himself, because she was just being nice, and it wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t been sleeping or that he couldn’t eat dinner without waiting to hear a buzzer go off to let him know when it was meal time, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that she was just a few decibels too loud with her cheerful tone and smile that he could hear in every syllable. 

So he just gave her an awkward smile, and an acknowledging nod, the whir of effort from the coffee machine slowing down as his drink finished pouring, and he grabbed his mug, not even caring that the ceramic scolded his fingertips because he’d felt so much worse before and gotten through it. 

“I’ll catch up with you later,” He said coldly, not returning the sentiment, and he’d turned before he could see the way her smile dropped, her brows creasing in worry as she watched him head back towards his desk.

“Did I say something wrong?” She asked with a small voice, and Penelope wrapped an arm around her shoulder giving her a kind squeeze and a sad smile. 

“It’s not you, sweetie, he’s just-” Garcia swallowed, her own pout growing over her red painted lips, “He’s not like the Reid we used to know, he’s struggling,” 

And so she nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek with a frown. It felt silly to have her feelings hurt, except she’d been thinking about the day two agents from the BAU came to give her sociology class a talk on geographical and societal factors compelling crime, how she’d headed straight to her tutor that evening to swap her major to criminology. Because she’d hung on every word Agent Hotchner and Agent Reid had said, which definitely had nothing to do with the fact the younger of the two was so dreamy in his glasses and tweed jacket. 

She’d been excited to meet him again after nearly ten years, maybe even thank him for changing the trajectory of her entire life. He was still handsome, and despite the fact she’d grown up since then, had only thought about him as that hot guy who gave a lecture in her class that one time, she still had felt that silly fluttering feeling in her chest the second she saw him talking with Emily in her office the morning he got back. 

And he’d look at her like she was a girl scout selling cookies; a passing face, a summer temp, no one worth getting to know.

She pretended like she wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed, he’d been to prison for god sake. The guy had bigger problems than a little nobody girl from another department.

Things weren’t much better the day they got the case.

“You might want to cover your eyes for this bit, my little sugar plum,” Penelope said, looking at the rookie with soft eyes, and Emily smiled at her gently, knowing the girl had a bit of an innocent streak, not completely unlike Penny when she’d started the job. 

“Why? I’m sure it’s nothing-” She cut herself off when Penelope clicked onto the next page, and the image of a woman who could only be described as utterly butchered flicked onto the screen in full size, “Oh,” 

“Oh, indeed, rookie,” Rossi said with a wince, looking at the mulch of blood and muscle where her legs had been removed, and her fingers severed clean off as if with a carving knife. 

Luke looked up at the girl, where she’d gone a little peaky, and he patted her back gently, sliding his bottle of water over to her without a word. 

“All the telltale signs are here,” JJ said on a sighed breath, images of the rest of the crime scene flicking up on the screen.

“Pentagram, legs and fingers gone,” Rossi agreed, Luke and Matt looking between the team with a questioning glance, as she downed a sip of the water. 

“There’s even one neat aspect right here,” Emily said, the tip of her finger pointing to one of the pictures of the floor outside the bathroom stall where the body was found, “Her earrings and jewellery are laid out equidistant on the floor,”

“Sure as hell looks like him,” Rossi said, and she cleared her throat, looking to the older man on her left. 

“Like who?” She asked, her eyes snapping to Spencer who opened his mouth to speak, which seemed to be the only time he ever did bother making conversation; when there was a body on their hands.

“Floyd Feylnn Ferrell,” He said, as if the original case had only been wrapped up last week, but then with his memory she wasn’t exactly surprised, “A psychotic cannibal who’d been killing under the radar for years,”

“He killed ten prostitutes and then moved up to low risk victims,” Prentiss added, the rookie’s eyes wide. It wasn’t anything she’d never heard of, but it never made it easier knowing something even worse was coming after the murders. 

“He kept slipping through the cracks and avoiding justice so people referred to him as ‘Lucky’” JJ said, her eyes darting over the crime scene photos that seemed to take her back ten years to when they’d seen almost an identical set of photos, like Hotch was about to call ‘Wheels up in twenty’ any minute now.

Rossi sighed, looking at the younger girl who watched him wide eyed, “Have you eaten today, rookie?”

She shook her head dumbly, “Why?”

“Because the worst of it was he owned a barbeque joint,” Her face dropped even more, if that was even possible, “And he fed one of the victims to the search party,”

Her hand flew to her mouth, blinking at the seasoned agent in terror, because that was something she hadn’t ever thought would enter someone’s mind until she heard it. As simple as it sounded, for someone who had seen cases going back twenty, thirty years, some particularly heinous in nature, there were new lengths she didn’t realise a human could ever go to, let alone would.

Penelope stopped, shutting her laptop lid and glancing at JJ in a plea for help, as the thought of what had happened after the Ferrell case rushed to the front of her mind, when the guy she’d thought wanted to take her out on a date shot her. 

“I have a computer…” The blonde trailed off, heading for the door to the office room with a dazed look in her eyes, and the rookie watched her leave, her neck and palms clammy as she thought about what Rossi had just said. 

“I think I have a computer too-” She rushed, and she bolted from her seat before she could think of anything else, dashing after the technical analyst because she feared she was going to throw up if she didn’t get a breath of fresh air. 

