#criminal minds fix it fic

[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

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[venusbyline]

I really loved your fanfic with Cat Adams! It was sooo goodd 💙💙 I wouldn't be opposed if you want to write more for her 😂 ~ 🐳

thanksss <3 <3 sorry Spencie BUT I LOVEEEEE MY EVIL AND PYSCHO GIRL SO MUCH 😭😭 i really wanna write more fics about her soon

Smart - Cat Adams x female!reader

[thatshadowgastwhore]

“Elle left the show-“ to YOU. To me, she and Reid never lost contact, she became a successful private investigator, they eloped, and the team doesn’t find out until some time when Reid is in the hospital or something and Elle and their daughter shows up to see her husband bc he’s not allowed to die without her say so, and also they’re both bisexual, thank you and good night

[storiesofsvu]

A Thin Line

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, some medical situations (again, likely some inaccuracies, don't come for me), minor mentions of the Lauren arc/past trauma/anxiety, but mainly fluff and all happy ending! Covers a bingo square for @prentiss-theorem and also is a fix it fic (i guess lol) for s7e15 of the same title. I just thought things were kinda brushed over in the aftermath.... so here we are.

The team had been in San Bernardino, California for nearly a week now solving what was originally thought to be a series of home invasions linked to gangs in the area. It was after piecing together the threads and a victim getting away that you were able to apprehend the unsub, the team was split up between addresses, Rossi, Reid and Hotch over at the unsubs while Morgan, JJ, Emily and you were heading to Councilwoman Hillary Ross’, knowing that she was one of two next likely targets.

Everything seemed to be going to plan as Derek and JJ snuck around to the back of the house, waiting only on you and Em to burst through the front as Emily announced herself, calling out into the house at just the wrong moment. Her eyes darted toward the unsub, noting the gun in his hand, pointed directly at her and only a second later she felt the burning in her shoulder, jolting back into the wall behind her as she groaned.

“Shit!”

“You’re hit.” You stalled, turning back to her and she nudged you in the direction of the unsub.

“I’m fine!”

“He’s upstairs!” You called over to the other two who had burst through the back door, flying up the stairs to take the unsub down.

“Go.” Emily urged, wincing as your hand came up to the injury, pressing against the wound.

“Like hell I’m going anywhere right now.” You muttered, tugging at your radio to call for medics.

“I said I’m fine.” She insisted, nudging at you once more, “you can go.”

“It’s already two on one, I’m sure they’re doing great. And you’re not fine, you just took a bullet Emily.” You could feel her blood slowly seeping in between your fingers, you would’ve been worried if it wasn’t for the amount of attitude you were getting from her, the scowl persistent on her face.

“It’s nothing.” She grumbled, letting out an annoyed sigh at the flashing lights outside as the ambulance pulled up, “oh come on.”

“You’re gonna need stitches at the bare minimum, c’mon.” Gently lifting her arm over your shoulder you helped her outside and to the paramedics.

Much to Emily’s dismay, she was told she would likely need more than just stitches, that an actual doctor would have to take a look at her before making the official decision and before she knew it she was being transported to a hospital. Even more annoying was that her adrenaline was starting to wear off, the fight or flight draining from her body as the pain began to creep in. She winced as she moved on the stretcher, letting out a quiet hiss and felt her cheeks flushing as your gaze shot to her, concern in your eyes.

“We’re almost there.” You murmured softly, reaching to squeeze her hand, almost surprised at the way her hand wrapped around your thumb, keeping you there instead of letting you pull away. The touch brought a comfort Emily needed but wasn’t ready to ask for, wasn’t ready to admit she even wanted. Her gaze remained turned away from you as she let out a low breath, trying to will the immense pain in her shoulder to go away.

