BAU, Quantico.

TITLE: Lover of Mine [10:58 pm, 11/08/20]

AUTHOR: criminalmindsdrabbles

RATING:  T-T+

RELATIONSHIPS: Spencer Reid x Reader

PROMPT/SUMMARY: @candice-wayland requested in 2018, (Jesus I’m so sorry for logging out bc that’s why it’s taking two years as I forgot my password!): can you do one where the reader is traumatised and she refuses to cry, even though she needs to, and Spencer helps her??

WORD COUNT: N/A (I’m on notes so I can’t tell, I’m so sorry!)

TRIGGER WARNING: talks about a gun to someone’s head and deep cuts? If there’s anything else let me know!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: so I’m pretty sure my last one was in like?? 2017?? Holy shit but um. Yeah. Here you go? Another Spencer Reid one because who can say no to Spencer Reid?

MULTI-CHAPTERS: it can be, if people want it!

She’d been fine on the flight back. Normal, even. She’d laughed and joked with JJ, and teased Matt and Luke relentlessly like she did her own brothers. She had sat with Dave and done her paperwork so she didn’t have to do it at two in the morning (something she was prone to doing.) She had been fine.

And then she’d got back to her flat, saying goodnight to luke who was a couple of doors down, and shut the door.

And then there was silence.

And that... was more difficult to deal with. But still. She’d put her go bag outfits in the wash, watched a tv programme without watching it whilst it dried, ironed it and folded it back up for the inevitable call.

And once she was in bed, restless from the start, she remembered.

-

“Any last words, Agent Y/L/N?,” the unsub taunted you. Jacob Mikaelson. A 21 year old who had snapped when a girl had rejected him after years of pent up feelings. You had a half mind to tell him to go suck your dick because it’d be bigger but had a feeling, considering the gun pointed in the middle of your forehead, that that’d be an unwise choice.

“Just one thing,” you were proud of yourself, and the ability to keep your voice calm and devoid of the panic you felt rising in you. He gave you a lecherous smirk and you swallowed down the bile. Not the time.

“She won’t love you.” He flinched, minutely, but still flinched nevertheless. And then cocked the gun. Well, fuck, you lamented in your head, forcing yourself to roll your eyes as if you were bored and not terrified.

“No matter how many people you kill, Jacob, she will never love you. She never has and she never will. Not now that you’ve gone down this route,” he looked like she was hitting him and she supposed she was with the words.

It had always been something she had been good at.

“She’s already engaged Jacob. And she’s pregnant,” this, you considered, was not entirely true. She was pregnant but only you and Spencer had figured that out. “She will never love you. All you’ll be to her is a monster.” He pushed the gun to your head and you kept your eyes on him, wanting to stare him down as he took your life if nothing else, and forced a smile onto your face. “Last words spoken,” you taunted, and just as he got ready to shoot you, to end your life, your team came bursting in, someone having kicked the door down.

-

It was safe to say you hadn’t had any sleep. You had tried. But every time you closed your eyes, your mind replayed the sound of the gun against your temple and you were wide awake. You put your hair in a low bun, foregoing makeup, knowing that the team would probably see through it anyway, and put a pair of black jeans on and a pale blue jumper that was oversized. Walking in, Luke raised and eyebrow at your state of attire, knowing that it was unlike you. You gave him a smile, as if nothing was wrong, and he gave you an easy smile in return. “Late night,” he teased you and you felt a smile tug at your lips, and laughed softly, shaking your head, walking with him to where your group was, in a rare moment, chilling at one of the tables. You sat down, kicking your legs up and leant back, relaxing a bit. It was sad, but true, that you never felt more at home than when you were in work.

“Nah. My boyfriend broke up with me a couple of months ago,” you said, shrugging, ignoring the stinging in your chest at the reminder, “didn’t like that I had a job that wasn’t nine to five,” you added, rolling your eyes and smirking, the girls chuckling, whilst the men looked shocked.

“We thought you were together still,” Spencer exclaimed and you nodded, not surprised in the least, seeing as that was what you wanted. You said as much.

“I wanted that, honestly. It was no big issue compared to that case we had going on and I had foreseen it coming for a while. We didn’t want the same things anymore, and I wasn’t willing to leave the job I love for a guy who I knew wasn’t going to stay faithful,” Spencer’s face flickered with something indescribable before he nodded.