Spencer watched her hair swish as she scurried out the room, and he wondered how long she would last if she couldn’t stomach just a few photos. He had struggled with the gore at first, sure, but he’d never ran. Maybe he was being cruel, but he couldn’t say that a girl like her exactly fit the part of an FBI agent, she seemed… pure, like driven snow, and if anything he’d hate for the bloodied parts of their job to stain a girl so squeaky clean.

Emily nudged his shoulder, nodding towards her retreating figure when he looked up at her questioningly, “You keep an eye on her in this case. She’s still learning,” 

And Spencer grit his teeth, because he hated the idea of babysitting when he had a dozen of his own problems, but he nodded indignantly. 

He just hoped she didn’t make things too hard for him. 

–

The door swung open behind Ferrell, the UnSub’s sister, the midday Florida heat boring down on her back, Spencer bristling at her right as Luke pocketed his badge. 

And then there he was. The guy from the photo, his thick, wiry glasses exact matches to the ones he’d been wearing the day he got caught, though she supposed a mental facility didn’t exactly have funds for replacements. 

“It’s no problem, Lori, I’ll speak with them,” His voice was a strong southern twang, and almost chillingly calm. His sister looked over her shoulder at him, the woman fretful as she glanced between the four agents, ten years of troubles on her shoulders. She sighed, running a hand over her neck nervously and headed back inside to be with her son, leaving them alone with their suspect on the doorstep, “You’ll have to wait, I’m on my way to church. It’s right around the corner so I’m within the thousand permitted yards from the monitoring station,”

He quickly glanced at where Matt and Luke stood behind her, the former with his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed up the thin, twiggly guy who looked like the type to live in his mother’s basement until he died, not the type to cannibalise and murder. 

His eyes darted over to where Reid towered over him, familiarity flicking in his face as he looked at the agent, and he smiled slowly, like something out of a horror, the uncanny valley of a face so normal when she knew he was so sick somewhat terrifying to her. He fed one of the victims to the search party. She heard it rattling around her skull as she saw the whites of his teeth, and she imagined him ripping into her then and there, her hands shaking.  

“Hey, I remember you. Where’s your friend, Agent Morgan?” Floyd said, and she felt Spencer tense up beside her, which she guessed meant it was a sore subject as she jumped into the conversation, her lips moving before she could think better of it. She’d always had a habit of talking too much when she was nervous, or to fill gaps, or when she could tell someone was uncomfortable, she’d always been told it was one of her more irksome traits. 

“You wouldn’t mind if we took a look around, would you? Just while you’re gone?” She asked politely yet, for once, she regretted ever opening her mouth the second he turned his attention on her.

She felt something cold and dreadful run down her spine as he looked straight at her, his sepia eyes trailing down over her neck, running over her body and down to her hands that fidgeted at her sides.

They waited on baited breath, her stomach flipping with sickness as that manic smile drew even wider, trained solely on her, a thought privy only to himself somewhat amusing to him. She felt herself lean away without even meaning to, incidentally feeling Spencer’s arm bump into hers as she did, and the three men seemed to tense up as they watched Ferrell smell the air, savouring every second of it, his eyes blown wide with something unreadable. Lustful yet starved, like he was on a four day fast standing next to an open roast. 

“You’re awful pretty for an agent,” Floyd said, that drawling accent of his turning her stomach, and his eyes trailed down over her calves, and she cursed herself for wearing a midi skirt. But she hated jeans on her thighs, hated the way Florida air clung humidly to her skin when she didn’t let it breathe, but she thought she might just hate the way his mouth filled with saliva more, “Do you like running, agent?”

“Sometimes,” She whispered, shrinking in on herself even more as he took a step out of the home. 

And Spencer felt his chest drop at the sound of it. She sounded petrified. But then, he would be too if someone his size looked at him like he was a five-course banquet. And he regretted ever thinking of her as babysitting, as defective, because she was clearly trying her best, and this was where it had gotten her. Right on the UnSub’s menu.

“I bet you do a lot of running, chasing after bad guys, huh?” Floyd pushed, leering towards her with another smell of her perfume, and she could have sworn his smile only widened into something cheshire cat-esque. She nodded with a worried gulp, her breath picking up when his hand began moving up to where a rogue stray hair fell out of her bun, running over her collar bone, her heart beating so wild and heavy beneath it. 

And it was enough for Spencer to act, because within the blink of an eye, he’d side stepped in front of the rookie who seemed frozen in her spot, and Floyd’s arm was shoved away where it hit Spencer’s bicep. Ferrell was forced to stop looking over her clammy skin with heavy swallows like he was imagining just how she would cut and marinate, and instead was confronted with a frown that could send any man scarpering, Spencer’s lips pressed into something furious, his shoulders seeming only more broad than they usually did when he purposely blocked Ferrell’s view from her. 

“You’d better get going, Floyd,” Spencer said, his voice a deadly sort of calm, and his arm stuck out behind him to keep her where she was as he spoke, “You’re going to be late for church,” 

And Floyd listened, despite his smarmy smile as he dared a look at her when he passed by, despite the fact his eyes trailed back down to her jugular like he was ready to sever it there and then to string her up and cure. 

Spencer’s hand fished around his pocket, glaring at the back of Floyd’s head as he strolled down the street, tossing the keys to Alvez, “Take her back to the car, don’t let her out of your sight,” 

And the two of them listened while he and Matt swept the house, because anyone would be insane not to when Spencer looked so angry he could have put a hole through Ferrell’s head without blinking an eye.