The emergency room was a cacophony of noises, patients crying, yelping out, doctors, paramedics and nurses calling out to each other, demanding what they needed for their cases, alarm bells going off, phones ringing off the hook, the whir and beeping of machines. It was completely overstimulating and enough to block out the pain Emily was feeling briefly while they rolled her through the admittance stages. Your hand had been ripped away from hers as they’d unloaded her from the ambulance, leaving a cold spot on her skin as she tried to block out her surroundings. The lights were bright, still harsh even if she closed her eyes, she felt someone prodding at her skin as they started an IV, grimacing as the needle pierced her skin, the smell of rubbing alcohol burning at her nostrils. The noises from the ER were now slightly muffled, but there were as many beeping monitors and fast talking doctors moving around her right now. She could just hear your voice over the hum of noise, giving her credentials and details of what happened to a doctor, conversation talked over by one of the paramedics as she heard her stats being listed off. She was hooked up to another couple of machines, creating more beeping that was beginning to overwhelm her before the room suddenly seemed to empty.

“Paramedics patched you up pretty good.” Your voice rung through the air and her eyes cracked open, looking up at you with hesitancy in her eyes.

“Then we can go, right?”

“No.” You laughed softly, “you’re just not as emergent as some of the other cases. You’re under observation until they can get you a CT to check for internal damages and we’ll go from there.”

“I hate hospitals.” She grumbled, shifting awkwardly on the gurney, hating how on display she felt. The remaining nurse in the room seemed to sense her uncomfortable-ness, moving over and adjusting it so it was propped up and she could sit upright.

“It shouldn’t be too long Agent Prentiss; they’re just waiting for a backlog at the CT machine to clear out.” They explained, giving you both a brief smile before they disappeared from the room.

“Since when do you have a problem with hospitals?” You asked, dropping onto a spare stool, watching her curiously.

“I’ve just spent enough time in and out of them over the past year.” She replied quietly, ducking her gaze as she picked at her fingernails.

“Hey,” your hand reached out, stopping her destructive movements and she glanced toward you, “you’re non emergent, you’re sitting upright and talking and like you’ve been insisting since Ross’, you’re fine.”

“Thanks.” She flashed a tight smile to you and you squeezed at her hand, only pulling away when your phone pinged and you dug it out of your pocket to read the message.

“They got him, finishing up paperwork now. Hotch wants to know if you want them to meet us here.”

“Oh god no!” Emily groaned, wincing as she moved her arm to run a hand over her face, “I don’t need a fucking audience waiting for me. Tell him they can go home, hell, you can go with them.”

“Well tough titty.” You pocketed your phone, “I’m not going anywhere. You got shot; I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Emily felt a warmth spreading through her chest, knowing that she had someone by her side for the entire thing, unlike last time, she wasn’t facing this on her own. She felt her heart start to calm down rather than racing in her chest, sighing softly as her body relaxed into the stretcher. She was fine, she was going to be fine.

“You’re too nice to me, you know that.” She rolled her head to look at you, a dopey smile on her face and you practically snorted.

“I think those drugs are starting to kick in Prentiss.”

She frowned, pouting at you and you laughed again, this time glancing away as you prayed she was too distracted to pick up on the thudding of your heart in your chest.

Okay. Maybe the warmth spreading through her was the painkillers, but at least she wasn’t focusing on the pain in her shoulder and the terror of being trapped in a hospital anymore.

Though that sense of calm and comfort only lasted the next hour. The results from the CT were exactly what Emily didn’t want to hear.

“Surgery?!” She protested, “you can’t be serious! Can’t you just leave it in?”

“No.” The doctor chuckled softly, “that risks more damage than taking it out.”

“So just rip it out now, here.”

“I do that and you’re gonna hate me for how much pain your in.” They countered.

“Full blown surgery just seems like a complete waste of time and resources.” Emily commented, “for something as trivial as this?”

“Agent Prentiss, I can assure you it’s a very simple procedure and it won’t take very long at all. We’ll have you patched up and out of here by morning with some pain killers.”