“Well, if you ever want anyone to be set up with, I know a couple of guys who are good,” you gave Matt a smile, thankful for the gesture.

“Thank you, although at the moment, I’m more than content to just feed the stray cat that keeps coming to my flat,” Matt and Luke laughed.

“I though she was actually yours,” Luke exclaimed and you laughed, shaking your head,

“No, god no,” you laughed, “my sister would have a fit, seeing as she hates cats,” seeing the questioning look, you laughed, grateful no one had mentioned your state,

“I have four brothers and one sister. The brothers are all older,” your lips twitched, remembering the threats that had slipped from their mouths when they found out about your breakup, and a look of understanding crossed Matt’s face. Right, he had kids. They’d probably have similar relationships with each other. “So my brothers are complete twats,” you said, laughing, and Matt chuckled, Dave, who was the only one who had met them, joining in, “and when we were little, my sister was obsessed with wanting a cat. Like,” you leaned forward, not noticing Spencer staring at you, completely enraptured, “she put up a petition on the fridge and basically blackmailed my brothers and I into signing it,” you laughed, remembering your tall, teenage, football playing brothers being cowed into signing a sheet of paper by an eight year old.

“And so, as retaliation, they got the stray cat, fuck knows how, into our garden and basically presented him to her as a ‘gift’,” you put quotation marks around the last word and by now they were all listening, “anyway, she went to pet him and pick him up but he’s a stray and really fucking defensive so she got scratched on the arms,” here you grimaced, not having quite forgotten that scream, and seeing the blood, and the pure pain on her face.

“Anyway, she had to get a shit ton of stitches and ever since she’s kept a very wide berth of cats. She has a literal phobia of them, something we use as guilt trip ammunition when we need something,” you admitted and they laughed.

“So yeah. The cat isn’t mine, but I do love going out and sitting on the balcony and having a cup of coffee,” Garcia laughed quietly at the coffee and muttered something about ‘glorified sugar’, earning a middle finger in return, “with the cat laid on me. And I alway leave some food out for it too,” you added. They all looked amused and you raised an eyebrow.

“It’s totes yours,” Garcia said gleefully, and you shook your head, ready to deny it some more when Spencer laughed and you turned, your breath hitching slightly, and cursing yourself for the stupid crush you had on your co worker. You could see JJ smirk at your reaction and discreetly flipped her off.

“Cats typically don’t bond with just anyone, especially stray cats, and so when they do, it’s typically someone they consider ‘theirs’,” you felt your eyes go wide slightly and the team laughed.

“I was just feeding it!” You defended yourself, and he nodded, not phased,

“It probably began to trust you as a result and then saw you as theirs.” You groaned and the team laughed once more.

“Great,” you grumbled, “now I need to shop for cat supplies,” you weren’t actually put out as you knew your sister would come round eventually and you liked the cat, but still. It felt nice to be able to joke with the team.

-

On the way back, you laid your head on the plane window and sighed. The past few days had been tiring as it was, but paired with no sleep you were exhausted and you knew it was beginning to show. Someone slid into the seat opposite you and you looked up to see Spencer. You gave him a tired smile, something he returned and he looked out the window with you.

“You okay?” You looked at him and wondered if you could say yes, but realised that it was Spencer and that he, more than anyone, would see right through you, so you settled for a shrug,

“Just tired. The case was pretty heavy,” you admitted, hating that you felt like that, but he nodded.

“We saved her,” he pointed it out, gentle and soothing, something you knew was true. But still.

“Did we?” You murmured, “she’s gonna remember that growing up. She’s going to remember being tied down for some sick assholes pleasure and not being able to do anything about it. She was a kid,” your voice hitched slightly, and you saw Matt look over briefly before going back to talking to his wife.

“I know.” You looked at him then, and truly noticed for the first time the bags under his eyes and the way his hair was unkempt and fuck if it didn’t make your stomach flutter. “But she’s got her mum and dad and her brothers,” the last part, you realised was not meant for the kid, but for you and you nodded.

You did have your brothers. But you couldn’t talk to them about this. They hadn’t wanted you to join in the first place and had only just started coming round to your way of thinking, but you nodded nevertheless.

