#mattew gray gubler x reader

[avis-writeshq]

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?” 

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.” 

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?” 

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?” 

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?” 

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

*** 

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

*** 

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 

“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles. 

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 

next part →

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[daddy-dotcom]

The Visit

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Things aren’t looking good for Spencer after his visit to Mexico. So you decide to prepare for the worst, and you knew getting married was the only surefire way to stay connected while he was locked up.

Rating: M

Words: 5,333

Warnings: Language, typical canon violence, smut (fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex)

*Disclaimer: Major inaccuracies for how the American prison system works lol*

TL;DR: Spencer and Reader get married so that they can have conjugal visits while he's in prison.

__________________________________________

I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Even worse, I couldnt bear to not be able to hold him and tell him everything was okay. Seeing him behind bars, alone, was enough to make me fight back tears. I’ve seen him hurt before, but this was different. It was almost as if I were staring at the ghost of Spencer Reid. I knew going to Mexico to get his mother’s medication was risky, but I had no idea that he’d end up in this much trouble. I should have stopped him. I should have gone with him. But no matter how guilty I was feeling, the damage was already done. With no concrete evidence that he was framed, it looked like Spencer was most likely going to be found guilty for murder. The love of my life was going to prison and I was completely helpless in the situation. At least I thought I was. . .until an idea struck me. An insane idea, and somewhat of a long shot, but an idea nonetheless, some small way to help Spencer keep his sanity while he was locked up. I wasn’t sure if he would go for it, but I had to try.

“hey, Spence,” I said with my face pressed against the cool metal of the bars.

“hi, (Y/N)” he said with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“you’re looking more like yourself, baby. And they’re letting you come home with us on the jet.”

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, unsure of what else to say. For a man who typically had so much to say, it was eerie to be in such a silent room.

It’s now or never.

“So Spence, you know I was thinking, in case the…the unthinkable happens, and you aren’t acquitted…” I was fighting back the tears, trying to get my idea across,

“…maybe we should…I think it might be a good idea if we…get married?”

He immediately looked up to meet my gaze, looking more alive than he has the entire time we’ve been in Mexico.

“Married?” he said softly.

“Well it would only be so I can visit you, Spence. I mean like visit you visit you, without all the guards watching us and in a place where I can actually hold you and spend more time with you. Hell, I can’t even hug you for more than a couple seconds during a regular visit”

I could see the gears turning in his mind, something I’ve seen a million times, but I couldn’t tell if he was actually considering my offer.

“It’s been a year Spence, it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”

It’s true. We’ve been dating for over a year now, and we’ve both made it clear that we’d like to marry each other some day. But we never imagined it would be this soon and under these circumstances.

Spencer got up from the bench he’d been sitting on and came over to hold my hand through the bars.

“Even if I weren’t facing prison time…it would be an absolute honor to marry you, (Y/N)”

All of the tension in my body melted away now that I knew he was on board with my proposition. I gave him a warm smile as he gently cupped my face in his hands. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead and held onto my hand before getting down on one knee.

“If we’re going to do this, I’d at least like to propose to you properly,” he said, with as much of a smile as he could muster.

“(YFN/YLN), will you marry me?” he asked.

The dam finally broke and I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They began to stream down my face as I let out a firm and resounding “Yes.”

______________________________

I was practically squirming in my seat on the plane ride home. It was almost impossible to keep this secret and it took everything I had not to blurt out our plan. I knew that I had to tell them soon, since we were going to need their help to make this happen. With a deep breath, I pulled Spencer up from our seats and marched over to the rest of the team.

“Guys, Spencer and I have an announcement to make,”

“Oh my god you’re not pregnant, are you?” said JJ.

“No! No, it’s not that,” I replied, I hesitated before dropping the bomb.

“Spencer and I are getting married.”

Prentiss and JJ exchanged a confused look while Alvez’s mouth hung open in shock. Rossi, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“Oh I get it, you two want to get married so that (Y/N) can request ‘family visits.’” The implications of putting the word ‘family visits’ in airquotes was not lost on me. “You all might of heard of what they used to call them back in the day: conjugal visits.”

“Actually the practice conjugal visits have evolved into a more family oriented experience. Modern family visits usually last the weekend and include children and other family members besides just a spouse.”

“Glad to see you’re almost back to normal, kid” quipped Rossi.

“Well if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need some help. Prentiss, do you have anyone that can meet us at Quantico and marry us on such short notice?” I asked.

“I’m already making the call.”

“Does anyone else think this is just a little bit crazy? There’s a good chance that Spence won’t even go to prison at all,” JJ said.

Alvez snapped out of his daze and interjected.

“I agree, but if Reid and (Y/N) get to spend some alone-time together in the event that he does go, I don’t see the harm. I mean come on, Rossi’s been married like what, five times?”

“Hey, it’s only been three times,” Rossi responded.

“Look, JJ, you would do it for Will, wouldn’t you?”

She paused for a minute, pondering my question.

With a sympathetic look, JJ responded

“of course I would.”

_________________________________

As soon as we landed, we were greeted by Garcia and the court officiant who Prentiss had called on the plane. Garcia nearly tackled us coming out of the elevator, completely overjoyed to see Spencer home in one piece.

“Oh I’m so glad you’re all home safe!��� she said squeezing us in a tight embrace.“But I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement via a text from Alvez!”

“Sorry Penn, it was super last minute,” I said with a shrug.

“I brought you some things while you were on the plane ride home. (Y/N), for you I got a white dress, sorry I had to guess on the size, and Reid I asked your mom’s nurse if it was okay to grab a clean suit from your apartment.”

“Oh Penn, you didn’t have to do all this. Where did you even find a dress on such short notice?”

“Emily’s not the only one with connections sweet cheeks,” she said with a wink.

“Thank you so much, really Penn I appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me, now you and boy-wonder go get dressed so we can get you hitched.”

I took the bag from Penelope and inspected its contents once inside the bathroom. It was a simple but gorgeous white gown. It came down to about my calves, and it had white cap sleeves with a sweetheart neckline.

Classy. The woman has good taste.

I took a deep breath before exiting the stall, and I was greeted by Penelope, Emily, and JJ standing by the sink.

They all turned their heads towards me and gasped before looking me up and down.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said Emily.

“Spence is definitely gonna cry when he sees how gorgeous you look,” added JJ.

The tears had already started streaming down Penelope’s face as she walked over to me and placed one of her bracelets on my wrist.

“There, now you have your something blue,” she said with teary eyes. “You make the most beautiful bride (Y/N)”

“I’d love to stay in here and continue this little bachelorette party but our court official is waiting out there to marry our two lovebirds,” said Emily.

With one final look in the mirror, I took a deep breath and headed out the door, on my way to officially become Mrs. Spencer Reid. The reality of marriage hadn't hit me until just now. Who can blame me? I'd only become someone's fiancé about 5 hours ago. My palms began to sweat as my priorities shifted towards my impending marriage. Even if I wasn't ready, it was my idea in the first place and I intended to keep my end of the bargain. I, however, was more worried about Spencer. What if he was having second thoughts? I barely brought the idea up to him a few hours ago, and he was coming off of drugs in a Mexican jail cell when he agreed. Just as I was begging to spiral, a hand grazed the side of my waist and Spencer appeared. He cleaned up surprisingly well given the circumstances, looking incredibly handsome in his suit.

"Nervous?" he asked. As a profiler and a genius, there was no way I was going to be able to conceal my nerves from him.

"Spence, don't you know you're not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony?" I joked.

"(Y/N), you know I don't believe in superstitions," he said wryly.

"But yes, I am little nervous, mostly because I was afraid you might be having second thoughts."

He smiled warmly, the same way he had done when he agreed to marry me earlier in the day.

"Living in Vegas, and working with Rossi, I've known quite a bit of people who've gotten married on a whim. While it might be a little sooner than we thought, it's giving me a chance to hold you close in case I..." his voice began to crack and I could see his eyes welling up, "...in case I get taken into custody. But trust me, (Y/N), there was never a doubt in my mind about marrying you, especially now that I'm seeing how beautiful you look in a wedding dress."

I was tearing up too, at this point, for about the fifth time today. I took both of his hands in mine and simply said "I love you Spence,"

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

____________________________________________

We walked hand in hand into the briefing room where everyone was waiting anxiously for us and Spencer and I took our place across from each other in front of the court official. We joined hands once more and I could see Penelope shoot me a thumbs while Alvez gave Spence a reassuring pat on the back. The official began to speak which caused my heart to practically beat out of my chest.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to join this man and this woman in matrimony."

He turns toward Spencer before speaking again.

“Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do” he said while maintaining my gaze. I could see tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, causing my eyes to well up too. But I couldn’t cry, because if I started now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

“(Y/N), do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do,” I manage to say with a lump forming in my throat.

The court official turns back to Spencer and asks him to repeat after him.

"I, Spencer Reid, take you (Y/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” I could hear his voice start to crack as he fought back more tears, “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

He said this with such conviction that there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to marry this man. I’d never seen his eyes so full of love before. It was those kind eyes looking back at me that turned one of the worst days into the happiest day of my life. Now, it was my turn to recite my vows and officially become Mrs. Reid.

“I, (YFN/YLN), take you, Spencer Reid, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

It took everything in my power not to become a blubbering mess during my vows. Penelope, however, had no problem letting the tears flow freely down her rosy pink cheeks.

"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The court official gave a small smile before turning to Spencer and saying “you may kiss the bride."

Spencer wasted no time moving his hands to sit comfortably on my hips and I pulled his face in close for a kiss. This was something we’d done a million times before, but never for an audience. As soon as his lips touched mine, however, it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. All the exhaustion, pain, and suffering from the events of Mexico seemed to melt away as we kissed. He continued to press his lips more forcefully against mine and I could feel the slightest brush of his tongue before a voice spoke up from the crowd.

“Alright you two save it for the honeymoon,” Rossi joked.