“No I—”

“If there’s an issue with pain killers, general anesthesia isn’t in the same, you’ll most likely sleep it off and only feel a little bit groggy when you wake up from being under.”

“No, that’s the part I don’t want.” Emily felt like her heart was beating out of her chest, her throat tight and she wasn’t fully able to catch her breath. The beeping next to her seemed to be getting louder with each moment that flickered by and she was sinking into a nightmare where she couldn’t tell tonight apart from the last night she’d spent in a hospital.

“Em…” Your voice was soft, your hand coming up to squeeze at hers gently, thumb rubbing reassuringly, a cool touch on her burning skin. “Just breathe for me, okay?” You turned to the doctor, “is there any way you could do this with a local anesthesia or something? Something where she doesn’t have to be asleep?”

“There likely isn’t a doctor who would.” He replied, “the CT didn’t give full visibility, if an artery gets nicked we’d have to put her under in a rush and adding extra things on the to do list in a situation like that isn’t ideal. I didn’t see anything in her medical history about a reaction to anesthesia.”

“It’s not exactly medical.” You replied, feeling Emily’s hand squeezing at yours.

“I don’t have the greatest track record with being put under.” She muttered and the beeping on the heart monitor started to increase again.

“Hey…” you shifted from your spot on the stool so you were perched on the edge of the gurney, grabbing her other hand, “look at me.” You waited for a moment until she actually looked up at you, the fear in her eyes slowly melting away as you shot her a small smile, “you need to stop deflecting and shutting down. They’re just trying to do their jobs and get you outta here healthy and in one piece, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen. You’ve got a bullet in your shoulder and the longer it’s in there the more risk you’re at, so let’s do this, okay? You’re not alone, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere okay? I’ll take care of you. I’ll be as close by as I possibly can the entire time, I mean, they’ve gotta give us some leeway, we are federal agents.” You raised a brow in the direction of the doctor who let out a huff of a laugh mixed with a sigh.

“I’ll have someone escort you to the gallery.”

“Thank you.” You nodded, “And like you being knocked out is gonna have me running off, I promise. I’ll be there the whole time and when you wake up.”

Emily let out a long low breath, the tightness in her chest finally easing as chewed on her lip, “okay. You better not be lying, if I wake up on the other side of the country you’ll be the one with a bullet lodged in your shoulder.”

“Em!” You scolded with a laugh, watching as a small smile finally broke out on her lips.

Emily focused on her breathing and remaining calm, listening to your voice as you walked with them all the way down to the OR floor. She wasn’t even sure what you were rambling on about, you always had the most ridiculous stories from when you babysat your nephew and they were mindless enough yet also wild enough that it would steer her mind away from the thought of being put under again. You squeezed her hand once more, saying a quick ‘see you soon’ before you were taken up to the gallery and you watched the way Emily’s eyes flicked toward you as she counted down from ten, letting out a breath to know that you were there, watching over her and this would be over before she even knew it.

The low beeping and dull ache in her shoulder were what roused her first, shifting slightly in the bed with a quiet groan, trying not to agitate her shoulder too much. Without opening her eyes she knew there was a soft light coming from somewhere in the room, much nicer than the glare of the fluorescent overheads and the next thing her ears picked up was the sound of a page of a book being turned before the creaking of a chair.

“Em?” Your voice whispered into the night, leaning forward against the side of the bed and she groaned, her eyes fluttering open.

“Shit still sucks.” She complained, pushing herself up to sitting and you let out a chuckle.

“How’s the pain?”

“Not too bad.” She swallowed, reaching out for the glass of water on the nightstand. As she fully woke up and her eyes adjusted to the light in the room she was able to take you in, spotting the bags under your eyes, the slight redness in them and the fact that you’d somehow snagged a hospital issued hoodie that was about three sizes too big to curl up in. “How late is it?” She asked and you looked at your watch.

“Almost six.” You replied with a tired yawn.

“You haven’t slept yet.” It wasn’t a question; it was an observation and you shrugged.