-

Walking in the next day, Spencer met you at the door and inclined his head in a way you knew meant that he wanted to talk. You wordlessly went with him, the two of you automatically going to the office Emily had got for you when the office got too much for your senses.

Once you were in you locked the door and went to get a drink for the both of you, not bothering to speak first, knowing he’d probably already known what he wanted to say.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your gaze snapped to his and he remained calm, and continued, “whatever it is that’s making it so you aren’t sleeping?” You felt your throat close up, suddenly dry and forced the lump that had appeared there down.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, knowing it was silly. But still, he gave you one of his earnest looks and you felt your lips move on their own accord. Stupid crush, “I’ve just been having nightmares for a couple of nights from our previous case,” he looked like he was correct (something you didn’t doubt) and nodded.

“The one which ended with the gun to your head right?” You tried to speak but found your throat had closed up and nodded. He sighed. “It isn’t your fault and you had no way of knowing he’d do that,” you found yourself shaking your head.

“I should have seen the signs, I should have been able to talk him down, I should have,” your voice broke and you found, to your growing horror, that you were crying. His eyes filled with understanding and he nodded, and wordlessly opened his arms. Normally you wouldn’t have entertained the idea but you didn’t hesitate to rush into them, sinking into the embrace and breaking dow, feeling as if you were letting out a tidal wave of emotions that had been being bottled up.

After what felt like an endless amount of time, you got your bearing and realised you were curled on Spencer, your head on his shoulder, and that at some point you’d been put on the sofa. Oh god, you thought, horrified, he’d just seen you when you were weak.

“You weren’t weak.” You didn’t dare lift your head up even at his words because of course he’d say that, “in fact, it’s stronger of you to show your emotions like that than not showing them,” his voice held certainty. You pulled away slightly and winced.

“I ruined your suit,” you mumbled, and he chuckled,

“I think, in the grand scheme of things, that you making my suit damp is the least of my worries,” he teased you and you laughed without meaning to, and felt him relax at the sound.

“Thank you,” you murmured and he nodded, his hair tickling you and you felt your lips twitch at the sensation,

TITLE: The Only Exception 
 AUTHOR: criminalmindsdrabbles
 RATING: M
 RELATIONSHIPS: HotchxReader 
 PROMPT/SUMMARY: could you do a hotchxreader where they are in a relationship and she gets kidnapped and he has to save her? 
 AUTHOR’S NOTE: sorry these are so late, snowflakes, I had my holiday and was working nearly every day afterwards
 ;MULTI-CHAPTERS: depends on if you guys want it as a multi chapter

——————

You had thought that it would be fine to go back to yours and Aaron’s room. It was only a few minutes away and the case was killing you both. Closing your eyes, praying that someone —Aaron more specifically —had realised that you were gone. You had thought that you’d be fine. All of the team had been trying to figure out who the unsub was going to kill next. He had snapped and gone on a killing spree, killing all of his classmates who had bullied him. Luckily you had just gotten the last member of the bullies to a safe house —or Morgan had —and you sighed in relief as he said this making JJ laugh and Hotch sending you an amused look when none of the remaining team members were watching and you made sure that you stuck your tongue out at him to get back at him, his lips curling into one of his rare but oh-so-amazing smiles he hid.

When everyone tried to figure out where this guys was you had felt your eyes drooping, and Rossi had commented on it, with a fatherly tone in his voice as he told you to go back to the room you and Aaron was sharing. And why shouldn’t you have? It was only three or four minutes away.

Neither you nor your team had realised that the unsub would kidnap you.