We slowly pulled away and both our our cheeks began to blush like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents. One by one, our team members came over to congratulate us and Penelope and JJ wanted a million pictures. We spent the rest of our night talking, laughing, and even dancing with our team members, just happy to find joy in this moment of darkness. Little did we know, Mexico was only the beginning of our troubles.

________________________________

Our wedding celebrations were cut short with the announcement that the FBI would not be legally representing Spencer since he broke protocol and didn’t inform them of his trip to Mexico. Once he went to trial, we still had no concrete evidence that he was framed, and his DNA was found on the murder weapon. Our worst nightmare had finally come true. Spencer was taken into custody and and whisked away to prison. A small part of me was grateful that I was now legally his wife, but I still wished that it didn’t have to happen under these circumstances. The day he was taken to prison, I immediately applied to be granted family visits and I begged Prentiss and Alvez to call in every favor they could to get moved up the waitlist. It was going to take a couple of months for Spencer to prove he was behaving in prison, but I could still visit him regularly before then. A couple of weeks after he was taken into custody, he was finally allowed to have visitors, and the team all unanimously agreed that I should be his first one. I wasn’t granted a family visit just yet, but I needed to see his face and finally be able to talk to him.

As I walked into the Millburn Correctional Facility, I was searched, went through a metal detector, and searched again before I was led into a room filled with a long partition and chairs on either side. I found a seat in the corner that had no one on either side of me and waited for Spencer to arrive. I nervously tapped my finger on the table as I anxiously waited to see my husband for the first time since he was taken to prison. I turned my head to see a tall, lanky figure in a white t-shirt and blue pants with a matching blue button up walking towards me. I could see his eyes light up when he spotted me and I could feel my entire being do the same.

“Hi baby,” I said, just happy to finally see him.

“Hi my love,” he replied with a ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. I could tell he was slightly thinner and probably not sleeping well. However, his casual outfit combined with his shaggy hair and the growing stubble on his face somehow made him even more attractive.

“You look good baby, you holding up okay so far?”

“I'm doing okay, given the circumstances. How's my mom? Is she doing alright?"

"She's doing fine actually, Cassie said that she was having a really good day yesterday."

"Where did you, uh, tell her I was?"

"Uh, the beach," I told him with a chuckle, "well she asked if that's where you were and it seemed to make her happy so..."

"Good."

There was a pause and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his gaze. He wasn't breaking eye contact either and I could feel the love behind his stare.

"I, uh, I'm really happy to see you," he said, "I kind of wish you hadn't come, it's uh, not the best idea."

His words hurt slightly, but I knew the state that his mind was in. He didn't want to become a target and he definitely didn't want me to see him like this.

"Sorry Spence, but you're stuck with me," I said with a smile, "you got stuck with me the day you agreed to be my husband. And the last time I saw you, we promised for better or for worse. Besides, this is just the beginning, I've already applied for family visit privileges and we should be getting a date any day now. You don't know how badly I wish I could just hug you, Spence."

I saw him look down, I'm assuming in an attempt to fight back tears, before he spoke again.

"Thank you, (Y/N). I'm so grateful everyday that you're now my wife. But if you're here, that means you're not out working on a case, and I don't want to be a burden."

"That's nonsense Spence, you could never be a burden to me."

"Tell me about the case then, it will help get my mind off... all this."

I proceeded to give him the details of our latest case and I assured him that the rest of the team would be coming by to check in on him and visit him as well. It pained me that I couldn't hug or kiss him goodbye, but I held out hope that it wouldn't be long before I finally could.

While our team members were busy taking turns visiting Spencer in prison, I decided to start writing him letters. Most of them consisted of me catching him up on cases and my personal life, or lack thereof, while others were love letters that expressed just how much I truly missed him. Even though Spencer Reid is a certified genius and an excellent agent, at the end of the day he was still just a man and I knew that the stress that came with being in prison combined with not being able to touch me everyday was likely driving him insane. Luckily, our prayers had been answered and all of the favors from Prentiss and Alvez came through. I finally received a date for my family visit with Spencer, which would be three weeks from now. In the meantime, I began penning a letter to Spencer to tell him the good news. But this wouldn't be one of our typical letters; this letter was going to be much dirtier in nature. I had to admit that I too was starting to feel the effects from the lack of physical contact. So in my letter, I was going to tell him exactly what I wanted to do with him at our "family visit."

_______________________________

The day had finally arrived. Not only was I going to be able to see my husband, I was going to be able to hug him, touch him, hold him, and kiss him…among other things. In all honesty, I was just excited to see him with some semblance of normalcy. I had been researching spousal visits for the past three weeks, and the general consensus was that all of these women were dressing to impress. So I put on my nicest skirt, tight-fitting one that I had previously purchased with the intention of wearing to work but it was slightly too short for the office, and a floral blouse with spaghetti straps that was just low-cut enough to see the top of my cleavage. I paired the outfit with nude stilettos and fixed up my hair and makeup as nicely as I could. While my outfit certainly didn’t leave everything to the imagination, I still had to maintain a certain level of modesty. After all, I was still a federal agent.

The search process for spousal visits was much more intense, so much so that I couldn’t even bring my phone into the room with me. I was, however, allowed to bring books and a chess set for Spencer. I made my way through a longer hallway than the one I had gone through the last time, which led out to a courtyard where a row of temporary buildings sat. I was then escorted into one of the 4 rooms in the building and I was instructed to wait for the guards to bring Spencer in. I sat with my legs crossed on the bed in the middle of the room, which was unsurprisingly bare. The room resembled a somewhat nice motel room, with a kitchenette in one corner, a couch in the other, and a separate bathroom. The only sounds I could hear in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the pounding of my heart in my chest. I wasn't nervous to see my husband, it was actually just the opposite. I was positively inpatient at the thought of finally being able to make physical contact with the love of my life. In an effort to distract myself, I poked around the bedside table, knowing damn well what I was going to find. There were more innocent items in the drawer, like soap and toothpaste, and right next to it were lubricant and condoms. We won't be needing those, I thought to myself with a smirk forming at the corner of my lips. I was startled by a knock at the door and quickly shut the door. I quickly adjusted my top and fixed my hair before replying.

"Come in!"

The door slowly swung open to reveal a handcuff-free Spencer standing in the doorway. He stood frozen in place, looking at me in disbelief that I was actually here. I stood up from my spot on the bed and ran over to give him the biggest hug. I squeezed my arms around his torso and buried my face in his chest. We stood like this for a moment, in the doorway, just familiarizing ourselves with each other once again.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, Spence."

I finally lifted my head up to get a good look at him while snaking my hands up to cup is face.

"Trust me, I've probably been more desperate to hug you than you have,"

"Oh really?" I asked with raised eyebrows, "you know this isn't a competition right?"

"Oh, I know. But if it was, I would win," he said, with the slightest hint of a playful smirk.

I took Spencer's hand in mine and pulled him over to my spot where I was sitting when he arrived. Our hands stayed connected as we sat side by side on the edge of the bed. While I was admittedly aroused at the thought of finally being able to make love again, all of those thoughts melted away when I finally saw him. Truthfully, I was just happy to spend some quality time with him and give him a break from this awful situation.

"How have you been since the last time I saw you, love?"

"I've been doing okay, mostly trying to keep my head down. I guess you could say I made a friend, though. His name is Calvin Shaw-"

"The agent who killed his informant?!" I exclaimed.

"Well yes, but he's the only one who knows I'm a federal agent and he's been pretty generous. Getting me moved to my own cell, giving me books and playing chess with me."

I gently placed a kiss on his forehead and began to stroke his beautiful veiny hand with my thumb.

"I'm just happy you're not completely alone in there baby"

"I've managed to make some connections, but what's been keeping me going is the thought of seeing you. I've actually been looking forward to this since the last time we spoke. . . and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that letter you sent me."

A wicked smile crept onto my lips as I realized which letter exactly he was referring to.

"Oh that letter! I'm glad you enjoyed it baby, I meant every word. I've been missing you in more ways than one. . ." I said, moving my free hand to his thigh. He inhaled deeply at my touch and his gaze was locked on mine.

"Well you don't have to miss me anymore, love, I'm right here. If we're being honest, I don't think I'll be able to focus on our conversation until I've had my way with you," he said, moving one hand to slide his fingers into my hair. I melted into his touch then I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"You can have me, baby, any way you want," I replied, trying my best to look up at him with doe eyes.

He forcefully leaned in to place his lips on mine, and now both of his hands were tugging at my hair. This kiss was passionate, but in a way we've never experienced before. Since we've met, we've never spent more than a few days apart. This kiss was different, it was filled with longing and desperation. Months of going without physical contact has finally led to this moment. The moment when dam finally breaks and the sexual tension that's been building in our written correspondence comes to the surface.

One hand stayed pulling my hair while the other made its way to my breast. Equally touch starved, I moved my hand up his thigh to palm the now evident bulge forming in his pants. He hissed in response and I used then opportunity to force my tongue further into his mouth. He began to suck on it and I moaned into him at the feeling. He abruptly moved from my mouth and started working down towards my neck."

"You know," he said, breathlessly, between kisses "after you sent me that letter, I couldn't help myself. I'm lucky I have my own cell, I had to get some relief or else I would've gone insane."

"You're not the only one baby, " I replied in a daze as he continued tome further down my neck, "I would touch myself at night wishing it was your fingers inside of me."

He grunted at my words and buried his face in my breasts.

"You wore this top just for me didn't you?"

"Mhm, just for you."

"I think it's time we see what's underneath," he said as he pulled the shirt swiftly over my head. My lips crashed back into his and I made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt. I wasn't used to seeing Spencer in a white t-shirt, so I soaked up the image as best I could before pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor.

"You said you missed my fingers, baby?" I sighed a resounding "yes" before he moved his hands up my skirt, barely brushing his fingertips against my panties. I moaned at the contact, and I felt him smirk against my lips before pushing my panties aside and inserting a digit into my wet folds.