“I wanted to be awake when you came to, doctor said it wouldn’t be too long. And I definitely wasn’t about to sleep while you were in surgery, besides, it was pretty cool to watch.”

Emily observed you for a moment, her eyes drilling into you so much that you ducked your gaze, picking up your own drink to distract yourself, praying the heat in your cheeks wasn’t noticeable in the low light of the room.

“Why would you do this much for me? You could have left with the rest of the team.”

“I promised you wouldn’t be alone. I care about you, I wanted you to feel safe, I mean, you’re my… friend.” You shrugged it off, picking at the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Okay, now who’s shutting down and deflecting?” She asked with a tease in her voice, prodding at your arm and you let out a soft sigh, glancing back up at her with a playful glare in your eyes.

“Being in the hospital alone sucks enough on its own. The last time you had surgery you woke up across the world completely isolated and if that was me I would’ve been terrified. I know you don’t want to admit it and I’ll never mention it to the rest of the team but you were scared earlier and I wanted to make sure you knew I would be here for you, no matter what. And I… would like to hope that if the tables were turned that you’d do the same for me?”

“Are you kidding me?” A laugh burst from her lips, “of course I would! I really don’t think you have any idea how much you mean to me. You still being on the team and being around was the main reason I decided to stay, no matter how awkward it was with everyone else.”

“Now you’re just making stuff up.” You ducked your gaze once again, this time no doubt the blush on your cheeks noticeable.

“Not at all.” Emily’s finger curled under your chin, turning your eyes up to her, “you were an absolute sweetheart today without even needing to ask and that was exactly what I needed, even if I am too stubborn to say anything. When we get back I’d really like to pay you back by taking you to dinner.”

“Really?” Your brow furrowed, wondering if she was finally stepping across the line the two of you had been toeing since she’d gotten back.

“Yeah.” She softly pinched at your chin, “you can read me better than anyone else. You know me almost better than I do some days and… I really care about you too.”

“Okay.” You laughed softly, the smile remaining on your cheeks, “well then I think that sounds great.”

“Great.” She smiled across at you, “it’s a date.” She gently tugged at your arm, “now c’mon, you need to get some sleep and there’s plenty of room up here.”

With a small laugh you shifted, kicking off your shoes and sliding under the blanket into Emily’s embrace, careful not to nudge her left arm too much. You let out a small yawn as you nestled into her uninjured shoulder, her free arm wrapping around you as she relaxed back into the bed, a sigh of relief finally feeling you in her arms. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she was completely safe and wouldn’t have to worry about being alone ever again, not with you around. Her lips brushed against the top of your head; a feather light kiss left on your hair as she spoke.

“Thank you.”

________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @strongsassysexysloane @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble

[frankiebirds]

i think it's interesting that reid looks at gideon specifically right after this line. maybe it's just that he feels gideon looking at him. maybe its just that they're close. or maybe he looks towards gideon because it hurts particularly badly that gideon didnt help :(

[somefanficrecomendations]

X-MEN PODFIC REC

An Act Too Often Neglected read by reena_jenkins First Class, (Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier), 12 min Logan didn’t much like Erik Lehnsherr when he first met him in a bar about a year ago. Logan likes him a lot less after he dumps Logan’s tranquilized carcass on Charles Xavier’s doorstep like a dog presenting its owner with a stunned rabbit.

But Also the Sex Thing read by aethel-multivioce, elaineofshallot, reena_jenkins, secretsofluftnarp, Shmaylor, silverandblue, wingedwords Alternate Timeline Movies, (Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier), 17 min, Crack, Matchmaking Professor X and Magneto have a few additional instructions for Logan, as long as, you know, he's going to be back in time

Enigma read by paraka Movieverse, (Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier), 1.5hrs, Time-Travel Fix-It      Written for the following prompt: Erik dies, or finds a reversey-time mutant, or a magical time travelling device, and wakes up in the past. This time, though, it's before he ever met Charles - in fact, it's before his mother died.      He can save his mother that one time (thanks to his mastery over powers carrying back), but what does Erik do after that? Does he stick around, or escape and run to find Charles again (and hope everything doesn't go wrong)?

