#cm:ff

[danyka-fendyr]

Birthday Boy

Okay, so as some of you may have noticed I changed my username. I wanted to change it just a little bit because I was getting paranoid about people I know irl finding it so I just added a number fjewpaolfje. The masterlist and such will be updated accordingly. So anyway, IT’S MY BABY BOI’S BIRTHDAYYYYYYY. Naturally, I have to celebrate this with a birthday oneshot for the one, the only, Spencer Reid. Because in case you hadn’t noticed, I LOVE HIM. Just a short little idea I had, really. So without further ado, I give my time to the man of the hour.

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli

Word Count: 1181

Warnings: None. This is all fluff baby!

Spencer Reid was many things. Hero, friend, lover, birthday boy. 

Spencer was never one for being the center of attention, but you knew all the reasons for that. You knew him like the back of your hand. You knew that most of the reason he didn’t like to be the center of attention was that it usually meant he was the center of a circle of people mocking him. What he did like, however, was having his achievements recognized. It was no small wonder he had accomplished so much. He didn’t so much like attention as he did praise. And if there was anything you were good at, it was praising Spencer Reid. Not that he made it hard.

So this year, for his birthday, you had an idea. You coordinated with the rest of the team for this one, wanting it to be as special as possible. The second you told Penelope about it she had started screaming, and you basically had to threaten her life to get her to keep the secret. Penelope was not the best secret keeper, but for this? For this, she swore to be Fort Knox. It helped that you intentionally told her very last minute, knowing she would be great at this anyway. It was basically her specialty.

You got Hotch to keep Spencer busy just long enough so that you could set everything up. There was cake, of course, but also a few of Spencer’s other favorite trees, and several coffee themed sweets. It was the decorations that had been the hard part.

You had pulled out all the stops for this. The hardest part, in truth, had been keeping it a secret from Spencer. You had to hide everything at JJ’s house, where the kids kept Spence too busy for him to be suspicious or to go looking for hidden party supplies. As far as he knew, you two were just having a nice, peaceful dinner tonight, and then on Saturday you were all having “family” dinner at Rossi’s. It was the perfect lie.

Finally, it was done, with time to spare. You paced in the meantime, waiting for everyone to get there. You were so nervous. What if he knew? Oh gosh, what if he had known this whole time. What if Penelope accidentally told him or gave it away with her behavior. You were dating a profiler, after all. There were so many things that could go wrong, you didn’t even want to think about all of it. Luckily, Derek Morgan swooped in to save you from thinking about it too hard. 

“Hey little mama, you ready to party?” He greeted you as you opened the door for him. 

“Freaking out a little bit, but you know. No more than is to be expected. Savannah, how are you?”

“I am very good, thank you for asking.” She smiled, reaching out to hug you.

“Alright, enough of this lingering in my doorway everybody, let’s come inside.”

Before you knew it, everyone was in your humble apartment. That is, everyone except for the one person you were waiting for.

“Alright everybody, take your positions. Spencer can’t suspect anything, okay? I swear if any of you spilled the beans-”

“We know, we know,” Emily said. “you’ll gut us.”

“Worse,” you grumbled darkly.

The whole team knew they were just empty threats.

You had all just barely scrambled into place before you heard Spencer’s key in the lock. He had a key to your apartment ever since that time you got a horrible flu and he came over to take care of you. He had always been so good to you. You couldn’t help getting a little sentimental, especially today.

When he opened the door, everybody jumped out from their various hiding places, and there was a chorus of, “Surprise!”

If Spencer had known the whole time, he was doing a shockingly convincing imitation of surprise. 

“What the- You guys!” 

You snorted, noticing how he had to move his hand from where he had involuntarily grasped for his firearm.

“Happy birthday my love.” You headed over to him, giving him a long, slow kiss before taking his hand. “Come on. I still have to show you the best part.”

“There’s a part better than that cake over there?” Spencer said, peering into the kitchen. “Are those the chocolates I like?”

“Yes. Still not the best part.”

“Then what is-” He stopped when you stopped, tugging him to the back wall of your apartment which had a stylish new wallpaper.

It was compliments. Hundreds of them, written on sticky notes and plastered to your wall. All of them in the handwriting of either yourself or the team, but you definitely had the most entries.

“Spencer, I love the way your hair looks in the morning.”

“Spence, you’re such a good godfather.”

“My love, you tell the best stories, and I love learning new things from you every day.”

“Nobody is as smart as you, brother.”

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, darling.”

“Boy wonder, you could light up the whole world with that smile of yours.”

“Your jokes are always funny, babe. I don’t care what the rest of the team says.”

“I am proud to say that I work alongside you.”

“You make the best pancakes. Ever. Ever ever ever. Definitely not the reason I’m dating you though. No way.”

“Kid, you’re a real talent. Keep up the good work.”

“I love you. So much.”

Slowly, you could see the tears falling from Spencer’s face. He didn’t make a sound, but they still carved their way down.

“Oh, baby,” you said. “I’m sorry. Was this a bad idea? I didn’t mean to-”

“I love it,” he choked out.

“You do?”

He nodded, pulling you into his arms deathly tight. “This is the best birthday ever.”

“I have one more surprise for you, baby.”

“I’m not sure I can handle another surprise.” He laughed a little bit.

“You’ll like this one. Diana, you can come out now.”

Spencer’s Mom came out of the master bedroom, your bedroom, a smile on her face. “Surprise!”

Spencer broke down. He was smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile, tears rolling down his face. “I-you-”

His Mom stepped forward, giving him a hug. 

Eventually, Spencer was able to stop crying, and the party went into full swing. There was laughter in place of the tears, and you got to see the smile you loved so much many, many times. You could tell that Spencer loved it, which made it perfect for you. That was all you had wanted. For him to love it. For him to be happy.