"Fuck, Spencer" I groaned as his long fingers stretched inside me.

"You're so tight, love. You really did miss me stretching you out, didn't you?"

"Yes!" I yelled and he began to pump his fingers in and out.

The room filled with the sounds of our moans and Spencer pumping in and out of me. I could feel a familiar pressure tightening in my abdomen, but I needed more of him. I knew he needed me too because I could see his erection straining through his pants. It's almost as if he read my mind because he removed his fingers and placed them in my mouth.

"Fuck, I need you so badly, (Y/N)," he said as I sucked on his fingers.

Not bothering to take off my skirt, I laid back on the bed as he pushed up the fabric and pulled off my panties. He undid his own pants and threw them haphazardly onto the floor along with his underwear. He brushed his fingers along my now exposed cunt, gathering my arousal on his fingertips.

"You're so wet for me baby, it's driving me insane."

He slid his hard length along my pussy, which earned a moan from the both of us before he pushed the tip into me.

"Oh my god, Spence," I whined. He was stretching me out so well since I haven't had him inside me in weeks.

"Baby you're so tight," he said, letting his mouth hang open in pleasure.

"Please, Spence. . .fuck me," I pleaded. He wasted no time and began to give me deep strokes. I moaned at every thrust, which only motivated him to thrust harder and deeper. His pace became relentless as the tip of his length was now hitting my cervix.

"Fuck, Spencer, come for me. I want you to fill me up, baby."

"Anything for you, love," he said, giving me everything he has.

"I want your babies Spencer, please!" I screamed, knowing full well that I was on the pill and that wasn't going to happen. . . yet.

That was all it took for him to spill his load inside of me. We both became moaning messes as he came. Once he was finished, he rolled off of me and ran to the bathroom to help me clean up. I went to pee, and when I returned, Spencer laid his head on my chest and we sat, cuddled in silence, until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness, I could hear quiet sobs coming from Spencer and I felt little drops of tears on my breasts.

"Baby are you okay? What's wrong my love?" I said, raking my hands through his soft wavy locks.

"I don't want to go back in there," he said, like a child, in barely more than a whisper.

"I wish I could stay here with you indefinitely. I wish I never had to sleep apart from you again. I was trying to be strong for you, (Y/N), but it's so much worse than I imagined."

I didn't press him for details, but I couldn't help but begin to cry in sympathy.

"Listen to me, Spence. I can't even being to understand what you're going through, but you are the strongest person I know. I also know that you have a team of people behind you who love you and will stop at nothing to prove you're innocent. Just remember that every time you're lonely or scared, baby. And we'll keep visiting you and sending you letters and books, anything we can do to keep your mind busy."

"Thank you, my love," he said, slowly rising up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"For better or for worse remember?"

"For better or for worse."

He spent the rest of the night lying on my chest as I stroked his hair and lulled him to sleep, avoiding the dread of being separated in the morning for as long as we could.

_________________________________________

AN: Finally finished this fic omg it was a long time coming. But I've been busy in medical assisting school and this one required a lot more research than my previous works lol. But finally happy with the result and please show it some love. Thanks to all my moots for believing in this :)

Taglist:

@reidscaffeine @swaggysagiewagie@v-i-o-l-e-t@louderfortheback

@sadroses98@lauravegann @coldoaftoadzipper-blog@avis-writeshq@inkwriter122 @bitchysweetskitty @cryingoverfelix@whyisitdifferent@namjoonspinkytoenail@thatsonezesty13 @singinghamtaro-blog@abbeyskeff@cassie444

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid fic #mattew gray gubler #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Interventions Part One

Season Two Episode Six

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 6275

Series Masterlist

Summary: Y/N spirals out of control. Spencer and Aaron recruit the whole team to help. 

Notes: This one is going to be crazy long, but I’m really excited to dive into each relationship the reader has with everyone on the team. I was really planning on making this one part to keep the season nine episodes, but I thought, fuck it. There’s so much to go over in this. I was going to do more with JJ, but since she wouldn’t actually be there, I shortened it, but I think it still conveys the importance of their friendship. Obviously, both of these parts are going to jump scenes a lot, but I hope it’s still clear. 

Warnings: Alcoholism, suicidal thoughts/actions, depression, PTSD, etc. (both of these are going to be pretty intense, so ye have been warned)

-

He carried it with him. The envelope, though thin, it weighed in his pocket every day like a stone pressed against his heart. It was too painfully familiar, the sweeping letters of his name. The note left by Jason Gideon haunted yours, the sting of abandonment fogging Spencer’s mind with more emotions than he knew how to handle. 

It’d been three days since everyone got back from Los Vegas. Three days since he saw you, or even heard from you. The worry was making it hard to work. He had no idea where you were or if you were okay. He didn’t even have it in him to be angry. He just wanted you to come home. 

Of course, the team noticed the youngest member’s change in behavior, but everyone assumed he was still recovering from the case with his father. Only Hotch suspected something else was wrong. 

He hadn’t heard from you either. 

The whole morning, everyone worked in a tense silence, like they were all waiting for a bomb to go off, but they didn’t know when. Emily darted back and forth between her desk and Hotch’s. She feigned a series of questions about cases, but really she was just checking to make sure he was okay. She’d noticed he’d seemed more stressed than usual lately and figured it was because of worrying about you. Of course, everyone was worried about you. Morgan had asked about you more than usual and Emily hadn’t quite figured out why. 

It was around one, right after everyone got back from lunch- whoever decided to leave- that the said bomb hit. 

“Guys,” Prentiss said, eyes glued to the news playing on the television. 

“Pine River Psychiatric Hospital outside Oregon City, Oregon has released a statement today announcing the death of mass murderer, Lydia Y/L/N, the woman responsible for what the press called ‘The Birthday Cake Killings,’” the anchor announced.

 The room went silent. Reid was frozen in his chair and his hands started to shake. Hotch came out of his office and watched with them.

 “Lydia Y/L/N killed six teenage girls at her daughter’s birthday party in the spring of 1998. She pleaded insanity and was sentenced to life in psychiatric care. Y/L/N leaves behind her daughter, the only victim to have survived the murders-”

Hotch muted the television. 

“Oh my god,” Prentiss exclaimed. “Does Y/N know?” 

Hotch nodded. “They would have called her first. She’s Lydia’s only next of kin.” He turned to Reid who hadn’t stopped staring at the TV. “Reid, did you see her this morning? Did she seem-”

“She left me,” Reid said, almost to himself, but loud enough for Morgan to hear. 

“What?” Morgan boomed. “What do you mean, she left you?” 

Reid spoke quietly like a broken man trying to find the pieces. “The night we got back from…” he took a deep breath and finally turned around to find everyone’s anxious gazes burning into him. “From Las Vegas, I found this on her desk.” He pulled the note out of his jacket pocket, looking down at his name in your beautiful handwriting. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Morgan asked. 

“I didn’t think I needed to announce the condition of my love life, and frankly, I wasn’t ready to talk about it,” he fired back. “I figured she would’ve told you,” he added, looking up at Hotch. 

“She didn’t,” Hotch said. A thick, heavy feeling of dread filled his chest like molten metal. 

“Damnit!” Morgan yelled, kicking his chair back. It hit the floor with a deafening crash. 

Rossi came out of his office. “What’s going on?” 

“Y/N’s mom died,” Prentiss answered, still shocked by her partner’s outburst.

“Is Y/N okay? Does she know?” He asked.  

“You don’t understand,” Morgan sighed. He took a moment to calm himself down and let his gaze dart between Hotch and Reid. “Y/N’s drinking again.” 

A tense heaviness sank into everyone in the room. In a blink, Reid had crossed to Morgan, his hands gripping the other agent’s shirt. 

“How long have you known and not told anyone?” Reid snapped. 

Morgan was taken aback. He’d never seen the kid like this before. Reid had never been violent with someone else on the team before, but the fierce anger on his face told Morgan just how serious he was. 

He put his hands on his shoulders slowly, trying to urge his hands away from him. “I only found out when I called her to come to Vegas, okay? I was trying to give her the chance to tell you herself, but I think it’s been going on for a while.” 

“Do you have any idea what this means for her?” Reid said, the anger cracking to reveal his panic. “Do you know how much pain she must be in? And now, her mom is…”

“Reid,” Hotch said sharply. 

Reid let go, but Morgan kept his hands on his arms. 

“We’ll find her.”

The two men looked at each other, a shared guilt between them. Morgan knew, if he’d just told Hotch and Reid about you, they could have stopped you from leaving. 

Spencer berated himself for not noticing the signs. He should have seen it. He should have helped you. 

And now you were gone. 

It was like Fairfax all over again, except now, the only villain they would be facing was the one inside of your head. The demons you’d never shared. 

-

JJ

You didn’t know why you answered the phone. You’d been ignoring calls all day and almost turned it off altogether, but the name that came up stopped you. Maybe you thought it was somehow poetic. 

“Hey JJ.”

“Y/N, hi. I-um-I just heard and I want to see how you’re doing.” 

“You know, I didn’t think Aaron would stoop as low as to use the new mother to babysit.” Your words swam in your head as much as they stumbled out of your mouth. 

“I’m not calling for your brother. I want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“Oh, I’m doing great. I’m curled up, watching stupid Christmas movies about stupid families with stupid mothers who make stupid dinners for their perfectly stupid kids. I’m having a great morning. You?” 

She paused. “Sweetie, how much have you had to drink?” 

“I don’t know why you guys are making a big deal about this,” you huffed. “It’s not like you were there the first time. You don’t know. Maybe I’ve changed. I’m not the woman you met and trusted into your family. Killing someone does that.” You didn’t mean for the last part to slip out, but the liquor loosened your lips. 

“You’re right. We weren’t there,” she said. “But we’re here now. You have people who care about you, Y/N. We just want to help you.” 