Just Like A Child read by quietnight Deadpool, (Vanessa Carlysle/Wade Wilson), 56 mins     “Honey,” Wade calls over his shoulder without taking his eyes off their visitor. “Why is there a teenage mutant in our breakfast nook? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he says to Negasonic, who raises her eyebrows owlishly.      Vanessa comes out of the bedroom and hooks her chin over Wade’s shoulder.      “Do you think she heard me getting my spanking?” he whispers. “Because that was *private* noise.”      “I don’t know,” Vanessa says. “But she looks like she needs some coffee and pancakes, don’t you think?”      Negasonic grins. It’s scary as fuck.

If You Liked The Book, You'll Hate The Movie read by croissantkatie First Class, (multi), 6.25 hrs, AU-No Powers, AU-High School It’s not until Hank realizes half the class are glancing towards the back of the classroom with something like nerves and something like schadenfreude that he finds out Alex Summers is back.

Meeting the Family read by SalazarTipton X-Men x Criminal Minds, (Remy LeBeau/Spencer Reid) 35 mins, 5+1 The five times that Remy meets Spencer's family on his own and then the time the whole team truly meets Remy and Spencer's actually there for that one.

[rianavi]

nightmare (spencer reid x reader)

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer shows up at your door late at night, hoping that you can somehow calm him down from his nightmare

contains: comfort/hurt, fluff, angst (if you squint), reader and spencer arent dating yet, mutual pining, obsession, nightmares, talk of murder

wc: 0.5k just a short drabble

Your sat at your couch, mug of tea in hand while you flip through the pages of your book.

This was something you’ve down your whole career. Working with the BAU meant a lot of stressful cases and sights. Sometimes all you needed was to relax and escape into the fantasy world of Faerie.

You had just marked your page and began to get ready for bed when you heard a knock at the door.

Your surprised when you find Spencer standing at your door, hands intertwined in front of him while he rocks on his heels.

“Spencer? What’s going on? Come on in.” You open the door fully and gesture him in. Locking the door behind him.

He stands in front of you, hands twitching and ears flushed red. “I, uh, didn’t know where else to go.”

You notice the slight tremble in his voice, even when he covers it with a cough.

Worried you hesitantly grab his hand and pull him over to the couch. You sat down putting some distance between the two of you and let go of his hand, knowing he has a thing for germs.

You miss the frown on his face before he clears his throat and begins speaking. “I had a dream. A bad one.”

He looks up at you and takes in the warmth and nurturing feeling that radiates from you. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, leaning into the arm of the couch and pulling a blanket over your bare legs.

“Um, it was about the case. Except it was you who had gone in instead of Hotch. It wasn’t just some cuts and scrapes either, you had gotten shot. In the hospital, the doctors told us that you wouldn’t make it.” He whispers the last part and looks down at his hands while they fiddle with the frayed ends of his sweater.

“Spencer, it’s okay to have nightmares, everyone does. Hell even Hotch does. I’m alright, I’m alive and well, sitting right here.” I grab his hand and look into his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

“But what if you’re not? What if someday you get hurt and- and you don’t come back.” He moves his hands around frantically before staring at you.

“What if you don’t come back to me?” He whispers, voice trembling and hands grabbing at yours.

The sight makes your heart break and you immediately grab onto his wrists, mindful not to hurt him.

“Spencer you listen to me. I am okay, I am alive, and I will always come back to you. There’s a reason we go in with backup and spend time planning. I promise you Spencer I won’t go away.”

You stare into his eyes and slide your hands into his. “Besides it’s not that easy to get rid of me.”

He smiles at you and shuffles forward wrapping his arms around your waist.