Later that night, Spencer got to give you a more personal thank you once all of your party guests were gone, which involved his mouth on yours and a lot of very sweet nothings.

“Thank you so much. This was perfect. This was everything I could have ever wanted out of a surprise party.”

You smiled as he kissed you again.

“Happy birthday Spence.”

#happy birthday to the world's oldest baby boi #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds:ff #cm #cm:ff #matthew gray gubler #mgg #technically i'm 40 minutes late for his birthday in this timezone #but nobody cares #and no i did not edit don't judge me

[danyka-fendyr]

Don’t Call Me Pumpkin

Hey everyone! So, I’m determined to put out my promised 3 Spencer Reid Halloween fics, but also I’m a lazy hoe. Which brings us to where we are now. Me, watching The Haunting of Hill House, writing a Spencer Reid Halloween fic that takes place on a pumpkin farm. Because I desperately want to go to a pumpkin farm even though there is not one even anywhere remotely near me because I live in one of the sunniest places in the world now and pumpkins would DIE here. This has not been edited. Fight me.

Wordcount: 1681

Permanent Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli

Warnings: None. All fluff. A little bit of innuendo.

“Spence, seriously, where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere fun,” he promised.

“C’mon. At least give me a vague statistic for a hint baby.” 

You fussed with the blindfold Spencer had reluctantly put on you. He hadn’t wanted to, but you had been more than up for it since you loved a good surprise. Spencer rarely surprised you, so you knew the surprise factor had to be important to him. Hence one of his purple ties currently being on your face.

“Okay.�� You could hear him blushing from being called baby. “Over 800 million of what we’re going to see are currently available in the U.S.”

“Oh my gosh you’re taking me to a strip club?”

“No!” Spencer frantically objected.

You laughed. “I was kidding, Spence. I know that’s not your thing. You prefer blindfolds, right?”

You wiggled your partially obscured eyebrows.

“Sweetheart,” he whined.

“Hey, you know there’s no judgment from me. I hate handcuffs, so we’re even. But seriously, are we almost there?” 

“Yeah, we are. Just a couple more minutes.”

You could hear gravel crunching under the wheels of the car, and you were forced to wonder once again where you were. Knowing your boyfriend, he could have taken you anywhere. He was almost never spontaneous, which only served to make his spontaneity more so. After a few moments, you felt the car come to a stop, and you couldn’t contain your grin.

“Are we here?”

“Your use of the present tense on the word here would indicate that you already know we are, in fact, here.”

“You’re right, I do. Now get me out of this car so we can do a dramatic blindfold removal!”

Spencer laughed before coming over to your side of the car and opening the door for you, taking your hand and helping you out. He placed his hands on your shoulders, steering you forward towards wherever he planned on taking off this blindfold, while you didn’t even bother trying to contain your smile. It smelled like dirt, and you had a few theories as to where you might be.

“Okay, are you ready?” He asked.

“No. There’s one more thing I want to do before you take off the blindfold. Can you turn me around?”

Confused, Spencer did as you asked, and you carefully placed your hands on his face so you had an idea of where you were going before you leaned forward and kissed him. Tasted like coffee and cinnamon, just like he always did. You could do this all day, but you had a surprise to get to, so you pulled back.

“What was that for?”

“So I could see if I liked it.” You shrugged.

“...Well? Did you?” He asked.

“Baby, I always like kissing you. Now let’s do this thing.”

“Okay pumpkin,” he said.

Every fiber in your body stiffened as it hit you. Spencer never called you pumpkin. You had to drive a while, certainly long enough to get out of the city. It smelled like fresh dirt.

At the same moment he removed the blindfold, you yelled, “Babe! Don’t call me pumpkin!”

You pouted, glaring over your shoulder at his handsome, handsome face.

“I waited until we were here!” He justified.

“Still ruined the whole surprise.” You sighed, staring out at the vast fields of pumpkins before you.

“Is it ruined if I say we can pick out any pumpkin you want?”

You gasped, suddenly giddy. “Can we get multiple pumpkins?”

“Whatever you want, love.”

“I love you!” You threw your arms around him, letting him catch you.

He laughed, setting you down again after a moment. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You two made your way through the pumpkin patches, and you both inspected every pumpkin that came your way. You had gone pumpkin hunting with Spencer before, so you knew how this worked. He was looking for a pumpkin that matched certain characteristics he had in mind, the most halloweeny pumpkin, the pumpkin to rule over all other pumpkins if you will. You, on the other hand, were looking for something a little bit less exact. You were on the hunt for your pumpkin.

You never knew what it was going to look like, but every year, you went in search of the pumpkin that was right for you. It called to you, in all of its sweet orange glory, a bright beacon in the midst of all of these other pedestrian pumpkins. It was somewhere in this field, waiting for you to find it. Your pumpkin soulmate, if you will, ready to be taken home with your more human soulmate.

“Do you see anything?” Spencer asked you.

Some years, you found your pumpkin in the first sweep of the fields. You would see it and you would just immediately know. Last year had been one of those years, and Spencer had come to dread them since they meant him wandering a pumpkin patch with a very heavy pumpkin in his arms that you insisted was your baby and that no one else could have. This year was not to be one of those years though.

“No. Not yet. Which is kind of a bummer since I was hoping to check you out. I didn’t get to stare at you in the car like I usually do. My day feels incomplete without a chance to drool over you. I’ve been deprived.”

Spencer blushed. He was so easily flustered. It was one of the things you had loved about him, even before you started dating. The cute little way his ears would turn red and he would stare down at his feet, fix his tie. Today he wasn’t wearing a tie though, instead, just a sweater that you knew was very, very soft from all the times you had stolen it from him. 