You stared at the tv, absentmindedly watching a mother and daughter decorate Christmas cookies. You imagined them licking the frosting off of the spoons and collapsing in a seizing, gasping heap. Just like you and your mom used to. 

“I need you to do something for me, JJ.” You finally said. 

“Of course. Anything.” 

“You’re the front man. Hell, you’re the first person I met that day. You were so sweet and smiley and wonderful.”

 Your words held no bitterness, but a kind of melancholy. Like you were mourning for a life lost. The life where the two of you were friends, where Spencer smiled at being made godfather of her son, and you could look on with something other than total despair in your chest. You could resume pretending that you were a part of their family. 

“You’re the one that looks through everything and decides what cases to present, right?” 

Her tone tinted with confusion. “Yeah.”

“Tell them I’m not one of your cases.” 

“Y/N, wait-”

You hung up the phone. 

-

“Okay. Thanks JJ,” Reid sighed. He leaned his head back against the hallway wall, taking a break from his pacing. He tried calling you again, but no answer. 

JJ said you didn’t sound good. He felt bad for bringing her into this- she should be relaxing at home with Henry and Will, but he knew that she would have driven to the BAU and yelled at him for not keeping her in the loop. 

He knew JJ saw you as more of a sister than just a friend. She was worried. Everybody was. 

“Was that JJ?” Prentiss asked. “What’d she say?” 

“That Y/N is drinking and she’s afraid it’s going to get worse,” he said. “Y/N told her that she’s changed. She doesn’t think she deserves to be a part of us anymore.” He paused and ran his hand down his face. “Because she killed Sarah Cunningham.” 

“She thinks she’s becoming her mother,” Prentiss nodded mournfully. “And now, she’ll never get the closure of coming to terms with it because her mother died.” 

“Morgan should have said something,” Reid snapped. “He knew. He could have- I don’t know- maybe if we’d known we could have stopped her from leaving.” 

Prentiss crossed her arms. “Come on, Reid. You aren’t really mad at him and you know it. This is about something else.” 

He stared at her for a moment, shoulders sinking, and started pacing again. “I should have seen it. I knew something was off, but I didn’t do anything and now-”

“Woah woah woah,” she said, holding a hand out to stop him. “This is not your fault, okay? Y/N would have been careful. She understands behavior just as well as we do. She would know exactly what to hide from you, from Hotch, from everybody.” 

“But I should have seen through it,” he shook his head, voice cracking from the pressure building in his chest. “I didn’t even go after her. She left me that letter and I assumed it was because of Vegas. I thought I’d become too much for her and she left just like-” 

He stopped himself. He didn’t even know who he meant at this point. So many people had left him already. The thought of losing you… it piled on with the rest until he couldn’t see anything else anymore. 

Prenitss’ face softened. “Spencer…” 

“I don’t know what to do,” he cried. “When I almost lost her before, we had a villain, something to go after. Now,” His hands floundered helplessly at his sides. He needed to do something. “She doesn’t want to be found.” 

Emily took the younger agent in her arms and hid her own heartbroken expression in his shoulder. It felt like the team had lost one of their own and, in a way, she thought maybe they had. But she refused to accept that. 

Emily Prentiss, of all people, knew what it was like to protect the people you love from your past. And as her mind started running with the connections, she let Reid go, keeping a hand on his shoulder. 

“We’re going to find her,” she said. “She’s going to be okay. Y/N’s one tough woman, even if she doesn’t see that right now. We have to help her find herself.” 

He nodded and returned to his pacing while Prentiss formed a plan. 

-

Dave- Six years ago

Your arm hung limply in the sling across your chest and the soreness of every motion only made the red tint of embarrassment on your cheeks grow. 

The man sat across from you in a chair in the corner. He flipped absently through a magazine, gazing up every once in a while. 

“I remember you, you know,” you finally said after the silence became unbearable. “You were at my high school graduation reception. You only stayed, like, two minutes, but I saw you there. You’re David Rossi. I’ve read your books.” 

“I would hope you remembered me,” he scoffed, putting the magazine aside. “Who do you think that generous gift came from?” The man smirked and crossed his arms, eyeing you in a way that reminded you of your brother every time you snuck out. “So… wanna talk about how you got here?” 

“Where’s Aaron?” You asked, avoiding his question. 

“Being processed.” 

You nodded, only snippets of the past few hours recovered in your memory. “Right.” You shifted back against the hospital bed pillow and winced. Hangovers and broken bones definitely didn’t mix. You blew out a breath. “That was stupid.” 

“I’ll say,” Former Agent Rossi said. 

You rolled your eyes. “I meant Aaron. He could get fired for something like that, right?” 

“I doubt he will be. Professor Douche isn’t pressing charges so he can keep this all under wraps. Besides, most people in the bureau would have done the same thing,” he glowered. “I know I would have.” 

“Brian isn’t a bad man. He’s brilliant and he’s helped me through-”

“He’s writing a book, Y/N,” Dave blurted. 

You looked away, the reason you drank pouring back into your memory. You’d found the pages on his desk and downed a few glasses of wine, finished a bottle of vodka, and half a bottle of absinthe, by the time he came back to his house. You screamed at him until you fell down a flight of stairs. 

Dave’s face softened with sympathy. “He was using you for content, sweetheart.” 

“That’s not…” You still couldn’t lift your gaze. “That’s not why I did it.” 

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and for some reason, you welcomed his presence. In your years of building up distrust for everyone, this man- basically a stranger- already felt so familiar. 

“I know,” he said. 

“My uncle drowned himself in a bottle of Jack. I haven’t seen him since I graduated, but it’s still, I don’t know. When you don’t have much family, every member counts, right?” You finally looked up at him and found he was listening intently. “That’s why I went over to Brian- Dr. Calvin’s house. I have a key so I let myself in and found the manuscript on his desk.” You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Maybe you knew, if Aaron trusted him, then you could too. 

He didn’t say anything for a while, only nodded in understanding. After a while, he finally spoke. “You know, I’ve been through a lot with your brother in the years we worked together.” He paused, making sure you understood the importance of what he was about to say. “When he called me tonight, I'd never heard him so scared. Believe me. The broken nose was deserved.” 

You laughed humorlessly, hating the fact that he was right. When you were loaded into the ambulance, you remembered Brian worrying about how he’d look. He screamed at you for bringing him into your problems. He wasn’t anything like the person you’d fallen in love with. Your brother had just seen that all along. 

“You’re a legend in profiling, right?” You said. 

He raised a brow. “I don’t know if ‘legend’ is the word I would use.” He chuckled. “Why?” 

You turned your head to the window. Your lip quivered as the pieces and fractures of memory kept coming back to you. 

“Why do I do it?” When you looked back at him, tears filled your vision. “I mean, I saw what it did to Uncle Robbie. I’ve seen it since I was a kid and I let it happen to me anyway. I welcomed it. Why?” 

“There’s a lot of reasons people turn to alcohol and drugs, especially after going through something like you did,” he said. “It makes sense that maybe you saw a kind of relief your uncle got from it so you tried to find it for yourself.” 

“Is there something wrong with me, Mr. Rossi?” You cried. “For the past four years, I’ve been trying to figure it out. I tried to drink it away, but it just made things worse. I don’t know what to do.”

He put a hand on top of yours. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N. You survived something nobody should ever have to go through. Your entire life changed. Hell, you found out there was another half to your family you didn’t even know about. And you still graduated top of your class. You’ve pushed yourself so hard to prove to yourself that you aren’t that girl anymore that you split yourself in two.” 

You closed your eyes, the tears finally spilling out. You never realized it before. All this time, you’ve spent studying to figure out why your mom did what she did that you never thought to turn what you’d learned on yourself. You were overcompensating in one side of your life and crashing in the other. 

Dave held your hand a little tighter. “It’s time to become whole again.”

-

Although he didn’t show it, Aaron felt sick. The panic had knotted his insides and clouded his head with images of his little sister lying on a motel floor somewhere, choking on your own bile or with a gun in your hand. 

He hated himself for not realizing sooner. He knew the signs. He’d spent two years with you getting through your addiction. The overcompensating and avoidance made sense now. You knew, of all of the people in this office, he’d see through it and he failed. 

“She’ll be okay,” Rossi said from his seat in the corner. “She was before. She’ll find a way back.” 

Hotch shook his head. “This time is different. When Robbie died, she lost a connection to her past self. She mourned the person she used to be, but she came out of it. Now, she lost any amount of closure she could have gotten,” he sighed. “She never went and saw her, you know. Not since the trial. She said she always meant to, to understand, but she could never bring herself to do it. Now, she can’t.” 

“And with what happened in Fairfax…” Rossi blew out a breath. “She thinks there’s nothing now to stop her from becoming like Lydia.” 

“Without her mother as a tether, she thinks there’s nothing stopping her from losing herself entirely. It’s why she left Reid, why she’s been avoiding me,” Hotch said, a tone of helplessness making his voice darken. “She’s protecting us from what she thinks she’s inevitably becoming.” 

Rossi nodded and stood. He walked to the Unit Chief’s desk and put a hand on the edge. “It’s up to us to remind her that’s not what she is. And then we’ll bring her home.” 

A quiet knock at the door interrupted their thoughts. Morgan stood, tension evident in the stiff way he held his shoulders. Like the springs inside of him were waiting to break. Hotch dismissed Rossi with a nod. 

The older agent left and closed the door behind him. 

Morgan shifted uncomfortably. “Garcia tried tracking Y/N’s phone, but she’s got it blocked off somehow.”

“I helped her do that,” Hotch sighed, running a hand down his face. “I didn’t want her to have to worry about fans or copycats trying to get to her. You know what the press was like.”

“Arnold Owens was a real piece of work,” Morgan nodded. “I can’t imagine what that was like for her.” 

“It wasn’t easy, but she was always a tough kid.” The other agent made for the door, but Hotch stopped him. “Have a seat.” 

Morgan clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and took the chair across from Hotch, the deep sense of dread now mixing with his guilt. 