–

“Eating people, who eats people, what on earth is that all about,” She muttered, the four of them in the SUV heading back to the station. She sat at the front with Spencer where he drove because Luke and Matt were gentlemen and had offered her the extra leg room, and Spencer had zero qualms because he was under strict instruction to keep an eye on her. 

She did that alot, he realised. Muttered when she was thinking about something. Where he went deadly silent when troubled, too focused on sorting through the mental files that seemed to be so resistant to organise these days, she was his entire opposite, always talking or humming a tune under her breath or playing an invisible set of piano notes on her knee, something to always keep the space filled. 

He’d hated it the first few days, the sound like a blaring alarm coming from over by her desk, cutting through his limited attention span, grating on his nerves and making him have to bite his tongue to stop himself from yelling at her to shut the fuck up. But then, it wasn’t exactly personal to her, even the sound of the coffee machine had been enough to pull at his hair in frustration. At twelve years old, it spluttered and whirred and kicked back at every drink it made, every second of it winding Spencer’s patience up like a jack in the box.

But he found himself listening in on her mumbles, glancing over at how her frown screwed up her doe eyes, her lip pulling between her teeth whenever there was a tiny pause in between her words, before she started again. He’d quickly realised it was the easiest cheat in the book to know when something was bothering her, that she was so much of an open book, not at all cold and guarded like him or so many other profilers he knew, that he wouldn’t need to bother deducing her like she was his next UnSub to know what was wrong. She would just tell him as it was, wear everything vulnerable on her face. 

“Something the matter?” He pressed, Luke also keeping a close watch on her from the back seat as she shook her head to herself, and her head snapped over to the driver’s side, her expression entirely caught even though she’d not exactly been subtle about her turmoil.

“M-me? “ She pointed to herself, and Spencer nodded, trying not to smile because sometimes she could be clueless, not the dumb kind but something sweet, naive, and he found himself somewhat jealous that she didn’t need to be the smartest person in the room to be worth something, she could just be herself, “Yeah, I guess I just,” She huffed, running her hands over her skirt, “I don’t get why anyone would want to eat someone else, it just-” She shivered, not in a theatrical or fake way but like a ghost had walked over her grave just thinking about Floyd smelling at her. 

“Some cultures used to cannibalise other members of their society as funerary practices as early as twenty-four thousand years ago,” Spencer said, and she stopped fidgeting to listen to him, “There’s evidence that the Magdelanians in North Europe used to turn their dead’s skulls into cups they would then drink out of,”

“That I can understand, those guys were probably starving and it’s not like they can just chow down on a damn sabertooth as an easy lunch or something,” She said, and he bit his lip from stopping her to explain that the two of them were about four thousand years apart from one another, “But like, when there’s a burger king or taco bell on every corner, why are you eating women. Who eats women for breakfast lunch and dinner, like raise your hands which one of you would ever eat a woman,” 

Luke sniggered, and Matt smirked at the innuendo of it, the double meaning of her words flying entirely over her head.

“I dunno, Alvez, do you like eating women?” Simmons asked, a smug grin in his words as the boys cackled childishly, and Spencer rolled his eyes with amusement. 

“Pretty partial to it actually,” Luke chimed in, and she whirled in her seat to look behind her of scepticism, “How about you, Reid?”

“You guys are so weird,” She murmured, and Spencer took a quick glance off the road to see her looking entirely baffled, her feathers ruffled at the fact she was left out of the joke. 

“They’re talking about oral sex,” He explained, because he remembered when that had been him for the longest time, and how it had made him feel like the butt of every punchline to not understand why everyone would smile at him knowingly, yet he found himself doing the exact same to her, his lips twitching at their corners.

Spencer watched her scoff, looking back at the two grown children in the back, “I take it back, you guys aren’t weird, your gross. Why can’t you be mature like Spencer?” She huffed, sitting back in her seat and fixing her skirt, “See if you were grownups like Agent Reid and I, you’d know the term isn’t eating a woman, it’s called focalratio,” 

Matt pulled a face of confusion, flicking his eyes to her, “Isn’t that to do with a camera lens?” 

“Do you mean fellatio?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest not to smirk because he didn’t want to make her feel stupid, except she just waved a hand at him.

“That’s what I said. I see why they call you Doctor Read and not Doctor Listen,” She giggled at her own words, watching the trees go by her passenger window, almost entirely oblivious to the way Spencer’s face cracked into a grin, something easy and charmed in his chest. 

And for a moment, he saw exactly what Penelope had been talking about when she wouldn’t stop talking about how likeable she was and how it was harder to hate her than it was to love her. 

Luke took a sip of his water, the bottle nearing the end as the Florida sun warmed it up, and he figured he might as well finish it before it became stagnant and undrinkable. 

“Actually the term fellatio describes only male genitalia, the female equivalent would be cunnilingus-” Spencer explained, and he knew she was listening because he felt her eyes on the side of his face as he spoke, except he was cut off by the sound of her screaming so loud he nearly slammed on the breaks then and there. 

“LUKE!” She yelled, and when Spencer looked, she had water dripping down the back of her hair, soaking her shirt to her skin, her black bra straps suddenly clear as day as they pressed against her dove white top. Alvez looked mortified, and he found himself apologising between coughs, water dribbling down his chin where he’d been so shocked to hear that word coming from Spencer’s mouth that he’d completely forgone swallowing and simply spat the whole thing out right through the gap between the headrest and the seat. 