“C’mon silly. Let’s go look for your elusive pumpkin.”

“You’re deflecting Dr. Reid,” you sing-songed.

“I am not deflecting, I am prioritizing. Can you think of anything more important than pumpkins right now?”

“You.”

An easy answer, and it made him blush again. It was going to be a great day.

It was set to be a great day regardless though. The sky was the perfect shade of cloudless, washed-out blue, almost gray, and the air was perfectly crisp. The dirt in the pumpkin patch was exactly the right consistency between dry and muddy, and overall, conditions seemed to be perfect. Plus Spencer knew how cold you got and made sure you had dressed appropriately.

You two wandered through the pumpkin fields for hours. It took Spencer a long time to find his pumpkin. He was pretty hardcore about exactly how long the vine had to be. You put him to shame though.

“Seriously love? Nothing yet?” Spencer said around a rather rotund pumpkin.

“No. But we’re close. I can feel it.” 

You had been saying this for the past three hours since you had arrived.

“All I’m saying is, maybe we could take a break. I could take this guy back to the car, we could buy some apple cider...I hear it’s really good here.”

Your boyfriend’s persuasion meant nothing to you though, as you stopped dead in your tracks.

“That’s it.”

“What, the apple cider?”

“No, Spence, that’s it!” You said excitedly, pointing at one of the many orange gourds in the patch. “That’s the one!”

“Oh thank goodness,” Spencer huffed, adjusting the pumpkin already in his arms.

You beamed proudly at a rather large pumpkin. You might not be able to carry it, actually. You should have gotten a wheelbarrow, but you hadn’t exactly thought this through. It was incredibly round, but not too round, not quite preternaturally so. It’s vine was cut quite close, which you weren’t generally fond of, but you liked on this particular pumpkin. It looked a little dinged up, but you didn’t mind. It was the one.

“What are you going to name it?” Then, before you could answer. “Might I suggest Curbit?”

“Spence, my darling, I love you more than life itself, but that name sounds like Kermit the frog if he was a traffic cop.”

“It’s a shortening of Cucurbita Pepo, the technical name for pumpkin,” Spencer said, sounding slightly offended by your description of his name.

“Tell you what, next year I’ll name my pumpkin Curbit and you can name yours Pep, but this guy? This guy is a Gourdy.”

“Gourdy? You sure?”

“Yep. Positive.”

“Okay.” Spencer grinned at you over the top of his pumpkin.

“Now I just have to survive carrying him out of here.”

It wasn’t easy carrying Gourdy out of the pumpkin patch. It involved a lot of huffing and puffing from both of you since Spencer was still carrying his own pumpkin which he had named Peter. Eventually, though, you made it out and got yourself a wheelbarrow so that you could continue browsing your selection of gourds.

You and Spencer bought several different various other gourds, less picky in your pursuit of these. They would probably just end up eaten at the end of the day, so looks mattered less than potential taste. When you were finished though, you were more than satisfied with your selection.

“So, did you have fun today?” Spencer asked, wheeling your purchases back to the car.

“Um, heck yeah!”

“Good. I was hoping that would be a good surprise.” He smiled at you.

“It definitely was.” You picked up your pumpkin, setting it securely in the back of Spencer’s car before sticking your hand securely in Spencer’s back pocket. You absolutely adored the surprised look that crossed his face before fading into a very smug smirk. He leaned forward to kiss you, pulling you closer with one hand while the other tangled into your hair.

“Hey,” he said. “You know what I think we should do when we get home?”

You grinned, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. “Pumpkin carving?”

Spencer shook his head, laughing at you before detaching himself and putting his own pumpkin in the back of the car. “Yeah, pumpkin. That’s exactly what I think we should do.”

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds:ff #cm:ff #matthew gray gubler #mgg

[danyka-fendyr]

Unknown Subject

Yes this one is named after an episode of Criminal Minds. Sue me. (Please don’t though CBS you would not have much of a case but I don’t have the money for it even if you tried). Anway, this was a request from the lovely @lettersofwrittencollective and should I be writing other things? Yes. But hey! I got inspired, okay?

Summary: Spencer finds himself falling for the mind of an unsub as the team tries to navigate their way through a tricky series of puzzles, but...are things what they seem?

Warnings: Generally disturbing themes of violent death. The usual Criminal Minds murder stuff. Also, I’m giving the reader a brother, so if you don’t have one...just pretend you do. Y/B/N is Your Brother’s Name. Also, the reader is in their mid-twenties for plot purposes.

Wordcount: I could have counted the words in this fic but instead I got distracted staring at Spencer Reid’s beautiful hair. Like...who is his stylist? I need to know for science and also because I’m considering a haircut.

“Well this is interesting,” Rossi grumbled, examining the body lying cold on the table.

“The kill was fairly efficient, but inexperienced as you can see,” the ME said. “The victim was poisoned, but judging by the blood samples we have, it was clumsier than intended. We’re guessing this was a first kill, since no experienced poisoner would use a mix like this.”

“So the swelling on the face and the purple coloring are a result of that?” Spencer leaned in closer.

“That would be exactly right. The victim actually asphyxiated from other problems caused by these chemicals before the poison could reach his heart. It should also be noted that it doesn’t take much to get these ingredients. Most of them can be found commonly around the house. Take bleach, for example.”

“How did the unsub force the victims to take poison like that? It can’t have been administered orally,” Rossi said.

The ME shook her head. “It wasn’t. Interestingly, it seems the unsub injected it through the victim’s nose, like one might with a nasal clearing device, the kind you would normally put saltwater in. It would appear that the victim’s mouth was taped shut, and if the killer plugged their nostrils, they would have had no choice but to swallow.”