You turned to where he was getting whatever tool he was going to use ready and grit your teeth as he hummed an upbeat tune. Smug bastard. You wondered if you should sing just to piss him off. Then again, your broken ribs were protesting as you thought that so you decided that that could wait. For now you’d try and shed some light on why this fucked up guy had thought it was okay to kidnap you. You weren’t even in his school! Fuck it. “Hey!” You felt a rush of smugness as he stopped getting his tools ready and stopped humming. God he must really hate you, you thought. He didn’t say anything so you continued, “i figured that you wanted to kill the classmates because they bullied you. We all figured that out pretty quickly. It doesn’t really excuse it since it’s a shit excuse but I’m not really bothered about that at the moment. Why have you kidnapped me though? I didn’t even go to your fucking state. Let alone school! So why exactly are you doing this to me?” You honestly didn’t know. He scoffed (at least he didn’t ignore you, you thought) and turned towards you, and you held back a gasp because he did not look deformed or anything. No. He looked really, really, really hot. Not the time! Snap out of it! “Because you are just like them.” You frowned. How the hell was you like his bullies. You had gotten bullied for fucks sake! “Really because I thought I was more like you, you know with the whole being bullied part.” You stated, realising that you didn’t care if you got killed for it , it was true. “Right.” He drawled out, as if he didn’t believe you; which pissed you off. You had not gotten bullied so badly that you had to be taken out of school and be home schooled just so this twat could tell you you were like the bastards that had bullied you. “Trust me, I wish I was like them , maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten bullied so badly,” you heard a car pull up and realised you just had to stall him, “I remember being 9 and being in high school because I was stupidly smart and you know, that didn’t exactly sit well with the others in my class. I remember walking out one day and when it was just a few guys from my class, and no one else around —not that the teachers did anything to help —they shut me in a locker. Which, you know, would have been bas enough. But it was Friday. And no one came over the weekend, because school was closed. The only reason I got let out was when the cleaning guy —Charlie —came in on Monday morning and I started banging on the locker. He got me out because he was literally my only friend. And I remember him having to hold me as I cried and my whole body was shaking and he took me to the office and sat me down and got me a chocolate bar and a big bottle of water and I remember being so thirsty that I drank it all in less than two minutes. The chocolate bar was gone already.

I remember him looking at me and saying that I wasn’t going to last at the school and I remember that I said that I could. Because I had worked so fucking hard to get there and I’d be damned if some cunts from high school would ruin it for me.

A few months later I was in hospital. The same guys had broken a lot of my ribs and I could barely breathe.” I let out a choked laugh because, for all I tried, it seemed I couldn’t get away from my past. “That was the only reason school had rung the hospital. And my parents finally found out how bad it had gotten and pulled me out. But they didn’t come back to see me. Charlie came to see me. He brought me the same chocolate bar and a bottle of water and I told him that my parents were pulling me out of school and going to get me some tutors instead and I remember the pure relief on his face as I said that. A few days later I got told from my older brother that the cleaner had quit the school.

So don’t tell me that I was a bully. Because I wasn’t. I was the bullied. And I will be damned if some pretentious asshole tells me any different.” You finished, glaring at him, which would have worked had you not had tears streaming down your face. He had a shocked look on his face, and it was silent for a few minutes before a bang was heard and the door came down, making you close your eyes and hold back a laugh. Only Morgan. “FBI, hold your hands in the air!” You snickered at the cliche line and the winced as you moved slightly and Hotch seemed to notice because he glared at our unsub. Morgan walked over to him and tied his hands behind his back.

Spencer,

 Uh, I told you that I would never be able to tell you all the things I love about you when you told me you loved me. But I figured, this is our wedding and your meant to give speeches to each other on your wedding day so here goes nothing:

 Spencer Reid, I love how your hair is always messy when you stumble out of bed in the morning and despite being an FBI agent, you will always bump into the door slightly, I love how you absoloutely cannot wake up until you have had at least three cups of coffee –one before we go to work, one when we’re at work, and one when we’re on the Jet –I love how you just thrive on information, I love how you become so absorbed in the book you’re reading that the whole world fades away and that you and the book are the only thing in the world, I love how every morning you come into the kitchen and kiss me on the side of my forehead and tell me good morning, calling me angel, I love how after harsh cases you lay your head in my lap and take solace in me running my fingers through your hair and singing to you softly, no matter the jibes Morgan makes at you.

 I

love how our daughter looks just like you and acts like me, I love how you gave me everything and still continue giving me everything, I hope I do so for you my love, I love how you will sit our daughter on your lap and help her with her homework even if she doesn’t need it because it helps centres you, I love how you play with our dog and can play catch with him for hours on end without getting tired, I love how you cook for us when we don’t have a case and we all eat meals with each other around the family table, I love how you tell our daughter bed time stories to make sure she feels loved, just like I do.