And Spencer laughed; it was quiet and foreign and nothing on the roaring cacophony coming from Matt in the back, as her and Luke descended into a squabble, her proclaiming him as a disgusting alpaca man as she tried to dry herself off with his jacket. But she caught it, the small chuckle coming from her left, and she looked at him, the sodden shirt almost forgotten when she saw him laugh. 

She thought then that she wanted to make him laugh like that a million more times. And she knew she had it bad for Spencer Reid all over again.

[snarkylinda]

Isn't there a statistic about how being raised fatherless raises the possibility of a child falling onto drugs and/or jail?

I am trying really hard to not do the obvious Spencer Reid joke here guys help.

[megwritesriddles]

Out of Town ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 18 - First Time. Spencer is sent to a small town police station to get some information, but doesn't expect to meet such a beautiful officer whom he connects with so easily.

Tags: Loss of virginity, Virgin!Reader, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Handjob, First meetings, Getting together, Fluff, Awkwardness, Factual inaccuracies, Autistic!Spencer, SoftDom!Spencer (ish), Briefly referenced violence, Set around season 2-3.

Word count: 5.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: It's FINALLY here!! Virgin!Reader because of this poll!! I struggled with this one so much and I don't know why, it took forever to write and it's so long and I'm not even sure I like it that much, I will come back for Spencer after kinktober and redeem myself!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Spencer didn’t believe in fate, but he believed that something close to it had brought him to that small-town police station. At first, he had complained vehemently about being sent alone to the next county over while on a case. The team were investigating an UnSub targeting very small towns, and communication between these tiny police departments was virtually non-existent. It was Spencer’s job to see if any missing persons cases in nearby counties would match the description of a recently discovered unidentifiable Jane Doe. He tried to argue, saying it was unwise to send him, the worst socialiser of the bunch, to try and negotiate information from the usually very territorial small-town cops. Unwillingness to cooperate was still rife in the culture and each department wanted to be the ones to solve the case, so information sharing was limited. However, his complaints fell on deaf ears and he was sent away, he would have never guessed how happy this would end up making him.

The first few county police departments he pops by offer nothing, no missing person cases (at least matching the necessary descriptions or timeline) and grizzled FBI-wary old cops who glared at him and commented on his ‘funny’ behaviour. Spencer’s confidence was a little shot as the day progressed. He sets off for the final department he’d be visiting that day, talking on the carphone with Morgan to find out how things were going with the rest of the investigation. He pulls up outside of a small rustic building, the smallest he’d seen all day, his only visual confirmation that he was in the right place being the rickety old sign off of which various letters were dangling. He hadn’t realised places like this even still existed, or that information-sharing programs weren’t implemented nationwide. He would have to read into that more when he got the time. The light outside his car is a deep blue as the sun prepares to set, he gets out and locks up before stepping inside. The place is absolutely tiny, with a small jail cell in the corner of the room like in a cartoon and a small desk behind which were two filing cabinets, presumably holding all the files that this place had. This whole day had been one big culture shock. The biggest surprise, however, is you, behind the desk smiling warmly. You’re young and beautiful and not immediately distrusting when he presents his FBI badge to you. All day he’s been dealing with hardened older men, so you’re a much-appreciated surprise.

“Dr Spencer Reid, FBI,” he introduces himself with an awkward tight-lipped smile. You give him your name too, referring to yourself as an officer.

“It’s not every day we get an FBI agent visiting,” you chuckle. “In fact, I would bet it has never happened before,” He smiles slightly at your observation, not doubting it, remembering seeing the population sign when driving into town. Population: 342. If an FBI agent had been here before, he would have been shocked. Perhaps because of all this, you immediately guess what he’s here for, turning to grab a file from the filing cabinet. The drawer is barely full and you find what you’re looking for instantly. Must be nice, he thinks, thinking about the cabinets back at the bullpen. You hand him a missing persons file, a young woman, missing a month ago. “It’s only our fifth missing persons case since 1900, caused an awful stir in our town, I figure it’s what you’re here for, nothing much else going on,”

“Yeah, this looks exactly like what I’m here for, thank you,” he smiles, flipping through the file. The timeline fits with the estimated time of death, and she matches the height of the body found. “May I use your copier?” he asks. You chuckle.

“Good luck,” you point him to a very old-looking machine. He cringes a little but supposes he has little other choice. He fiddles around with the machine, encountering various unexplainable errors. You come up behind him and give the machine a firm slap and it whirs to life again.

“Thanks,” he smiles awkwardly. You just nod.

“No problem,” he sets the machine to print a few copies and then sits down on a nearby chair while the ancient machine starts working. “You’ll be here a while, want a coffee?” you offer sweetly. He huffs a small laugh, fiddling with the strap of his satchel.

“Yeah… uh… lots of sugar…” he says awkwardly.

“How much is a lot?” you ask, approaching the old coffee machine. Everything in this place is old, he supposes not much budget must be extended out here to such a small uneventful place.

“Just when you think you’ve added way too much, add one more,” he mumbles, pleasantly surprised when you laugh, he laughs too. He takes in his surroundings as you make the coffee. “Do you work here alone?” he enquires.