“It would have been a reflex,” Rossi said.

“Exactly. We can see this in the chemical burning in the nostrils as well as the mouth. Additionally, it appears the victims were all lured from well-populated places, then drugged and taken somewhere more remote.”

“What could convince these men to follow someone out of a party though?”

Reid was leaning in closer to the body. He spoke into the brief silence. “What is that? In the throat there?”

The ME reached for her tools, fishing in the victim’s throat until she found...a note.

“Something borrowed and something blue

Only he can save me from you

Where men fall to their knees and wind chimes don’t sing

When you are ready, give me a ring.”

Rossi recited the poem aloud.

“Well call me crazy, but it sounds like this unsub wants to get married,” Jennifer said.

“Yes, but look at this,” Reid said, pointing to the second verse. “‘Only he can save me from you’. What does that mean? It almost sounds like it was written from the perspective of the victim...But then who is he?”

“Maybe the unsub imagines all of these men to be unworthy suitors. I think, given the victimology and this message, we can safely conclude that this unsub is a woman. We know that she’s kidnapped multiple men all with roughly the same physical appearance between the ages of 20-30, and we know that the kills have been clean and efficient with no signs of sexual sadism or torture. Maybe ‘he’ is the one true love who will save her from all of these other ‘lesser’ men,” Hotch suggested.

“Maybe, but something about it doesn’t quite add up. If we know she’s holding multiple men hostage, then why the specific usage of ‘you’? Why send this message to us, the FBI, to find? In fact, if it’s meant for some white knight, why leave it with the body at all? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah. What about this line with the wind chimes here? What does that mean?” Morgan pointed it out on the board where Reid had copied the message over.

“It would appear to be a clue to the unsub’s location,” Rossi said.

“This lady has got to get better at her clues,” Garcia said from where she was on speakerphone.

“Garcia, can you look up levels of low wind activity in the city and neighboring towns? This unsub has a pretty clear comfort zone, so this might narrow it down some, assuming that ‘where wind chimes don’t sing’ is a specific reference to geographical location.” Reid spoke.

The sheriff of the town poked his head in. “There’s been another body found.”

“Well, our unsub is definitely getting bolder,” Morgan observed.

This body had been left out in a park, in contrast to the carefully hidden body that had washed up on the riverbank before.

“Check for a message in the throat,” Reid suggested.

Sure enough, there was another one.

“I hope that you can understand

Know that this was not my hand

All the cards are on the table, but who signed the deed

Can you solve the riddle, Dr. Reid?”

“Oh that ain’t good,” Morgan said.

“So it’s a riddle for Reid?” Hotch questioned.

“It would certainly seem that way,” Morgan said.

“Listen to this, ‘know that this was not my hand’. That almost sounds like the unsub is saying she didn’t do it.”

“Well it seems pretty clear to me that she uh..did,” JJ pointed out. “Y’know, seeing as she’s leaving notes in corpses. Plus, look at the line about all the cards being on the table. Maybe she’s saying it wasn’t her hand of cards.”

“Even if you’re right, though, that still implies a claim of innocence. Like the unsub is deflecting blame,” Rossi said.

Reid set down his coffee cup on a map, and Blake moved it so that it wouldn’t leave a stain.

“I just got the toxicology report from the lab. It looks like the same chemicals as before were used, just a more refined combo. You guys...I think we need to look at the very real possibility that we might be dealing with a younger unsub here. Maybe even a minor. If you combine the fact that her victims are mostly in their early to mid-twenties with what we know about her poison of choice...these are all common household cleaners. Something you could snag while your Mom wasn’t looking.”

Reid shook his head. “The text doesn’t match up with that theory though. Both notes are written from an almost poetic standpoint as if whoever wrote them comes from an educated background. Someone with this kind of literary prowess would have to either be very well-read or much older than you’re suggesting, likely both. Look at the rhyming patterns and the choice of words. This kind of messaging system, this kind of crime is simply too organized for a teenaged girl to pull off.”

“Wait...you guys.” JJ stood, crossing to the board that still had the first message sprawled across it for comparison. “Remember who we couldn’t figure out who ‘you’ could be? What if we’re dealing with multiple unsubs here?”

Rossi’s eyes lit up with understanding. “And one of them wants out.”

“Likely the submissive one,” Hotch said, latching onto the theory. “If we assume that the line about this not being her hand is a claim of innocence than it’s entirely possible that the dominant one roped her into this against her will somehow. It could be that the submissive one is the one luring these men away from the clubs and bars most of them disappeared from and drugged them, but it’s the dominant one doing all the killing.”

Spencer stood from the table, crossing to the board. “But by that logic, we’re assuming the older party is the submissive one, which almost never happens.”

“The unsub could have leverage against her,” JJ suggested. “Garcia, look up all missing men that fit the age parameters and type of this unsub, and then check to see if they have sisters, mothers or even aunts that have also gone missing recently.”

“On it!”

It wasn’t long before Garcia had an answer for them, with a search that specific.

“Bingo! Your hunch was right, my clever crime-solving friends. Y/B/N and Y/N Y/L/N both went missing when they went on a road trip together two weeks ago.”

“That’s right when the kidnappings started. Garcia, is it possible that Y/B/N was the dominant unsub’s first victim?” Reid asked.

“Oh, definitely little Einstein, but not for the reason you’re thinking. It was actually the sister who filed complaints of a stalker with local police. They assumed that the stalker nabbed the two and that at this point, they were probably long dead.”

“Was a suspect ever identified for the stalker?” Morgan asked.