Taken aback you freeze, your hands hover over his back and your breath hitches.

Before he takes your halt in the wrong way, you wrap your arms around his neck while he burries his face into your neck, enjoying your warmth.

“Thank you.” He whispers softly into your hair.

The rain against your window seems to match up with his breathing.

[soul-wanderer]

Will "how dare you want some privacy in terms of your private life when it comes to your work"

Will "I don't care about your wish for privacy and will tell your entire team that you are pregnant"

Will "I am going to propose to you in front of your team so you can't say no, because I know you were unsure if you wanted to get married in the first place"

Will "I am going to accuse and guilt trip you for being passionate about your job, something I have known since day one, but goodness forbid a woman wants to be more than a mother"

JJ "you are my husband, but you are not the one I cry for when I need to be saved"

but also

JJ "you are my husband, but you are not the one I confide in when I am at my worst"

[missmitchieg]

I went looking for fics with a certain tag and saw this

so I'm writing a fic to rectify that

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

aaaah i want the terror to be more up on my ao3 account, don't bury her my beloved!!!!!

[50044w44s]

Spencer will never love Sky the way Sky loves Spencer.

Fic: Underground Affluence on AO3

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Hey!

Just wanna say I really like your writing🫶🏻😊

I’m just curious to why you write like this:

_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on your height) 

_y/e/p’s/n_ = your ex-partner’s name (the ex is an ass so add the name of someone you dislike here) 

_y/n_ = your name 

I only ask because in the time I’m reading I will forget what they stand for (except y/n)😅

But also because I find it unpleasant (idk the right word for it?) for my reading when I read _y/n_ instead of just y/n. Like y/n it’s just more simple if that make sense?

Idk if anyone feels the same, but yeah I still really like your work🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi lovely Anon!

Thank you so much for your ask and that you like my writing 😊

I have actually answered this before and you can see that post here (linked) I also did a poll on it and everyone voted that I start formatting _y/n_ as y/n which I now do. So if you go to my page, all my fics starting with Roses and Sparkling Water are formatted the new way! I do really care about how my readers feel about formatting so I have started to change that. I haven't had time to go back to my old fics and change the old formatting to the new yet. However, I do like consistency, so maybe I'll try and start going back and doing one a week until they are all y/n instead of _y/n_. I'll update this post when that happens.

As for the _u/sf/d_ bits, I do that to be as inclusive as possible. I know that if I was standing in front of Hotch, I'd have to look up at him, but not all of my followers are my height. I want to make sure people feel like they can actually picture themselves in the reader's shoes and not just have it be an insert of me.

Thank you so much for your kind ask and for letting me know you like my work. That makes me soooo happy. I'm kicking my feet as we speak in the coffee shop. I hope you have a lovely day and week Anon - Levi ❤️

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

I accept and appreciate all comments and constructive criticisms of all my work. As a teacher, it is highly appreciated. I also love mail, so if you wanna tell me something about our fav little guys or have a story idea or request, feel free to ask me.

[gold-onthe-inside]

if anyone needs more evidence of criminal minds being copaganda, in exit wounds they literally haul in everyone who's got a prior, or a bruise or bloody clothes and then keep a suspect in custody for 24 hours when there's no evidence of wrongdoing and act like it's a completely reasonable thing to do because 'hey, if you're in custody and the killer strikes again, then you're in the clear' ... which by the way is exactly the kind of logic they used in fucking witch trials and is not how the law is supposed to work ... and THEN HIS MOM IS KILLED and they're really just gonna go like, oops?

fucking look at that holding cell. what the fuck?