“I have one co-worker, he does most of the patrols and stuff,” you explain while scooping spoonfuls of sugar into his cup. “It’s slightly more exciting than working here, but I suppose I get some excitement tonight, FBI agent visiting,” you smile at him over your shoulder. You’re really beautiful, Spencer thinks as he nods along to what you say, so beautiful it doesn’t quite seem possible, and he’s constantly surrounded by beautiful people. Or so he’s told anyway, most of his colleagues are very conventionally attractive, but he is more floored by you than he has ever been by one of them. He takes the coffee as you hand it to him and tastes it, pleasantly surprised by the amount of sugar. The whir of the copier continues as you sit down beside him, smiling sweetly. “You seem young for an agent,” you comment, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You seem young for an officer in a place like this,” he counters. “I’ve been visiting stations all day and only been dealing with old guys,” he jokes, once again happy when you laugh. 

“Yeah, I suppose I am, but this is my hometown, a position here opened up right after I finished college and I applied,” you shrug. “I doubt anyone else applied, so they had to take me, but I was by far the most qualified person to have ever applied here, do you know I’m the first member of this department to have ever gone to college?” you tell him with surprising eagerness. He finds it very endearing.

“I’m the first in my department with three Ph.D.s,” he smiles awkwardly. 

“Three? Wow! That’s amazing! How old are you exactly?” you tilt your head at him. He goes on to explain his story to you, his early graduations, his IQ, all of it. You seem much more interested than most people and he appreciates it greatly. The two of you talk back and forth while the copy machine slowly does its work and he finds himself liking you a lot. Of course, he had immediately noticed your looks, but he had tried not to think about it, wanting to be professional, yet after talking to you for a while, he found he had a great deal in common with you. Or, at least, he found your interests interesting, as you did his. So, by the time the copying is done and he’s gathering up the papers, he makes a decision. 

He’s never been the most confident with women, far from it in fact, but lately, he’s been feeling a little more secure. His brief stint with Lila Archer, while a little regrettable with hindsight, had left him feeling better about himself and his romantic prospects. He’d done a little exploring after realising that he and Lila really had nothing in common to base a relationship on, and was now no longer so inexperienced with women, though he still had a lot of trouble with finding someone he was compatible with for more than just something physical. He had difficulties that made a relationship with him hard, and while he had never intended for any one-night stands, most girls had backed out after spending a little longer with him. They’d been polite about it, explaining that they didn’t have the faculties to support him through struggles with his career, with his autism, with his mother and he understood, but it still hurt. He was determined not to let it put him off though, not wanting to squander his newfound confidence. He liked you. He’d mentioned his autism to you in passing when discussing being bullied as a child (why had he even told you about that? It seemed like he’d just let everything out), and you had said he hadn’t deserved that. It didn’t mean you would be able to handle him in a relationship, but it was one step closer to possible acceptance. You’d been smiling and laughing with him all evening, giving him these sweet looks and he was no expert in this field, but it seemed like you liked him. He couldn’t not do something about this attraction, he would never forgive himself if he’d had a chance and not taken it.

He leaves his name and number along with the words ‘I would love to see you again’, written neatly on a piece of paper from his notepad, on your desk, right by your bag where he hopes you will see it. He’s fidgety when he says goodbye to you, anxious that this may be the last time he ever sees you. He hopes not. He even hugs you goodbye, which he would usually hate, but for once it feels nice and comforting. You smell perfect, like warm spices, and he holds you way too tight for a friendly goodbye hug, but you say nothing about it. He prays that you will find his number and contact him, even if just to shoot him down so he doesn’t have to wonder forever. He drives back to the hotel that the team is staying in with his head spinning. He really, really liked you, and he wasn’t sure how these feelings had grown so strong so quickly, he wasn’t usually like this.

That night, while reading in his hotel bed, his phone rings. He doesn’t recognise the number, and though his line of work has taught him to be wary of unknown callers, the chance that it’s you overrides this worry and he picks up quickly. It is you. He can’t help but grin with delight as he hears your sweet voice.

“Spencer?” you question softly.

“Hey,” he laughs excitedly. “You called,” you laugh too, surprised by how overjoyed he sounds.

“Yeah, I figured I should since it could be a while until you go through your satchel,”

“My satchel?” he chuckles in confusion, leaning over the edge of the bed to root through his bag. There, on a pink sticky note, is your number and a cute little smiley face. You gave him your number too, you wanted to stay in touch too. He’s over the moon right now. He traces his fingertips over the little smiley face. “You’re too cute,” he mumbles. You blush on the other end and laugh him off. “How was your… uh… drive home?” he asks. He’s never been good at starting conversations, usually best at taking them over and finishing them, but for once, he wants to know the mundane things about someone, as well as the deep and intellectual, he wants to hear you talk. He’s glad when you start to talk about your day, going on a few tangents about this and that. He does the same, feeling so incomparably comfortable with you like he’s known you forever, like he can just talk without worrying about coming off weird or annoying. He can only hope the feeling isn’t only in his head and he isn’t actually annoying you. He doesn’t seem to be, as the conversation occasionally turns rather flirty, and he finds it much easier to flirt with you than anyone else he’s ever tried it with. The way you flirt, sweet and coy, drives him crazy. You talk until way too late at night, given the time Spencer has to wake up for work, but he can barely bring himself to hang up on you, even when the both of you are yawning incessantly. He’s never felt this way about anyone. People always say, when you know, you know, and he’s always thought that was ridiculous but now… he knows. 

“Look, I’m supposed to be at the station in four hours, I really need to get to sleep,” you yawn. Spencer sighs, disappointed but understanding.