 I love how you run every weekend with me and Chloe, I love how you cook now to calm down as well as reading, because it helps grounds you, I love how you write so calmly, so precisely, I love how you will tell me odd trivia facts about my favourite shows and books even if I know them, especially if I know them, to make me laugh, I love how you comfort me everytime a favourite character of mine dies (goodness knows, theres been more than enough and there will continue to be more than enough), I love how evry morning when I come through to the kitchen there will be a note with something cute on it on the mug I use to have my tea, I love how you can sleep like there is no tomorrow on the plan but for the life of me cannot sleep in a car, no matter how smooth the roads are, I love how you try and comfort the victims’ families and spouses, I love how protective you get over the victims that are the underdogs because you know how that feels, I love how you get lost in a chess game, even if its against yourself, actually, especially if its against yourself, more so if its against Jason, I love how you ramble, oh god do I love how you ramble, I love how you know all of this information and like to share it because you want everyone to know as much as you do, I love watching you get excited for an upcoming lecture about something, even though you probably know it already, I love how you glare slightly at the board when you’re trying to figure a case out, as if it could simply answer you and its doing you wrong for not doing so, I love how you stare at me with so much wonder when I’m singing, everyday you stare at me with so much wonder but even more so when I’m singing, I love how you mouth the words to the songs I sing along to when I’m going for a run and that after a while you sing them out loud to our daughter even though she falls asleep in the first five minutes of our runs, I love how you know what I need before I say it and you will get it for me when its too high for me to reach, I love  the way the light hits you on the way home as you read –I bet you know where that one came from, but it’s so, so true, you look so at peace when you read – I love how at peace you look when you’re listening to an audio book and how you mouth the words along with who is narrating it, I love how you started reading Harry Potter for me and now it’s one of your favourite books and how you were surprised when you realised that, I love how you now love cats and whenever you can you will pet them, always amazed when they come to you straight away, I love how you try and say you don’t listen to me singing but you do, I love the way your arms feel around me late at night, I love how you always, always smell of coffee and books, something that has never changed, I love how you always complain whenever Benji lays over your lap whenever you’re watching Doctor Who like he did when he was a puppy but you never tell him to get down, I love how you reacted when I first told you we were going to have Chloe and I know I will love how you react when you hear that we’re going to have another child. I. Love. You."

“You wouldn’t understands a mothers love for a child, you aren’t a parent, I bet you don’t even understand love, since you don’t have anyone who loves you.” You clenched your fists a little tighter under the table where the bastard couldn’t see you, and leaned in ever so slightly towards him, ignoring Hotch’s glance at you. “And you do, right?” he had a confused look on his face and you continued on, knowing the only way to get the children out was to break him. And how fun it would be after that comment. “you know all about a mothers love don’t you. I mean, your mother is the stella role model, right? She,” you made a show of glancing down at your report, “had you at sixteen, and gave you to your grandmother whilst she went out and partied every night, getting as drunk and high as she could –which, oh!” you let your voice carry a little higher, “led to her getting an addiction in both and your grandmother kicking you both out because neither of you were worth the time or place. So your mother married a guy who was a contract killer –again I have to say, Stella Role model right there folks –and continued to do so. Only this time, you were old enough to understand what was going on and you didn’t like it.

 You had to watch as your mother brought guy after guy home and forced you to watch as they slept with her and got her high and then she forced you to watch as your step father –since, you know, your father decided you weren’t worth it and fucked off as soon as possible –killed them. And this is where your hatred of women came into play. I can see why, but have you ever taken a moment to realise that maybe just maybe they did that because they hate you too?” hook, line, sinker. For someone who had evaded police for sixteen years and had killed 45 women, he wasn’t  strong. “but hey, keep the children by all means,” you didn’t miss the confused look on his face, “they’d just be more women who grow up to hate you.” You finished and leant back. you literally saw him snap and he tried to get up out the chair, screaming and you just continued on calmly. You had seen worse than this bastard and you weren’t going to let him get to you. Your words had however. He screamed and screamed some more before slumping down into his chair. You raised an eyebrow at him, “Finished?” he glared and then muttered the place they were at and you walked out with Hotch and determinedly kept your face to the front.