[gaydryad]

working on pride art in advance and having way too much fun futzing around with outfit colors. ft. the new aperiodic regular tile

[pencil-n-pen]

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

₊ ⊹

I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

₊ ⊹

summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

--

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

--

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

--

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

--

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

--

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

--

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

--

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

--

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

--

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the teeth, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the T.V.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

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[auggieblogs]

The brow incident | Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x fem! reader

Author’s note: Hiii, loves!!! Hope you all are doing good. My first Spencer fic and definitely not my last because I cannot for the love of god, get that man out of mind. I AM OBSESSED so please expect criminal minds fics in the future. Anywaysss, happy reading💗

Warning: sexual innuendos

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

“Spence,” you said sweetly, leaning against the back of the chair he had just sat in. “You know how much I love you, right?”

Spencer glanced up at you suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. “Yes… and I feel like you’re about to weaponize that love against me.”

You grinned. “Not against you. For you. Your eyebrows, to be specific.”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “We’ve talked about this, Y/N. They’re fine. They don’t need fixing.”

(For weeks, you’d been trying to convince him to let you fix his eyebrows. Not that they were bad, per se, but there was just a little untamed chaos there that you knew you could tame.)

“They’re not fine. You’ve got stray hairs everywhere, and it’s driving me insane. I just want to clean them up a little!”

“I’d like to remind you that I’m a grown man and perfectly capable of managing my own eyebrows,” he protested, even though you both knew he never did.

You sighed dramatically. “You’ve left me no choice.”

Before he could protest further, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him and effectively trapping him in the chair.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” he exclaimed, his hands instinctively moving to steady you at your waist.

“Taking matters into my own hands,” you said with a smirk, pulling a pair of tweezers out of your pocket.

Spencer groaned again, his cheeks flushing pink. “This is unfair. You’re using my inability to physically overpower you against me.”

“Correct,” you chirped. “Now, hold still.”

He muttered something about how this was a violation of his personal space, but he didn’t move. You leaned in, examining his brows with laser focus.

“Okay, this won’t hurt too much,” you promised, carefully plucking the first stray hair.

“OW!” he yelped, flinching.

“Oh, stop being a baby,” you teased, gripping his chin to steady him. “One down, a hundred to go.”

Spencer huffed, his hands instinctively resting on your waist to keep you balanced. “I don’t even know why this is necessary. No one’s looking at my eyebrows that closely.”

“I am,” you replied, plucking another hair.

“Lucky me,” he grumbled, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.

The next few minutes were filled with his exaggerated whining and your mock scolding, the both of you laughing more than anything else. But then, as you leaned in to focus on a particularly stubborn hair, you shifted slightly on his lap.

That’s when you felt it.

Your movements stilled, and you glanced down, realizing exactly what had happened. A slow grin spread across your face as you looked up at Spencer, whose cheeks were already turning a deep shade of red.

“Oh,” you said, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Don’t,” he warned, his tone a mix of mortification and desperation.

You burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The sight of his flushed face and his clear discomfort was just too funny. “Oh my God, Spencer! This is hilarious.”

“It’s not hilarious,” he muttered, his voice muffled as he hid his face in his hands. “It’s biology. It’s involuntary.”

“Involuntary, huh?” you teased, leaning forward just enough to make him groan in protest. “So you’re saying this has nothing to do with me?”

“Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice a low warning. “This is serious.”

“It’s seriously funny,” you said, still laughing as you climbed off his lap, much to his relief—and apparent dismay.

But before you could move far, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist. “You can’t just leave me like this,” he said, his voice soft but laced with need.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Leave you like what, Spence?”

“You know what,” he said, his pout returning full force. “You started this. You should finish it.”

His words sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little longer. “Finish your eyebrows first?”

Spencer let out a groan, leaning back in the chair with a defeated look. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. “And yet, you love me.”

He sighed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I do. Even when you’re torturing me.”

You grinned, stepping closer and letting your fingers trail along his jaw. “Tell you what, Dr. Reid. If you’re a good boy and let me finish your eyebrows, I’ll see what I can do about… your problem.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your tone, and he swallowed hard. “Deal.”

“Good,” you said with a wink, grabbing the tweezers again. “Now hold still.”