Hotch centered his gaze on Morgan, the seriousness of his expression softened by the sincerity in his eyes. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened in Fairfax,” Hotch said. 

Of the things Derek was expecting, that was not on the list. He just sat there, blinking for a moment. “I didn’t think that you…” There wasn’t any point in lying, so his voice trailed off. 

“I don’t blame you, Morgan. Owens was the more pressing threat. You couldn't have known the Cunninghams were waiting for her. It wasn’t your fault. Nobody thinks that, including Y/N. I know how you’ve carried it with you. I know you think that’s the reason I’ve been so hard on you and I need you to know, now, that it isn’t.” 

Morgan looked at his hands, clasped in his lap. “I know I should have said something about her drinking, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“She asked you not to and you trusted that she would make the decision on her own to seek help. And she might have, had her mother not passed away. That isn’t your fault either.” Hotch leaned forward on his desk. 

The average person may not have noticed the change in his face, the slight hint to just how worried he really was, but Morgan did.

 “I’m telling you this because I need you to have a clear head for all of this,” Hotch said. “I’m afraid you and Prentiss are the only ones who can. You saw what it’s already doing to Reid and I…” He swallowed. “I’ve seen what she’s been through before and I’m afraid this time is only going to be worse. If we all close in on her, I don’t know what she’ll do.” 

Morgan stood with new determination. “I’ll have Garcia work a new angle.” 

“I’ll be right out,” Hotch said. “I need to call Haley in case Y/N said anything to her.” 

“Wherever Y/N is, Hotch, I’m not gonna rest until I bring her back and get her help.” Morgan opened the door and stepped back out to the bullpen, finding Reid still pacing in the hall and Prentiss’ chair empty.

-

Emily

The Christmas movies continued as you downed another glass. You fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling while your hand reached for underneath the pillow. You stopped halfway, rolling your head to the side and switching your focus to the fabric on the chair. 

Somehow, your legs managed to bring you to the chair and your fingers latch onto the scarf. The soft, purple material made you feel more than you want it to. The guilt. The loneliness. The wish to have him here now like nothing happened. But that was selfish. 

Your mind traveled back to what laid underneath your pillow. 

A soft knock at the door brought you back. 

You groaned quietly and sat back down on the bed, hoping they’d just go away. The manager had checked up on you a couple of times just to make sure you paid, so it was probably just him again, even though you’d paid out for the next few days. 

“Y/N, it’s me.” 

Emily? 

“Crap,” you muttered, but the word itself hardly formed on your lips. Maybe if you were quiet enough, she’d go away. 

“Come on, I know it’s you. Open the door,” Emily boomed. She knocked again, this time louder. It made your head pound. 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” you winced. You made your way to the door, tripping slightly on the chair leg. You kept the chain locked and cracked the door open. “Hey Emily.”

She grimaced and put a hand down her nose. “God, you look like hell.” 

“What’re you doing here?” You slurred through the words and swayed on your feet. 

“Can I come in?” 

“I don’t think that’s-” The turning in your stomach cut you off. You slammed the door shut and unlatched the chain. 

“Okay, this is how we’re doing this,” Emily sighed, hurrying after you, hearing the sounds of you vomiting in the bathroom. 

She sat beside you and held your hair as if you were college girls at a party. The hand on your back soothed your sickness until you were able to sit up again. 

“I never had a big sister,” you muttered through your haze. 

Emily didn’t say anything. It broke her heart to see the strong woman she’d come to know reduced to a scared girl on the floor of a sleazy motel bathroom. She could see in your eyes, behind the drunken trance, the despair you were trying to forget. Wrapped around your hand, a long purple scarf was carefully kept off of the floor and in your lap. Even intoxicated, you seemed to protect it. 

“Isn’t it stupid?” You said, noticing her eyes on the scarf. “I stole it. His favorite scarf. I just wanted something I could hold, you know? He’s probably looking for it. Will you give it back to him?” You held it out to her with sad eyes and pouting lips. 

She lifted you off the floor. “No.”

“Why not?” 

“Because you are going to give it to him yourself,” she said. “After we sober you up, so come on.” 

“But I don’t want-”

She pushed you into the shower and turned on the stream of freezing water, ignoring your squeals of protest, only now taking the scarf from your hand. You stood in the spray of icy cold and could feel. 

You got out of the shower and were sick again. After that, Emily decided you seemed conscious enough and took you back into the room, helping you change out of your soaked clothes and forcing a glass of water down your throat. The water was followed by coffee and you switched back and forth between the two. It must have been an hour of just that. No questions. No words. Just water and coffee. 

“Why are you here?” You finally asked, pulling the blanket around your shoulders tighter.

“You’ve got a lot of worried people back home. You know that.” Emily thought back to Reid’s trance over the past few days, his terror as he paced. She handed you the scarf. 

You sniffed. “He hates me now, doesn’t he?” You abandoned him with nothing more than a note- just like his dad, just like Gideon. You didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye. At the time, you just hoped he’d never have to see you again. 

“He misses you.” 

You closed your eyes, rubbing the fabric back and forth in your hands, as if you could conjure his comfort. When you opened them again, you were still just in the motel room, sitting across from Emily’s pitying eyes. 

You blew out a long breath. “How did you even know how to find me?” 

Her expression darkened and she looked down for a moment before returning to your gaze. “Because I’d do the same thing.” This was the part she was afraid of, but she swallowed and kept a straight face. “Now… where is it?” 

You froze, fingers tightening around the scarf. You could deny it. You could say you didn’t know what she meant. But what was the point? 

Emily held out her hand. You leaned back, reached underneath the pillow, and pulled out the gun. She took it slowly, as if reaching too fast would scare you into shooting it. With one hand, she tucked it into her waistband behind her, and with the other she reached for yours. 

“I need to know- I’m not going to be upset with you- but,” she sighed, “did you come here to use this?” Her voice was filled with such sincerity, such concern, you knew you couldn’t lie. 

“I don’t know,” your words were surprisingly steady. “I just wanted to protect everyone.”

She nodded, understanding. “From you?” 

You didn’t say anything. You just turned your head to the window. She continued. 

“Y/N, I know what it’s like to be afraid of becoming just like your parents. Hell, half of the people in your life know what that’s like.” 

You scoffed. “It’s not the same thing.” 

“You’re right, it isn’t,” she said. “But I also know what it’s like to be so terrified of a part of yourself that you’d do anything to keep it hidden. You’d do anything to protect the people you love from the ugly, brokenness you feel.” She squeezed your hand a little tighter. “But all you’re going to do is hurt them.” 

Her words sunk into you like teeth, but the wall around your heart wouldn’t let them completely in. There was still that fear, the sense of inevitability that even her honest eyes couldn’t chase away. But it did make you realize something. You may not have had the strength, but you still needed a failsafe. Just in case she was wrong. 

You wiped the corner of your lip with the back of your hand. 

“I need you to call someone for me.” 

-

The office was buzzing with effort in trying to locate you. Everyone was working even harder since Prentiss just up and disappeared. 

“We know she must have gone to Fairfax,” Reid exclaimed. “Why can’t we just go find her?”

“This is all about protecting us from who she thinks she has become,” Hotch sighed. “If we charge after her, I’m afraid what measures she’d take to keep from ‘hurting’ us.” 

Reid stopped his furious scribbling on the map of the city. He turned to Hotch, wide eyed and terrified. “You don’t think she’d…”

“I think, if she’s pushed herself this close to the edge, then she’ll do anything if she believes it means not dragging us down with her.” 

Spencer let the marker fall to his side and leaned hopelessly back against the table. Statistics unmercifully filled his head. Connections between PTSD and suicide, alcholism and every other dark thought his stupid logical brain could conjure. He should have seen the signs if you had gotten this bad.

“She’s spent her whole life learning how to mask herself, Reid,” Hotch said, as if reading his mind. The older agent was thinking the same thing. He should have known you were avoiding him for a reason. 

“Guys,” Morgan rushed through the doorway, phone in his hand. “Prentiss found her.” He put the phone back to his ear and listened, expression contorting with confusion. “What are you talking about? Just bring her back.” 

Reid opened his mouth, but Morgan held up a hand to stop him. 

“Alright, alright. Text me the place and I’ll meet you there.” 

The shift in his tone made Reid and Hotch stop breathing. Hotch was the first to speak. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Morgan’s head tilted, bewildered. “Prentiss found her. Sobered her up as best she could. But she wants me to pick her up.” 

“What are we waiting for?” Reid exclaimed. “Let’s go.”

“Just me,” Morgan said. “Y/N said it’s important.” He shrugged and looked to Hotch for approval. 

Hotch nodded. “Go.”

Reid whipped his head around. “We aren’t going with him?” 

“If that’s what brings her back,” he sighed. “Yes.” 

- 

Derek

He spent the entire drive trying to wrap his head around it. Why him? Did you still think he was the only one who knew about the drinking? Why wouldn’t you want to see your brother? Or Reid, for that matter? Sure, there was a reason you left him, but of everyone in the BAU, why would you need him to come and get you. 

Derek pulled into the parking lot of the motel Prentiss sent him and spotted both of your cars in front of the room. Prentiss stood outside the door with a duffle bag and a grave expression. 

“Hey,” he greeted, getting out of his car. “What the hell is going on?” 

Prentiss shrugged. “She told me she wanted you to take her back so she could talk to you about something. She wouldn’t tell me what.” She turned to the office where you were checking out. “I’m just relieved she agreed to come back at all.” 

He blew out a long breath. “That bad, huh?” 

“I counted four empty bottles in that room,” she nodded. “And I found this.” Prentiss glanced around before pulling the gun out from her waistband. 

Derek looked down. 

“Do you think she was going to do it?” 

“Honestly…” She sighed. “I don’t think she’d see it as enough. She thinks she deserves this. Deserves being alone and miserable. She’s convinced herself that there isn’t a way out.” 

“Then why did she agree to come back at all?” He mused. 