“You know there was, lover. And you’re never going to believe this, but the suspect was, in fact, a teenage girl. Joanna Bridges, 18 years old, still in her senior year of high school. Apparently, Y/N was something of a friend to the girl. Reportedly Joanna was a bit of a loner, and Y/N, a senior, took pity on her lower classman. That all changed though when she went off to college. 

“Joanna brought a whole new meaning to separation anxiety and things got real nasty real fast. As one would suspect, fights ensued, the friendship fell apart, and then for the next four years our dear Y/N thought no more about it. Flash forward, she’s coming home, and Joanna is finishing up her senior year of high school, but she is less over it. She starts showing up at Y/N’s house making all kinds of unwanted advances, but after being rejected several times, she turned to more subtle methods, including but not limited to lurking in the background, leaving anonymous gifts, and just generally being creepy. Unfortunately, the police could never find concrete evidence, which brings us to the present. And before you ask, yes, I have addresses for both parties, and I am sending them to your cells now.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan said.

“You can thank me when you get home,” Garcia purred.

“Reid, you and JJ go to the Y/L/N house. Rossi and Morgan can go to the Bridges residence, and Blake and I will stay here and see what more we can find out about the wind chime clue.”

“Okay,” JJ said, coming back from interviewing the parents. “Apparently, like most teenage girls, Y/N pretty much lived in her room. Everything we could possibly need to know about her life before she went off to college is going to be here. If this is all really about her, then maybe we can find some clues here.”

“I mean, that much is obvious. Look at this room. It’s lived in,” Reid said, tracing a finger over a picture frame on the desk. “There’s dust here, but not much, indicating that the room was cleaned at about the normal intervals for the girl she would have been at the time.”

“Okay, Y/N, where did you hide your secrets? A diary?” JJ checked the bookshelf and then classic hiding places for a diary. “Nope. Doesn’t look like she’s kept a diary in years. Not since before middle school, even. That’s weird. Reid, if you were a teenage girl, where would you keep a diary?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t keep one. It’s like asking someone to read your thoughts. The concept always seemed incredibly invasive to me. The only journals I kept were scientific. I’d much rather have people read my work, personally.”

“Wait, Reid, that’s it. If Y/N was like most teenage girls, she would have been intensely private. But you said that her writing was advanced. Not just the work of someone who well educated, but someone who was a literary enthusiast. What if, instead of keeping a diary, she wrote poetry about her life? That way, if anyone asked, she could just dismiss it as a story.”

“Her writing does indicate experience. That was part of why I thought it couldn’t be a younger unsub. It’s too well established, too firm in its identity and style. It would make sense if Y/N is as clever as we think she is. With her poetry, she would have been hiding in plain sight, just like she was when she left us those notes.”

Sure enough, after further going through the girl’s room, they found notebooks filled with poetry. Upon first glance, they could have been mistaken for school notebooks, classic yellow and black spiral bounds, but their contents read very different.

“Look at this, Spence.” JJ ushered him closer from where he stood reading across the room reading at a much faster pace than she could. “This one talks about someone in her life who tried to hold her back. Someone who couldn’t grow up and was mad at her for trying to. That sound like anyone we know?”

“Here, let me see that.” He flipped through the notebook in a matter of seconds. “From the sounds of it, there was some serious emotional manipulation happening her. Joanna guilt-tripped her hard and made some serious attempts at gaslighting. If she had been a little older and more experienced, she might have met with more success, but her attempts were too clumsy for Y/N not to identify them as what they were eventually. She wanted to believe the best, but Joanna aggressively drove her away. ironically in an attempt to keep her close.”

“Well Joanna is older now, and probably has enough experience to be a master manipulator if she started that young.”

“We have to tell the others, see if they found anything,” Reid said, dialing Morgan’s cell and explaining what they had found.

“Yeah, that’s pretty consistent with what we’re seeing here,” Morgan said. “This girl could write the textbook on emotional manipulation, from the way her family tells it. Not that they knew what was happening. They were just as under her spell.”

“Wait, Morgan...do you think the kidnappings could be to try to manipulate Y/N into killing with her?”

“Could be,” Morgan said. “I mean, think about it. It would be the ultimate sign of dedication. I would die for you, but would you kill for me? Just do this one thing and everything will be forgiven.”

“The only problem is, Y/N doesn’t want to be forgiven. She’s smart enough to know that she’s not the one in the wrong here.”

“It’s only a matter of time though before eventually, Joanna convinces her otherwise and she breaks though.”

“Well let's hope we get there first,” Spencer said before hanging up.

While he and Morgan had been talking, JJ had been wandering the house, investigating. “Spence, come take a look at this!”

He headed out onto the back porch where JJ was, only to find dozens of wind chimes. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N, where did all of these wind chimes come from?” JJ asked.

“Oh, they were gifts. Most of them were from that sick, twisted stalker who kept sending her all the anonymous messages.”

“Were any from Joanna?” Reid asked.

“As a matter of fact, one was. She used to make them, and she made one for Y/N before they grew apart.”

“Which one of these is it?” JJ asked.

“Oh, it’s not any of these. It hangs inside, in the kitchen window. The glass it’s made out of was stained by hand, and it will fade if left out in the weather. Most of these are the same, but Y/N never cared if any of these got damaged. I think the only reason the first one is still in the kitchen is because it reminds her of a better time.”

“Ma’am, you said these were made by hand?” JJ said.

“Why yes, I believe so. Joanna’s family had some land by the water, I think, and they used to melt down the sand into glass. Very crafty, they all were.”

JJ whipped out her cell to call Garcia. 

“Your resident Bill Gates impersonator in the house, what can I do for you darling?”

“Garcia, can you tell me if Joanna and her family had any kind of craft business having to do with glass? Wind chimes, maybe?”