“Okay, but… maybe we could see each other again while I’m still in the area? You could come to my hotel tomorr– I mean tonight I guess,” he chuckles tiredly. “Drinks on me, or no drinks… that’s good too,” the question is followed by complete silence, and initially, Spencer is sure you must have fallen asleep, but then he hears you shuffling and realises you must be awake. He frowns. Why aren’t you answering him? You’d spent hours on the phone with him just now, you must like him at least a little bit, right? Could he have read this that disastrously wrong? If you didn’t want to, you could have lied and said you were busy. What gives? He repeats your name into the receiver, prompting softly. 

“I’m a virgin, Spencer,” you reply quietly, biting your lip. You feel embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting this, especially so early, but you figure there would be certain expectations if you came to his hotel, ones you couldn’t really fulfil, or at least not in the way he probably wanted.

“What?” Spencer squeaks, confused by your words for a multitude of reasons and unsure why you’re saying them now. You worry you’ve scared him off now.

“I grew up in a really small town, there’s like two guys close to my age in the whole place… and in college… I was a huge nerd, just focused on my studies… and now I’m back in that town… it just… hasn’t happened for me,” you sigh, fiddling with the hem of your pyjama shirt. There’s another pause, Spencer swallowing audibly.

“That’s totally cool! Really! I didn’t mean to imply that we’d be... uh… I mean… not that I don’t want to, I’d hardly be opposed to us… um… but I’m not going to– I was a virgin until last year too!” he stumbles nervously over his words, cursing himself for his awkwardness. He rubs a hand over his forehead and takes a deep breath. “I didn’t invite you here for that, we can do whatever you like, at whatever pace you like, don’t feel pressured into anything,”

“I just made this completely awkward, didn’t I?” you laugh self-deprecatingly. He smiles slightly.

“No, no, please I… I know what guys are like, you weren’t unreasonable to assume my intentions but… I just want to see you again, whatever we do,” he assures softly, relieved he hasn’t messed this up. 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll come visit you after my shift is over, text me the address,”

The two of you finally hang up after a nervous goodbye, and Spencer immediately sends you the address of the hotel before he can forget about it, not that he could if he tried, even without the eidetic memory. He’s tired enough that he falls straight asleep afterwards, using what little sleep he has to dream of you.

The workday goes by in a trance. The Jane Doe is identified as the missing girl from your town. Despite this, the case is no closer to getting solved. Selfishly, he is glad of this, as it means he’s likely to stay near you a little longer. He brushes away that thought, immediately ashamed of himself. He tries his best to push you from his mind to focus on his work, but you invade it in the quiet moments. He’s never been so excited to spend time with someone in his life. He thinks occasionally about your confession. A virgin. He’s partly shocked, you’re so beautiful, sweet and intelligent, however, your explanation had made sense. He understood the focus on your studies, while most people took college as an opportunity to have fun, you’d dedicated yourself entirely to your academia. He imagined though, that if you had decided to experiment, you would have had no trouble finding willing partners. By the end of the day, he is in such a rush to get back to the hotel that it rouses the team's suspicions. They don’t know about you though, so they can’t guess the truth. They figure he’s just aching for his own space like he sometimes is after stressful workdays, needing a dark quiet room to regulate himself in. He disappears into his room without any goodbyes, having received a text from you that you’re on your way. He spritzes himself with some fresh cologne, brushing his hair and making sure he’s dressed nicely, but not too formally, so he looks approachable.

He sprints down to the lobby to meet you, relieved none of his team is hanging around the bar to see the two of you. He does not want you to meet Morgan so early on. He embraces you, a little awkwardly, relishing that sweet but spicy scent that you have around you. You’ve taken the time to change out of your police uniform and into more casual, but still very enchanting clothes. He wishes he’d have had time to change too. You look absolutely gorgeous, but he’s not sure if he should tell you as such yet.

“A drink? On me, alcoholic, non-alcoholic, whatever you prefer! I’m personally not a drinker, but I don’t mind if you do,” he rambles, smiling excitedly down at you. You follow him to the bar, ordering a mocktail from the bartender. Spencer orders himself the same one, paying for them both. The two of you are quiet as you wait, both nervous. Spencer smiles dopily as you let him keep a hand on your back, the warm pressure calming you in some way. The bartender brings you your drinks and you take yours with a soft thank you, then the two of you go silent again.

“Are we going to your room?” you ask quietly. Spencer blushes a little at the thought but reminds himself that he’s not expecting anything out of this other than your presence. He nods, gently guiding you by the hand on your back to the elevators. The two of you are quiet in the elevator as it goes up, save for the occasional sip. You reach his floor and then the door to his room. He presents his keycard and the door swings open, revealing a modest but clean hotel room. You take a seat on the edge of his bed, and he takes a seat on the armchair nearby. You’re both quiet again. “We’re both nervous, aren’t we?” you chuckle. He laughs too, nodding, finding it sweet that you’re nervous too, being used to always being the nervous one. “Come on, we weren’t this quiet last night, tell me more about Vegas,” you prompt, hoping to rid yourself of this oppressive silence that makes your mind wander over his tall frame, his sweet eyes and the way his hand had felt on your back. 