You finished paying and walked back to where the two agents waited for you, Derek’s hard, worried face staring you down. You straightened your shoulders, determined. He was the only one that could do it. 

“Are we ready?” You asked, picking your duffle bag off of the ground. 

“I guess I’ll just meet you guys back in Quantico.” Emily said, gaze darting between the two of you. 

“Quantico?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why would I be going to Quantico?” 

“Because you called me to take you back and that’s where we’re going,” Derek said. 

You made no further argument and got in the car. 

The drive started in tense silence. You didn’t say a word, partially because every motion of the vehicle was making your head sway. You should have taken Emily up on her aspirin offer. 

“So are we gonna spend the next forty minutes in silence, or what?” He chided. 

“Why are you talking so loud?” You groaned, leaning your head against the cool window. 

“God, you’re really out of it still, aren’t you?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Sweetheart, you just spent the last four days on a bender, scaring the hell out of everyone, and breaking Reid’s heart in the process, so fine is not exactly the word I would choose.” 

“This was a bad idea,” you muttered to yourself. Your head’s pounding increased. 

“You wanted me, you’ve got me, but I’m not gonna just drive you back so you can disappear again.” 

You put a hand to your forehead. “Please stop talking.”

“Why did you need me anyway? Do you have any idea what this has been doing to Reid-”

“Pull over.” 

“What?”

“Pull over, damnit.” The ferocity of your tone was all he needed and he quickly got to the side of the road in time for you to be sick again. 

Derek stopped the car and got out, walking around to the other side where you were crouched by the passenger door, hands on your knees to hold yourself up. 

“Great,” he exhaled, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah, well, alcohol poisoning’s a bitch, Derek. I would know.” You stood back up, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Here you were, standing on the side of the road in a puddle of sick, with Derek Morgan’s famous big-brother-protective, but frustrated, gaze locked on you. 

The two of you stood there for a long time. It was just like the police station. His tough-love approach was familiar, almost comforting. It had to be him. 

He seemed to understand the shift in your gaze. “Why did you call me, Y/N?” He stepped towards you. 

“Because they love me too much,” you sighed, coming away from the car and the now soaked earth. 

“What?” 

“You’re the only one who will do it,” you said. “Because they love me too much.” 

 His eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what you meant. They widened again when he understood. “No.” 

“You’re the only one-”

“You can’t actually be serious,” he scoffed. 

“If I… change. If I do something to hurt them. I need you to-”

“That’s not how this works, Y/N. You know that. You’ve spent the last ten years studying it. You aren’t just going to wake up one day and turn into Lydia Y/L/N.” 

“I killed, Derek,” you cried. “I’m a killer. I’m already her.”

“Your mother suffered a severe psychotic break due to undiagnosed PTSD from your father’s abuse,” he said slowly. “Why are you so convinced that that’s who you are?”

“Because everything I touch dies!” 

Your hand hit his chest before you really knew what you were doing. You pushed again. 

“Arrest me.” 

“I’m not gonna do that.” 

You hit him again, this time harder. “Derek, arrest me. Stop me. Do something! Arrest me, damnit!”

“Y/N, stop.” 

“I can’t go back. You have to end it. I can’t- please- I can’t do it alone. Derek, please.”  

He caught you before you fell, holding you up against his chest as your arms fell defeated to your sides. Sobs muffled against him and tears stained his dark shirt. You kept muttering the same things over and over again until they didn’t make sense to you anymore. Derek lowered his voice to a persistent, caring whisper. 

“Y/N, running away isn’t going to save us. You can’t protect anyone by destroying yourself,” he sighed, keeping his arms locked around your shaking frame. “Or asking me to.”  

“You don’t- you don’t know that.” 

“I know you. And I know how crazy Reid and your brother are going right now worrying about you,” he said, still holding on. “They aren’t afraid of you, sweetheart. They’re afraid of losing you.” He pulled back, tucking a finger under your chin to lift your head. “If I don’t bring you back, that kid is going to lose his mind, you hear me?” He smiled slightly. “I know the fight you’ve got in your head isn’t one that I can just pull you out of, even though I want to. But that’s the thing, Y/N. You have to keep fighting.”

You closed your eyes, more tears cascading down your cheeks. He kissed your forehead. “Let’s take you home, okay? I talked to Garcia and she said we can use her office and you can tell me everything. Or you can say nothing. It’ll be up to you.” 

With a deep breath, you nodded, opened the car door and climbed inside. 

-

(I know I forgot to post last week, I'm sorry!)

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

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Just Acting

18+ story | all chapters in master list

Chapter Fourteen

After filming today, you and Matthew are going to hang out. And you're so looking forward to it!

Delilah rests her head on Spencer's chest as they watched tv on the couch. It's the weekend, Delilah took a day off and Spencer wasn't called in for a case. Instead of going on a date, the two decided to stay in and just enjoy each other's company.

Delilah pushed herself off of Spencer with her hand on his chest. She sat back on her knees staring down at him.

"What?" Spencer asks, looking up to her.

"You're so pretty," she says.

"Thank you?" He furrows his brows with a smile.

"You're very welcome,” Delilah grins proudly.

"Come here, beautiful." He says, opening his arms back for her to lay back down. She obliges, laying her head on Spencer's chest after giving him a soft kiss on his mouth.

____

You go home before anyone else since you don't have anymore scenes for the day. You stop by Dunkin to get a coffee, and sadly see that Jess is off today. You head back to your apartment.

When you get home, you plop down on the couch dreading the night ahead of you. It's around 4 o'clock in the afternoon when you get a text from Matthew saying he can't wait for tonight. The text is paired with two emojis, a smile and the eggplant. He’s so fucking weird.

You hang out around the apartment, watching tv, snacking a bit, and cleaning up, until around 6 when you decide to take a shower. You press play on your favorite playlist which consists of 90s R&B, modern day sad shit, and some random other songs.

You step into the shower, letting the water soak you. You wash your hair and body, shave a bit, wash your face, and step out to moisturize. While still wrapped in the towel, you apply product to your hair, scrunch it, and tie in up in a wrap.

Time to pick out an outfit. You slip on a pair of light blue underwear and a white bra, you couldn't find the matching set and quite frankly don’t care. No one will be seeing what’s underneath your clothes tonight anyway.

You rummage through your closet, searching for something decent to wear. You don't really know what you're doing for this "hanging out" shit, but you know you should probably dress... not in sweats. You grab a pair of black jeans from your dresser, a white t shirt with a floral design at the neckline, and a loose fitting bomber jacket. Just before doing your makeup, you slip into the jeans. You apply a light makeup look and take your hair out of the wrap, the light curls fall down nicely. You get dressed in the rest of your clothes and slip into a pair of white converse.

Matthew shows up not long after with a knock on your apartment door. "Ready for our date?" he leans against the door frame, almost stumbling over.

You roll your eyes. "Not a date." You grab your cross-body purse, and head out the door, not waiting for him.

"Definitely a date,” he says confidently.

"Not a date," you turn around, pointing your finger at him.

He puts his hands up in surrender, and the two of you head down to the parking lot. He opens the door for you, and you get into the passenger's seat.

"Well that was nice.”

"Yes. Spencer seems to be much nicer than I am,” Matthew winks while starting up the car.

"So where are we going?" You say when you get into the night traffic of Los Angeles.

"That’s a surprise.”

You look over to him. "Where?"

"Just to a little restaurant then we're going to watch a movie,” he tells you.

"What movie?"

"Damn can't you let anything be on the whim?"

"No,” you say frankly.

"Uptight," Matthew says under his breath.

"Say that again, and you won't have a tongue to say anything else."

"Feisty,” he says with a grin in your direction.

You watch his hands turn the steering wheel and turn into the parking lot of a small Japanese restaurant. You get out and follow him into the building.

He decides to sit at the bar, which you are perfectly fine with because you might need a strong one to get through the night.

Only a few other people are in the building, which is kind of good and kind of not good in case he makes you mad.

His knee brushes yours as he swivels in the high chair like a child. You order a water and try to decide what you want to eat. Since everything else seems kind of new and strange, you decide on vegetarian sushi. Matthew gets some dish that looks kind of good and off-putting at the same time.

"You two are a cute couple," the handsome japanese man behind the bar says to the two of you.

"O, we're not couple,” you tell him.

"Yes we are," Matthew says to the man.

"No we're not," you glare at him.

"Delilah and Spencer.”

"We're a couple," you turn to the man with an agitated smile.

"That's the spirit," Matthew grabs your hand.

"You're pushing it, Gubler,” you say through a gritted smile.

The two of you eat in silence for most of the dinner. You laugh as Matthew tries to eat with chopsticks.

"Okay! Let's go," Matthew hops out of his seat and offers his hand out to you. He'd paid the bill already.

You don't take his hand but get down from your chair. He walks out of the building, you trail behind.

The movie theater isn't too far away. When you get there, he asks the lady outside for two tickets to a movie you've never heard of.

"What's the movie about?”

"I don't know,” Matthew shrugs.

"You don't know?"

"C'mon, Delilah. Maybe it'll be good,” he grins softly.

You press your lips together with a sigh and follow him into the theater.

As the movie unfolds, you're face goes from expression to expression, mostly confusion and disgust.

Finally, the credits roll in, and Matthew looks down at you. "Let's go," he has a big smile on his face.

"What the fuck was that?" You ask, your eyebrows still knit with confusion. He laughs when you're on your way back to his car.

"I'm so confused! Were they aliens?” You ask again.

He laughs again, "I don't even know."

You chuckle. "I knew I should've picked out the movie."

"Yeah probably. I'm surprised you sat through that whole thing,” he says.

The two of you laugh as you get back into his car. He drives back to your apartment with music playing.

"You know that wasn't half bad," you admit at your door.

"The movie definitely was,” Matthew objects.

"Yes, yes it was," you chuckle.

"Goodnight, Y/n.”

You pull his head down to you and press your lips to his. When the kiss is over, he looks at you with wide eyes and a little smile.