“One moment, please....Yes, as a matter of fact, they did. The Bridges own a little arts and crafts store famous for their beautiful wind chimes made from sand gathered from a plot of land they own near the water here and all-natural dyes. Unfortunately, these little beauties have to be kept indoors to stay at peak condition, meaning that they will never make any cheerful tinkling noises.”

“That sounds remote enough to be a holding location. Garcia, can you give me an address on that beach house?” 

“Sending it your way now sugar plum. PG out!”

The team raced for the house, and Spencer couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Something told him this girl wasn’t a bad person. Well, actually, she had told him that. Specifically him, which was odd. How had she decided that he would be the one who could save her, and how had she even heard about him?

When the team made it into the house, they found Y/N held at gunpoint by a hysterical Joanna. The missing men must have been held somewhere else, but one that resembled Y/N lay on the floor unconscious.

“Joanna Bridges, FBI! Put the gun down,” JJ said.

“No!” Joanna screamed. “She doesn’t understand. I did this all for you. I never cared about him.” She gestured with the gun towards Y/B/N. “It was only ever you. I brought all of these men here to show you. They could never love you like I do. Don’t you understand?”

Spencer locked eyes with her. She was terrified, not that much younger than him. For a second, they seemed to click, and the look in her eyes changed.

“I understand, Joanna.” She reached out even though she looked like she might puke. “I understand now. You don’t have to do this anymore. It’s over.”

Joanna shook her head frantically. “Not until you kill one of them. You have to prove...you have to prove it.”

“Prove what, Joanna?” Spencer asked. “Prove that she loves you? She’s already proved that. She kept all the wind chimes you sent her. She wrote about you, in her poems. She loves you, I know she does. Don’t you, Y/N?”

You nodded frantically. “I do. I do, so just put down the gun JoJo.”

“You love me?” Joanna softened.

“Of course. Of course I do. So you see, you didn’t have to do this after all.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?” You asked, confused.

“Say that you love me.”

You swallowed, fighting the sick feeling in your stomach. “I love you.”

The second Joanna dropped her guard, JJ was on her, and you collapsed. You fell to your knees, but it wasn’t long before Spencer had an arm wrapped around you.

“It’s alright. It’s okay. Your clues lead us here. You were so brave and so clever,” he muttered.

“I thought,” you said, your breaths coming in shuddering gasps, “I thought if they would just call in the FBI...I read about you. I knew you could save me if I just left the breadcrumbs.”

“You did great Y/N. You did great.”

“She said, she said if I didn’t do what she said she would kill my brother,” you cried.

“It’s all going to be okay.”

A couple months later, you and Spencer were meeting for coffee. In the process of studying you and your...somewhat unique case, you two had become friends. A little more than that, actually. It was safe to say that you had a crush on him, but you had no idea if the genius reciprocated. If you had to take a guess, probably not.

“Hey uh...sorry I’m late. Paperwork.” He fiddled with the straps of his bag, an undeniable smile tugging at his lips.

“You don’t seem nearly put out enough to have been doing paperwork. Are you lying to me, Dr. Reid?” You teased.

He made a face. You had taken to calling him Spencer or Spence, and only called him Dr. Reid when you were teasing him or flirting with him. Not that he noticed the latter.

“You know I would never lie to you. Besides, I’m a terrible liar.”

You laughed. “Now that I know is a lie. You forget I’ve seen you in action. Put you in the same room as a murderer and you are one smooth criminal, Spence. Pun intended.”

He shook his head, but laughed anyway, sitting down across from you.

“Took the liberty of getting you a coffee. It’s only half full though to leave room for the sugar.”

“Actually, sugar is highly soluble-”

“I know, Spence. I was joking again.”

“Oh...Right.” 

He looked bashful, so you took pity on him, reaching out for one of his hands. It was your turn to be shy though when he intertwined your fingers. You blushed, finding it difficult to make eye contact.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I can not do that if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You took his hand back, pointedly intertwining the fingers despite your continued shyness. “No. It’s okay. I like this.”

“Yeah? That’s good because I like you.” 

He blurted it out without thinking like it was one of his facts and he just couldn’t stop himself from saying it, consequences be damned. You could tell by the surprised look on his face that he hadn’t been planning on saying that.

“That’s a relief. I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way.” Your confidence bolstered by his confession, you leaned a little closer. “I like you too, Dr. Reid.”

His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Are you sure? Because you only call me Dr. when you’re teasing me.”

“For a genius, you can be really dumb sometimes, you know that? I don’t just call you Dr. when I’m teasing you. I call you Dr. when I’m flirting with you. Like I am right now.” 

You had leaned in closer so that your lips were inches apart now. 

“I’m all out of witty things to say now,” you breathed. “Your turn Spence.”

Spencer opted for action instead, kissing you gently.

“Mmm, you should do paperwork more often. I like what happens afterward.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds:ff #cm:ff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencerreidxreader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #mgg #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler oneshot #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg oneshot #mgg imagine #request #i had so much fun writing this one #i felt like i was directing my very own episode of criminal minds #watch out mgg #i'm coming for your second job

[danyka-fendyr]

Closer

Okay so I’m still working on a good idea for the Spencer Reid sick!fic but in the meantime, I thought I’d get this out. It’s...pretty much exactly what the title makes it sound like. Reader and Spencer find all the ways they can possibly casually touch each other without actually admitting they feel anything. Why? Because I think it’s cute. 