He starts slowly, not initially sure what to tell you about, but gradually talks more comfortably as you ask questions. After a little while, the two of you fall into easy conversation once more. He finds you intelligent and well-rounded, even if you’re not as well-studied as he is, you effortlessly keep up with his discussion. You explain that you have lots of time to read in the police station as barely anything ever happens that demands your attention. He finds your willingness to learn on a variety of different topics incredibly attractive and whenever you’re able to tell him a fact that he doesn’t know, he just wants you all the more. Once he’s finished his drink (a fruity sweet drink he quite liked), he comes to sit beside you. He doesn’t necessarily mean anything by it but quickly realises that you think he does. You go pink and start to stutter, looking down at the ground. He swallows. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t– I just wanted to–” 

“Are we going to have sex?” you cut him off, looking up at him nervously. He feels trapped, not knowing what the right answer to this is. 

“We… don’t have to,” he replies, not wanting to imply disinterest but also not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Would you? I mean… it’s not off-putting that I’m a virgin at my age?” you ask, looking down again and swinging your feet slightly. 

“No! No! Trust me, it’s completely fine, I was a virgin until last year, I completely get it,” he assures, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Really? The handsome FBI man, a virgin?” you tease, nudging him. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

“No need to flatter me… and no matter what I look like, my… uh…” he hesitates to bring it up again in case you missed it the first time and it’ll scare you off. “My autism makes stuff like that hard, very hard, so… I can hardly judge you,” he watches your face for a reaction, but you just nod in understanding. He’s so relieved that he could kiss you. He looks at you for a moment and then decides to do just that. He leans in slowly, so you have time to push him away if the thought of kissing him disgusts you, and presses his lips to yours. He kisses you softly for a moment, sliding his hand around your waist and tugging you a little closer. Your hands settle onto his shoulders, your head tilting to press a little closer to him. He smiles into the kiss and you smile too.

He keeps it gentle and slow, carefully manoeuvring you sideways onto his lap so he doesn’t have to lean his neck down so much to kiss you. He rests his hand just above your knee, keeping you held in place, his other hand on your back. Your hands on his shoulders slide softly around his neck, now embracing him to keep him close and comfortable. His thumb rubs back and forth on your back, his hand splayed out, keeping you pressed close. He likes this, you’re gentle, you smell good and the weight of you is comforting in his lap. He shuffles back clumsily, holding you close and upright until his back is against the headboard. He continues to kiss you, his hand smoothing up and down the outside of your thigh. You pull back and he frowns, though his hands don’t stop their gentle caresses. 

“Please, be gentle with me,” you whisper shyly, your pupils wide in the dim light.

“Of course I will be,” he whispers, his hand on your thigh coming up to caress your cheek tenderly, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. “So… we’re doing this then? You’re letting me…?”

“Yes, it’s about time, right? And… I know we haven’t known each other long but I trust you,” you smile, leaning into his hand. He smiles too.

“When you know, you know,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you exhale. These words speak of something much deeper, feelings that would be crazy to voice so soon after meeting, but feelings that are shared anyway, just covertly. Somehow, even if it’s crazy, you both know. He gently pulls your face back to his, kissing you again, keeping it tender. His hand on your cheek caresses for a little while longer before returning to your thigh, further up now, closer to the tantalising swell of your hip. He rubs slow circles, enjoying the feeling of you, wishing he was touching bare skin. He pulls back, peppering a few kisses across your jaw. 

“May I see you?”

“See me?” you question anxiously. He soothes you by rubbing your back.

“To take off your clothes?” he clarifies. You shiver and suddenly look very shy again. “Hey, I will think you’re beautiful no matter what you look like,” he promises. “You’re so beautiful, it’s plain to see,” you still look nervous and don’t make any moves. “We can’t really do this with clothes on,” he jokes softly, squeezing the plush of your thigh. You smile despite your reservations.

“But you have to get naked too,” you assert, trying not to let your voice shake.

“Of course,” he agrees. He gently moves you off of his lap and sheds his sweater vest, then unbuttons his shirt, not letting his insecurities get to him so that he can reassure you. He’s sure he has much more to worry about than you do, but if he got nervous, it wouldn’t help your nerves. He discards his shirt and sits there shirtless, feeling better when you smile at him. You slowly but surely pull your sweater over your head, leaving you in a plain black bra. Your cheeks are flushed and he finds it incredibly sweet. He places a hand on your bare waist, kissing your shoulder before carefully unhooking your bra for you. You take shaky breaths, clearly nervous as he turns you around to look at you. He is immediately baffled by how you could be so insecure looking the way you do. He smiles down at you. “Very beautiful,” he soothes, kissing your neck gently. “I’d love to worship them, but I think we should speed this up before you overthink it too much,”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, shivering as his hands skim over your bare skin. 

“No, I was a nervous wreck my first time, you’re doing way better than I was,” he promises, and it’s true. He briefly feels bad for the woman he lost his virginity to but pushes the thought away to focus on this much better experience. He tilts your chin, pressing his lips to yours again, kissing you softly. His hands slowly explore your skin, cupping gently. You’re warm and weighty in his hands and he loves the feeling, squeezing softly. You moan into the kiss and he delights in it completely. He gives one last slight squeeze to you before pulling back again. “If you let me, I’ll explore you thoroughly later, I quite like to understand exactly how things work inside and out,” you swallow and nod. He stands, carefully unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them down. Your eyes immediately flick to the bulge in his boxers and he’s momentarily embarrassed until he realises you seem happy to see it. “That’s what your beauty does to me,” he whispers, making you giggle shyly. He smiles, and then slowly, a little apprehensive, he lowers his boxers too. Your eyes are glued to him in interest.

“Can you sit down?” you ask softly. He complies. You lower your jeans, leaving yourself in your underwear for now and he admires the skin of your thighs and the beautiful curve of your hips. You carefully wrap your hand around him and he gasps in surprise. “May I?” you ask, examining him a little as he twitches in your hand.