"Goodnight, Gubler."

With that, he leaves down the hall, and you shut your apartment door. What. Just. Happened.

You just- why did you do that?

You plop down on your couch after taking off your jacket. You see you have a missed call and a message from Jordan.

"Hey, Y/n. I'm at your door. Surprise date!!"

Shit. What have you done?

——

"What the fuck did I do?” You pace back and forth in your apartment.

"I'm here! I'm here!" Your friend walks into your apartment.

"Oh thank God, Jess!!" You close the door quickly.

"What's wrong?"

"It's official. I'm a whore."

She bursts out with a laugh. "What?"

"So you know how I said the lake trip wasn't horrible, and how Matthew was alright for the most part. Well, we made out. On his bed. While I straddled him. And I'm like freaking out again because we hung out today for our job like I told you about. Anyway, I kissed him. I fucking kissed him before he left. Then I read this text from Jordan and I'm like what is wrong with me…”

"Y/n, slow down. You're talking faster than the Chipmunks,” she exclaims.

You take a breath. "Right. Sorry."

"Okay so you two made out?” Jess asks, her eyebrows raised.

You nod your head harshly.

"Then you kissed him tonight?"

You nod your head again, hating this clarifying questions.

"And the text from Jordan was?”

"He was being sweet. He wanted to take me on a surprise date."

"You hate surprises,” she says.

"I do, but it's the thought that counts."

Jess releases a chuckle. "So what are you going to do?"

"That's why I called you,” you tell her.

"Y/n, you're 33 years old. Be a big girl and break up with Jordan. I can tell you don't like him."

You sigh. "He's a really nice guy."

"But…”

"But he's too... I don't know. Not for me I guess,” you tell her.

"There ya go."

"I'll break up with him. Tomorrow,” you say.

"You go girl! Dump some ass!"

"Oh my god, don't say it like that!" Your palm meets your face.

She laughs again, and makes her way to your fridge.

____

Today's the day. You're going to do it. You're going to dump Jordan. How hard can this be? You haven't been together that long, and things haven’t been serious.

"Hey. I need to talk to you. Meet me at the cafe on Melrose." You press send with a sigh.

"Great! See you then:)"

Oh no.

You get ready in ripped jeans, a black crop top that kind of makes you think too hard about the pudge on your tummy, but it's the fit that matters, and a flannel over it. You slip on your white sneakers, grab your bag, and head out of your apartment.

"Hey, Y/n!" He gives you a hug and a kiss on the lips.

"Jordan, hey,” you say awkwardly.

"You needed to talk to me?"

"Yes I do... I don't think we should see each other any more.”

"What?"

"It's just not working out for me. You're a great guy, it's just- Are you crying?"

"No,” he says defensively.

"Your eyes are tearing up,” you say with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not crying."

"We were together a month.”

"I thought things were going good,” Jordan says.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want to be in a relationship I'm not invested in. You deserve better than that."

"Okay," he sighs, nodding.

"Goodbye, Jordan." You put your hand on his shoulder after you stand up.

"Bye, Y/n. And tell him."

"Hmm?"

"Tell him. There's someone else. I can tell."

You shake your head, then turn and walk out of the cafe. You make your way to set.

You rush to hair and makeup, knowing you're running behind. They straighten your hair and put on your usual Delilah makeup look.

You change into black jeans with a belt buckle showing through a mostly tucked in blouse underneath a loose fitting grey blazer jacket. You're wearing black heeled boots.

There's a few scenes to film today, a few including you.

mature content warning

____

"Marc is going to be watching over you guys for a while. If you have any questions, ask him or call me if it's an emergency." Delilah grabs her bag, and heads out of her building.

She drives her way to the Behavioral Analysis Unit where her boyfriend Spencer works. They've officially been calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, and it feels so good to say the word even if labels don't really mean that much.

She reaches the floor, seeing everyone in the bullpen. Spencer said he'd just gotten home from a case a few hours ago and was doing paperwork. Delilah knew how fast he was at reading, so she figured he'd be done by now.

"What are you doing here?" He rises from his desk with a smile.

"You've been to my work, so I figured I'd visit you at yours." She'd had permission of course to be let up to the BAU's floor.

He wraps his arms around her. "Well, I appreciate it."

She gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Of course."

"Give me one moment, and I'll be able to leave."

Delilah nods her head. She waits for Spencer to return from his bosses office as she stands sort of awkwardly at his desk.

"So you're the girl that's been making genius smile all the damn time." Delilah turns around to see a muscular hispanic man. "I swear he's like a freaking puppy."

Delilah chuckles. "I'm Delilah." She shakes his hand.

"You're the girl from the case a few months ago!"

A thin blonde haired girl elbows the asian man in the side. "Nice to formally meet you, Delilah."

She smiles at them. "Nice to meet you guys again, under better circumstances."

Spencer comes back into the bullpen, and goes to Delilah's side.

"I knew there was someone ha!" JJ says.

"Yeah, yeah. You caught me." He smiles down at his girlfriend. "You ready to go?"

"No, stay. Talk a bit. Tell us secrets," the attractive male agent jokes.

Delilah gives them a wave goodbye, and Spencer leads her to the elevator.

___

"How's it going?"

"Well I just broke up with my boyfriend, so… fine actually.”

"I forgot you had a boyfriend," Matthew says bluntly.

"So did I apparently," you admit.

He laughs. "Wow."

"Hey, about last night..."

"I know. You didn't mean it,” he nods.

"I don't know,” you say, voice soft.

"What do you mean?”

"I don't know. I mean I literally can't stand you half the time, but for some reason it felt right."

"Thank you?" His eyebrows stitch together.

You chuckle a sigh, running your hand through your hair. "It's been one confusing week."

Matthew steps closer to you. "You could say that."

You stand there. Unable to move or say anything. You feel like you could reach your hand out and feel the tension.

He takes another step closer, his eyes appearing darker. “Can I?"

You nod your head, chest feeling heavy. His hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes meet his light brown ones for a second before his mouth comes down on yours. It's gentle at first, but as your mouths move as one the heat burns up.

Soon enough, you're taking off his shirt as he unbuckles the belt on your waist. He breaks the kiss once more to remove the blouse from your body after the jacket comes off. You raise your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt up.

Matthew presses you up against the door of your trailer. One hand is on your waist, the other behind your neck, tangled in your hair. You reach behind you and lock the door. You move your hands to his hair, twirling his curls in your fingers as your lips and tongues move together in a burning sensation.

You shove him off of you and glare up at him. "Sit down."

He gives you a confused look, lips kiss-swollen.

"Sit."

He obliges with a sarcastic "Yes ma'am."

"If we're going to do this, I'm in charge,” you command.

He looks up at you with a look that can only mean he's turned on. You get on your knees in front of him. He's leaning against the couch, lying in wait of what you're going to do. You pull at his boxers, and he leans up, letting you take them off.

Before he can even make a sound, you're mouth is on his growing bulge. You hear Matthew take in a ragged breath. You bob your head, and after a moment, you stop. Completely stop with no explanation.

"You're evil," he says, breathing heavy.

You grin faintly, and hand him a condom you got from the drawer in your trailer.

You take your black underwear off and straddle his lap. You'll definitely regret this later, but for now it's just you and him. You come down on him, moving your hips back and forth gently and pacing up and down at the same time.

He throws his head back, his hands digging into your hips. The moment is kind of sloppy and fast, you don’t even kiss as you fuck him. After a while, your nails scratch at his shoulders as you finish.

You get off of him, and grab your clothes. You head to the bathroom, clean yourself off, and get dressed again. Your hair is a mess. After wiping under your eyes, you return to the room to see Matthew putting his shirt back on.

"Well,” you start, releasing an exasperated. “That was…”

"Something."

"Yes," you say. "Something."

"A good something,” Matthew says.

Your nod your head. You walk over to him, and fix his messy hair. He chuckles with a flushed face.

"What do we do now?" He asks, looking down at you.

"We move on with our lives," you say. "You should probably leave. We've both been away too long."

He nods, curly brown hair falling into his eyes. He looks out the window of your trailer, and once he knows the coast is clear, he leaves. You adjust the pillows on your couch where you and Matthew literally just did it.

This is so crazy. Never in a million years did you think you'd be in this position. You just had sex with the man who’s been the very person who pisses you off the post for months.

You hang Delilah's clothes up. You get out of your trailer, not talking to anyone as you head to your car and go home. You groan loudly as you grip onto the steering wheel.

fifteen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @danis-stuff-is-here @kylakins88 @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 <3

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #mgg x you #spencer reid #mgg fic #spencer reid smut #mgg angst #spencer reid and reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew grey gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler smut #mattew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x fem!readr #matthew gray gubler x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler angst #mgg fem!reader #mgg x y/n #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #dilf spencerreid #spencer reid hands #spencer reid series #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff

[cecethinks]

Character list💫

Fluff-🩰

Smut-🦢

angst-🪴

Blurb/one shot-🐞

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers 

Andy barber

-

Andrew Garfield 

Tasm! peter Parker

-

Jim Halpert

-

Matthew Gray Grubler

Spencer Reid

Emily prentiss

Jennifer Jareau

-

Fezco

Angus Cloud  Coworkers (Fem reader🩰)

Maddy Perez

Nate Jacobs 

Lexi Howard

- 

These are some of the characters that I will write for in the future. FYI I will be using she/ her pronounce but it will still be X Reader!

I’m very new to using Tumblr and I have previously only used wattpad, so I’m still getting accustom to a lot of things. 

If you have any specific requests please contact me, (it can be according a character you want me to write about or a specific story.)