Warnings: Mentions of death and drug use. If you hate kids either don’t read on or pretend you like kids I’m taking some creative liberty with the concept of a reader insert because I don’t actually like this format and I’m only writing this way bc I’ve never seen a oneshot with an oc before lol 

Wordcount: 2348

The worst part of a case would always be the briefings. You hated the briefings because it meant that inevitably, there would be dead people. Dead people you hadn’t saved, dead people you hadn’t even known about. Who had died wishing someone would come to save them, wishing you would come to save them, and you hadn’t delivered.

This case was particularly hard because it involved kids. You had a major soft spot for kids, and any case involving them was hard on you, but this one... Gosh, it was so messed up. Penelope was having difficulty presenting without crying, it was that bad. Eventually, Derek took pity on her and took over.

You yourself were having some difficulty not crying. You had seen some pretty messed up things, but you didn’t think you were ever going to be able to talk about this case again after you finished it. You rubbed at your eyes, trying to keep it together, and felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see it was a solemn Reid, offering you a soft, comforting smile. 

At this point, you hadn’t been at the BAU that long. You had joined around the same time as Emily and you two had bonded over the fact that you were fresh blood. The other person you had bonded with fairly quickly was Dr. Reid, not that he was hard to be friends with. Really all you had to do was listen, and that was easy for you. You found the doctor fascinating, riveted by all of his knowledge. You were convinced he knew everything, and you were surprised that he was now trying to comfort you.

You smiled back at him. Part of you wanted to reach up, place your hand over his, but you wondered if that would be too forward. You had noticed that often he didn’t even shake hands. You were pretty sure he didn’t want you touching him like...ever. Much though you liked Reid, he struck you as the sort of person who was more likely to bathe in hand sanitizer then willingly get too close to you, so this was...a pleasant surprise.

You returned his smile, grateful for the moment. Maybe you were imagining it, but it seemed like this would just be the start of you getting closer with Dr. Spencer Reid.

You remembered vividly what it had been like when you and the team had found Reid after Tobias Hankel kidnapped him. It wasn’t hard, since it had only been a few weeks ago. It had only been a few weeks since Reid had hugged you so tight that you might have told him you couldn’t breathe if you hadn’t been so focused on holding him just as tightly. You had apologized over and over, and he had, of course, told you it wasn’t your fault.

The weeks after that had been harder though. You had seen the haunted look in your eyes, and you knew that no matter how hard you tried it was sometimes reflected in your eyes. You never told him, but you had nightmares about it. About watching him die. Only in your dreams, he didn’t come back.

Eventually though, after a night out with the team where you were declared designated driver, you were forced to confront it. You were dropping him off at his place when he invited you in, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You just wanted to prolong this...peacefulness, before the night terrors came for you.

“It’s not much,” he apologized, ushering you into a home that seemed to mostly be filled with books.

“I think you have 8 different sets of encyclopedias just in this room alone,” you laughed.

“12, actually,” he corrected.

You turned to him, smiling. “’Not much.’ Seems like plenty to me. I’d kill to live surrounded by this many books.”

He laughed nervously, and you two ended up sitting on the couch a good healthy 6 inches apart. You hated it. Hated that you were just close enough to imagine that you could feel his body heat, but that you couldn’t, not really, and that distracting urge to just lean over and rest your head on his shoulder. It was infuriating. So, when you got up to use the bathroom, you might have sat back down just slightly closer than your original starting point. 

After a few more moments of staring numbly at the screen and noticing that Reid also wasn’t paying attention, you spoke.

“You’re not really watching this, are you?”

He jolted. “What? No, of course I am. The social hierarchies of the Chacma baboon are actually quite fascinating-”

“Reid,” you interrupted. “They stopped talking about the Chacma baboon 20 minutes ago. We’re onto the Cape Sugarbird now.”

“Oh. Right.”

You two trailed off into an awkward silence before you spoke again.

“Spencer...you know you can talk to me, right?”

“I-I’m fine.”

“If you were fine, I would be more worried about you than I am right now, Spence. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but something is making those dark circles under your eyes darker than usual.”

“Like you’re one to talk.” His tone strained to sound light. “You’ve been looking more and more sleep-deprived lately. The rest of the team hasn’t noticed I don’t think, but if anyone is worrying, it’s me. What’s on your mind?”

“You’re deflecting,” you deflected.

“So are you.”

Damn profilers.

“Okay. I tell you what keeps me up and night and you tell me if you’re comfortable with that?”

It’s quiet for a minute while he thinks about it. 

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ve been having nightmares. You know how everyone has a nightmare that’s like, the nightmare? Mine used to be finding the body of this teenage girl. Now it’s just you. Watching you die over and over again, except in this version-” Your voice breaks, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself. “In this version, I’m right there next to you, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

There is silence for a long moment.

“I’m an addict. Tobias drugged me with Dilaudid and I keep craving it. I’m trying...I’m trying not to use, but it’s hard. It’s so, so hard.”

“Spence.” It’s a soft sound, breathless. “You could have told me.”

You didn’t ask why he didn’t.

“I could have. But it’s embarrassing. I should be able to beat this. I have an IQ higher than Einstein’s and I can’t beat basic drug addiction?”

“Well, if you have an IQ higher than Einstein’s than you should be smart enough to know. You can’t beat drug addiction by yourself.” Not able to stop yourself anymore, you rested your head on his shoulder. “And now you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t say thank you. Doesn’t acknowledge the offer at all, except to say one thing.

“Do you want to sleep here tonight? It might help with your nightmares, and even if it doesn’t, seeing me alive when you wake up might make you feel better.”

“Yeah. I think that could be nice.”

You tugged a strand of Spencer’s long brown hair. 

“You’re really growing this out, huh?” you said, setting a coffee down on his desk over his shoulder.

“It’s not that long.” He frowned, and you giggled.