 You had saved them. You had saved all four children. You looked round at the rest of the team. Morgan was swiping through his phone (no doubt looking at pictures of Hank to anchor him, since it was something he did after a case with children now.), JJ was sleeping, her head against the window and a shaul wrapped around her that Henry had gotten her for mother’s day (you thought that you might like that story the best out of them all, just for the simplicity and beauty of it), Hotch was on the phone to Jess and then smiled a rare smile and you knew he was talking to Jack, Rossi was reading something (probably one of his daughter’s articles. You couldn’t blame him, they were amazing.), Tara was listening to music and reading and occasionally taking a sip from her hot chocolate, and Spencer was… Spencer was looking at you? It made you shoot him a small smile and he shot one back, and discreetly gestured to the coffee vending machine, a rare place of solace for the both of you. You got up and noticed Morgan looked at you for a few seconds before going back to Hank. You leant against one of the walls and let out a content hum at how cool it was and slid down onto the floor.Not a minute later, Spencer was next to you. You could tell from the scent of coffee and books. You let your head fall onto his shoulder and smiled faintly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “he was wrong.” It was quiet but you just nodded, and hummed. “I mean it, he was wrong.”

“of course he was.” You let your tone of voice show him just how much little you believed him. He retracted his arm and you opened your eyes and turned to him, surprised to see him frowning. “what?” you said confused. “you honestly don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question it was a statement, but you still felt compelled to nod and you let out a bitter laugh, noting that  it was eerily silent behind you where the others sat but you didn’t care at the moment. “of course not. I know what he said was true, Spence. I don’t know the feeling of a mother’s love –both because I’m not a mother and because my mother didn’t love me –and I don’t know how it is to be loved.” He frowned even more and you raised an eyebrow, as if you were daring him to prove you wrong. He took it. “There are plenty of people out there who love you.” You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, like who?” you could see him do the thing he did when he built up to something but he didn’t give himself the time, he did it instantly. “like me.” Yet you hadn’t expected him to say it like that. He continued on before you could say anything (you know, like telling him that you bloody fell in love with him and had been in love with him for about 8 bloody years now), “I love the way the light hits you when you read on the way back home from a case, I love how its always a book from Harry Potter that you read on the way back from a dark case because you say it’s like Albus Dumbledore says, I love how you don’t care if we’re on a case that if you see a dog, you have to pet it, I love how you comfort the children we save and how, when you think that no one is listening you sing to them if they want you to or read to them –Harry Potter again –if they’d prefer that

 I love how you say you prefer tea to coffee but when we get an early case you will come in and get a large cup of coffee to wake you up because you say the foul taste of it jolts you awake, I love how your brows furrow when you try to figure something out, I love how you let me come to your singing shows and how much passion you put into them, I love how you have so many different things in your flat but somehow, somehow they all look in place and look so you, I love that you always put your headphones in when you go for a run and sing along softly, and that no one, no one, knows that but me, I love how you have to stand on your tip toes to get something from a few of the shelves in the office and that instead of just asking the nearest person to you you come and get me so I can get it and its only me you get because ‘otherwise it wouldn’t feel right’” he was talking faster, and oh god, you loved it when he did that. And you loved him and you wanted to tell him but he looked like he was going to burst and you could tell that your team was watching and you knew he knew and he knew you knew but you didn’t care and oh god, please, please, let him finish.

 and I love how you learnt chess for me, I love how you actually listen to me when I ramble and actually are intrested, I love how you read the books I say I like because you once said that you could learn about someone from the books they like, I love how you once took my coffee the way I did for a week because I was down and you didn’t want me to feel alone even though you despised it, I love how I randomly wake up to texts from you with odd trivia facts about your favourite shows and books, I love how you’ll call me up when your favourite character dies and you won’t be able to sleep until I calm you down for it, I love how you cant sleep on the plane because you claim it’s too uncomfy but you can sleep in a car no matter how many bumps there is, especially when Morgan is driving, I love how patient you are with our victim’s parents, sisters and brothers, I love how protective you get over our victims, and I. love. You.” And how could you say how much you loved him, how could you tell him like he did. You couldn’t. but you would be damned if you didn’t try, especially with the vulnerable look on his face. You walked right up to him and watched as his eyes closed –probably expecting the worst, and thinking you were going to hit him or something –and kissed him, trying to make him feel how much you love him.