“Y-yeah, absolutely, go ahead,” he swallows, letting out a throaty groan as you slide your hand up and down in the way you’ve heard about. He seems to like it. You watch his face as you adjust your hold, figuring out what's too loose and what's too tight until you find the perfect grip. He smiles a little at your analytical approach, tilting your chin so he can kiss you while you slowly stroke him. One of his arms wraps around you, the other propping him up. He kisses you intently as you carefully experiment with how to touch him. It’s an odd sensation, holding him in your hand like this, but you find you quite like it. You kiss and caress him for a few minutes, finally falling into a rhythm he clearly enjoys based on the soft noises he’s letting out before he stops you. You pout a little as he moves your hand away by the wrist. “Sorry, but I was getting too close and we haven’t… you know…” he smiles, kissing your jaw again. 

“Right,” you swallow as he starts to guide you back with him again until he’s against the headboard. He traces the sides of your panties softly. 

“Come on, you can take these off, I promise I will like whatever I see,” he assures. You take a deep breath and then shuffle yourself out of your panties. You’re shy, no one has ever seen you like this before. He smiles, gently massaging the flesh of your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. You shuffle forward, your face red with embarrassment. He kisses your cheeks and carefully slides his hand down your stomach, giving you time to tell him to stop, before slipping his finger between your folds, rubbing softly up and down. He hums, feeling that you’re nice and wet. His fingers make you moan timidly and you close your eyes as his fingers gently explore. His free hand rubs your side soothing as he ever so carefully begins to slip a finger inside you. You moan, your head tipping back as his finger reaches further than your own ever have. “Another place to explore thoroughly later,” he says matter-of-factly as if the thought isn’t incredibly arousing. He spends a few minutes carefully stretching you out, easing in a second finger and pumping them in and out with great care. He watches as you moan and writhe above him and thinks that you look simply irresistible right now, leaning down and placing a few kisses on your stomach until he thinks you’re finally ready. 

He slowly withdraws his fingers, which makes your eyes flutter back open to meet his. He leans up to peck your lips and then guides your hips a little until you’re above him, then positioning his cock against you, making both of you hiss a little. The head of his cock catches your entrance and he takes a deep breath.

“There, you can set the pace, okay? Lower down as slow as you like,” he smiles, free hand still rubbing your side soothingly. You nod, taking a few laboured breaths before slowly starting to lower yourself onto him. You gasp at the stretch, even though it’s not too painful, stopping and starting as you lower yourself. He holds your hips with a feather-light touch, careful not to push you at all, holding himself back from bucking into your tight heat. His eyes are glued to your face as your lips part in pleasure. You fully seat yourself on him and sit there for a while, catching your breath and getting used to the feeling. He twitches inside you and he hopes you don’t mind the feeling as he cannot get it under control. His hands drift up and down your sides. “How is it?”

“Yeah, ah… I feel full…” you whine softly.

“In a good way?”

“In the best way, I’m going to feel empty the rest of my life after this,” you laugh slightly. He laughs too, although the words are oddly moving to him. His thumbs rub your hips.

“Want me to guide the pace?” he asks softly, eyes glued on yours despite his usual aversions.

“Y-yeah, that would be good,” you nod, sighing softly as he begins to carefully lift your hips. You hold his shoulders as he moves you slowly up and down his length. He groans and bites his lip under you, moving you a little faster, making sure to listen out to make sure you’re feeling pleasure from his pace. You feel perfect around him, absolutely blissful, and he hopes beyond hope that you feel the same. He tugs you down to kiss you, holding you still as he starts to buck up into you. Your lips move together messily as he fucks up into you, careful to keep it from being too hard. He rubs your back as he kisses you.

“Do you feel good?”

“So good…” you whimper, trailing off into a string of moans. He loves the sound of you, wishing his eidetic memory worked on sounds so he could remember the way you sound forever. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible as he fills your body with pleasure, fucking you nice and deep. You whisper fragmented compliments to him as he drives you closer and closer to the edge, holding you close and kissing you desperately. “I’m going to– oh God–,” you moan needily, he groans in response, moving faster. 

“Yeah, come on, I’m with you,” he grunts, squeezing you closer to his body. With a few more deep thrusts, he feels you falling apart around him, making him whimper. He kisses you lovingly as stars explode behind his eyes, his mouth parting with throaty noises as he spills inside you. His chest heaves, his hands sliding up and down your body in a calming gesture as you both come down. He gently lifts you off of him and lies you down beside him on the bed, watching as you wipe the sweat from your brow. He hops up without a word and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you a little nervous and confused. When he reappears, you calm down, realising he’s just holding a damp cloth. He spreads your legs, making you blush despite what you’ve just done and wipes you clean with careful precision. 

“Thanks,” you whisper. 

“Well, it was my mess after all,” he smiles, taking the cloth back to the bathroom and rinsing it. He joins you back on the bed, staring at you for a moment. “Was that okay? You don’t regret it do you?” 

“Yes, it was good, I don’t regret it,” you assure him, leaning into his as he kisses your cheek.

“Good, neither do I,” he lies beside you, pulling the blanket over the two of you and reaching over to caress your cheek. His thumb skims your lower lip. “Now, get a little rest, I intend to fully acquaint myself with your body in a bit, and I can be very thorough with things that interest me,”

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xoxoxo