“Yeah, it kind of is, Spence. This is the longest I’ve ever seen it.”

“Well, I haven’t exactly been hobbling into the barbers on my crutches. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said, sitting on his desk. “I like it. Makes you look like a cool professor.”

He frowned again.

“That was a compliment.”

“You two are weird!” Garcia lovingly gave her input as she passed by.

“Love you too Penny!” you shout.

“You didn’t buy yourself coffee today,” he noticed.

“Nope. Wasn’t in the mood.”

“But you bought me one. From your favorite cafe. Is there something going on today?”

“Nope. I’m just nice like that.” 

You pretend not to notice when, in reaching for the coffee, Spencer’s knuckles graze your thigh. You’re sure it’s just a coincidence that he’s getting closer.

“Oh my gosh!” Your scream gets the entire team looking your way.

“Did you join a boyband?” Hotch asks.

Reid, with newly shorn hair, looks confused. “No?”

He sits down, ready for briefing, but you are not done yet.

“Your hair! Your beautiful hair!” Your mourning is short-lived though, once you notice the new hair, and you gasp. “Oh my goodness, it looks so fluffy and soft. Can I touch it? I’m going to touch it.”

You cross the room to run your fingers through his hair. It’s not the first time you’ve thought about doing it, but your surprise at his new style emboldens you. It’s exactly as soft and silky as it looks. You could run your fingers through it all day. You are so entranced by his hair that you don’t even notice Spencer closing his eyes, gently leaning back into your touch.

“We do have work to do, you know,” Rossi reminds.

“Okay, okay, I’m going and sitting down.” You beam at Spencer as you take your place. “Love the hair.”

You think it might be the first time you’ve ever seen the pretty boy speechless.

When Spencer walks in with even shorter hair, you can’t help your gasp. You also can’t deny it anymore. You’ve tried to fight it for the last 4 years, but sometimes the truth slaps you in the face like a large fish (don’t ask). You were attracted to Spencer Reid. Which wouldn’t so much be a problem, except for the fact that you were also in love with him. That part? That was definitely a problem.

“You good?” 

Emily raises an eyebrow at you, and you just nod dumbly. You can’t take your eyes off of him. He looks...hot.

“You don’t seem good.” Out of all the team, Emily was the one most likely to suspect your...predicament.

“I’m fine. Fine. Totally fine.”

“Uh huh. So you gonna tell me what you were thinking when Spencer walked through that door, or am I just going to have to profile you?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” This gets your attention, and you glare at her from your seat next to her.

“Oh, I would.”

You aren’t stupid enough to doubt her.

“Wow. I was thinking, ‘wow’.”

“Well, maybe you should tell him that.” She smirks.

“Or maybe I won’t.” You laugh nervously, glaring at her, and you think that’s the end of it.

That’s not the end of it.

Somehow, and you would never figure out how, Emily had gotten you and Spencer locked in a broom closet. You couldn’t prove it was her, but you were sure. Just as sure as you were that she had not foreseen the fact that, nervous at your close proximity, Spencer would start spouting facts about small spaces, claustrophobia, and anything at all related.

“Spencer,” you tried interrupting since he was making you nervous. “Spencer. Spence!”

You reached out, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket forcefully. Unfortunately, you had forgotten the fact that you were in a broom closet, and now it was safe to say that if you two had been close before, that was nothing compared to how close you were now. Your mouths were just inches away from each other, and you cursed yourself for all the thoughts you were having.

Spencer didn’t seem to have the same inhibitions though. Slowly, he trailed a finger down your shoulder and down your side, making you catch your breath. Eventually, his hand stopped right around your waist where, eyes focused on that point, his hand settled, wrapped around the bend in your waist to pull you even closer. You swore you couldn’t breathe.

“I was umm...I was wondering what you thought of the new haircut,” Spencer said.

“I like it.” You weren’t sure why you were whispering.

“Yeah? Emily said...she said you really liked it, but I wasn’t sure.”

You were never telling Emily anything again.

“Yeah, I do. I really, really like it. It’s super hot and-” 

Shoot. He had made you nervous, which made you ramble, and now you were going to have to change your name to Bathilda and move to Southern France because you had not meant to say that.

“You think it’s hot?” Wide, startled chocolate brown eyes stare into yours.

“Umm...” Was there even any use denying it? “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Actually, I think you’re hot. You are very, very attractive to me. And also I’m in love with you but that’s probably just an oxytocin thing because ever since you almost died I’ve been sleeping over at your place a lot and you know you’re a sleep cuddler and so somehow we always end up cuddling and so there’s the oxytocin and-”

He was kissing you. Spencer Reid was kissing you. And he was really, really good at it. Like, stupid good at it for a guy who was not known for his romantic conquests. You briefly wanted to know who taught him how to kiss like this so you could find them and punch their lights out, but then you were too busy kissing him to worry about that.

Both of his hands were on you now, one on your waist, the other cupping your face as he kissed you. Your right hand gripped the lapel of his jacket even harder as your left came up to get play with the much shorter hair at the nape of his neck. You were just about to pass out from lack of air a very, very happy girl when conveniently someone opened the closet door.

“Oh my gosh. Wait till I tell Derek! He owes me $50 now, and Rossi owes me $200 that smug jerk!” Penelope did not waste time going to collect her money.

“So...” you said, blushing.

“So...” He was rocking back and forth nervously on his feet. “You wanna go out on a date?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds #dr. reid #spencer reid x reader #oneshot #cm #cm:ff #criminal minds:ff #fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #tw:drugs #tw:death #i almost posted this with my fake wordcount #which is basically just whatever joke of the day my brain tries to come up with that i insert before writing the fic as a placeholder #i've written some really funny things that have never seen the light of day