#fezco euphoria #fez #fezco #fezco fanfic #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber #andy barber x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #jim halpert x reader #jim halpert #mattew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau #fez x reader #angus cloud x reader #angus cloud #maddy perez #maddy perez x reader #nate jacobs #lexi howard

[emthereal]

I currently have zero inspiration.....so some requests would be nice.... :)

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED NOW

(look at my main masterlist for who i currently write for)

#fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #bucky barnes x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #mattew gray gubler x reader #chris evans x reader #timothée fanfic #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader

[fandom-monium]

hi! can i request some fluff with reader taking care of a sick reid pls? I love your fics 🧡

AN: Thank you!! Hope yall dont mind i switched it around :))

Doctor Nurse Reid

Summary: In which you get sick and Spencer looks after you. "I don't mind germs if they're from you."

WC: 2.1k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, poor badass Reader got a fever :(, fluff, mutual pining you know me :))

—

Something's wrong.

The thought crosses Spencer's mind like a lightning bolt, alarming enough it makes him look up from his morning reading to glance around the bullpen. Coworkers sitting at their desks, others sipping coffee in the kitchen, but no one's running around like there's a fire. Nothing stands out.

But something's wrong and he knows it. He's just not sure what. It makes him itch.

He runs through his morning routine. Socks mismatched—check. His morning coffee from his favorite coffee shop—check. He came in early—also check. Okay, he's good at least. He carefully scans the office again.

The blinds partially open, he can see Hotch bent over his desk so severely he has half a mind to warn him he'll develop scoliosis. Rossi is in his own office doing... whatever Rossi does. JJ and Emily's desks are empty, but they left a few minutes ago for Garcia's cave, and Derek slouches in his chair, fiddling with a pencil as if it'll do a trick. And you—

Your desk is empty.

"Hey, did you see (Your Name) come in yet?" He asks Derek, trying to keep his tone casual. Sometimes he gets caught up in his reading to notice the world around him. Maybe Derek saw you.

But he shrugs, twirling his chair around. "Nope. But don't worry, Reid. I'm sure (Your Name) will come in any minute now."

He sputters, "Worried? Pshhh—who said I was worried?"

Derek raises an eyebrow at him before spinning his chair again.

Perfectly normal. Nice. Spencer mentally pats himself on the back. He's probably right, he thinks, turning back to his own work. They've all been late to work before, and you're no exception. Granted, this is the latest you have ever been, but he won't judge you. Everyone has their reasons.

But a few minutes turn into half an hour, and half an hour turns into one, until eventually they're called into the conference room, quickly debriefed because the case is urgent. Hotch wants them on the plane yesterday.

Before he has the chance to even bring you up, Hotch calls to him, "Hey, Reid, (Your Name) isn't answering their phone. I want you to check on them. "

"But—"

"You have a key to their apartment right?"

"Well, yes—"

"Perfect. Don't worry about us, you can video call with Garcia," Finality in his tone, Hotch strides out of the room, following behind the others, who try to hide impish grins.

Spencer blinks owlishly, frozen in the empty conference room.

—

Should he be mad at his team for leaving him behind?

Yes.

Is he mad?

No.

If Spencer's being honest, any anger or annoyance he initially felt goes out the window, replaced with excitement as he carefully makes his way down the hall towards your apartment, like you'll burst through your door any second, guns blazing at an attacker or something. Anything's possible with you. Then he realizes—

He's at your apartment. Alone.

The thought nearly sends him hyperventilating.

He shakes his head, reminding himself he's been to your place before, that he's there to check on you and not, as Derek would say, "put the moves" on you. He is there out of concern for a colleague—a friend—so when he reaches your door, he meekly knocks, "(Your Name)? It's me."

No answer.

Frowning, he knocks again before letting himself in.

At least your apartment seems untouched. Appliances off, curtains drawn with windows locked shut, and your clothes strewn here and there (he cracks his neck looking away from your underwear atop a pile of laundry), but nothing warrants concern.

So, where the hell are you?

Padding down the hallway to your bedroom door, he softly knocks, calling you. Again, no reply, and worry bubbles in him as he enters your room.

Only for it to fizzle out when he sees a very you-shaped lump in the center of your bed.

Spencer's shoulders drop in relief. "(Your Name)."

The lump shifts slightly.

Well, that's something. Stepping over more clothes and your half open go-bag, he stands at your bedside and gently shakes you. "(Your Name), wake up."

Something between a gurgle and snarl. He shakes you harder.

"Mmm..." You peek out from under the blankets, bleary-eyed. You croak, "Reid?"

"Good morning," He says, smiling down at you.

Had this been any other day, his smile would have made your heart jump, make you squeal so loud your neighbors would complain, or send you spiraling into embarrassment because Spencer's here in your room. You must look like a mess and—shit—you haven't cleaned since god knows when.

But then your head throbs and you groan, ducking back under the sheets like a turtle. Fuck how messy everything must look.

"Are you okay? Your face is flushed," Spencer asks, voice muffled above you. You feel him tug at your blankets and you pull them tighter around you. Your cheeks burn.

"I'll be fine. Just go ahead without me, I'll meet you at work."

"The team already left."

Your eyes shoot open and you immediately sit up, "Wha—ack!" You clutch the side of your head, your vision swimming.

Spencer's already at your side as he rests a hand on your back, brow furrowed in concern. "Yeah, Hotch said you weren't answering your phone, so he sent me to check on you."

"But—"

Without thinking he presses the back of his hand to your forehead and his frown deepens, "You're burning up. Have you eaten yet?"

Your lips part in surprise, eyes heavy as you stare at Spencer. Touch never came easy to him, but his palm is a cool relief against your skin, and you hope the heat rising to your face is from the oncoming fever. "Uh no, I haven't."

"Okay, you lay back down while I update everyone," He says, stepping into the hall. "Then I'll make tea. How do you feel about peppermint?"

"Thanks, Reid, seriously, but I can do it myself," You say as you struggle to push off your blankets, the strength in your arms sapped out of you. The last thing you want is to trouble him.

But before you can set foot out of bed, Spencer repeats himself, his unusually stern voice making you freeze, "I said, lay down. I'll make tea, okay?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, he shuts the door behind him, and you fall back into your pillows, scratching your head.

... Yep, the heat is definitely from the fever.

—

“I see. We'll be back in a few days, so there's no problem,” Hotch crackles through the phone.

“Allright."

“…Is there something else, Reid?”

"Ummm..."

"...You don't know how to set up for a video call, don't you." It's not a question.

"I do not, no."

"...Call Garcia. We'll talk soon."

"Thanks, Hotch."

"Of course. And Reid?"

"Yes?"

"Tell (Your Name) we hope they feel better soon."

"I will."

—

“Open your mouth.”

You purse your lips together, arms crossed as you meet his gaze with defiance.

Spencer holds the thermometer closer to your lips, “Seriously, (Your Name), open your mouth.”

You shake your head, turning away.

He squints at you, “Are you a child?”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Yes. Now open up, so I can take your temperature and diagnose you!”

“Doctor, my ass.‌ You can’t diagnose shit!” You hiss before hiding under your covers.

Counting down, Spencer huffs, slowly easing his death-grip on the thermometer.

He’s so glad he’s not a medical doctor.

—

“Where do you keep your medicine?” Spencer asks, looming at the threshold.

You avoid eye contact.

He guffaws, “You don't have any medicine?”

“I don’t get sick.”

“And you’d call this…?”

“Listen, this is just like when I get a soar throat or a stuffy nose—”

“Both of which you have.”

“It’ll pass!” You rasp, coughing into your sleeve. Spencer cringes. “Eventually."

Rolling his eyes, he steps into your bathroom, not bothering to ask for permission as he rifles through your medicine cabinet. Nothing. By the time he stumbles upon the single bottle of tylennol, he’s already gone through your hallway and kitchen cabinets. Sighing in relief because at least you own some medicine, he picks it up and checks the label.

It’s expired.

He chucks it into the trash bin.

—

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to make a corner for himself in your apartment, setting his old laptop on your kitchen counter (away from your laundry) with Penelope’s tech support. He’s down the hall from your room, far enough any noise he makes shouldn’t disturb you, but close enough he can still keep an eye on you. It’s the perfect spot.

“I was studying the crime scene photos, and I thought the symbol looked familiar, ” Spencer says, the case files laid out on the floor and on the counter. “I looked into it and they’re definitely ritualistic in nature—”

On the screen, the team nods in understanding as Spencer continues, following him and his hand gestures as closely as they can, until at some point in his info dump, he notices the team’s focus shift, their grim moods changing. Penelope's lips are barely suppressed into a smile, Emily’s fist covers her grin, Derek and JJ exchange knowing looks, while Hotch and Rossi smirk, trying to mask their own amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

The front door creeks. Spencer whirls around, and his heart drops, “(Your Name), what are you doing out of bed?”

So close. You flinch, shutting the door. “I’m going to work, obviously.”

“You’re sick.”

“No, you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. And I thought the medicine would’ve knocked you out by now.”

“Jokes on you, I’m resistant to most poisons!”

“It’s medicine; it’s supposed to help!” Spencer pinches his brow, sliding off the stool to herd you away from the door. He feels a headache coming on. “You know what? Nevermind, let’s just get you back to bed.”

You snort, gently batting his hands away, “I don’t need you to baby me.”

“I’m not babying you, I’m showing you I care,” He retorts as he ushers you back towards the bedroom.

Without either of you realizing, the team watches the entire scene unfold, hearts warming as their teammates bicker. And when Spencer returns, he notices the odd looks they give him.

“What?”

Penelope giggles, “You two fight like an old married couple.” Everyone collectively agrees.

Spencer pouts, ignoring their jests as he falls back into his rant, making them go back to work.

But for the first time in his life, he nearly squees.

—

"I know I haven't said it yet, but thank you for taking care of me, Reid," You sniff, wrapping the blankets closer to you as you lay in bed. Your bedside lamp bathes your room in a warm light, casting shadows and contouring the sides of your face. It's already late, but the teams called enough times that you know the case is a tough one, tougher without their best minds constantly present. You blink the sleep from your eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll even do your paperwork for the rest of the week."

Spencer sets a fresh cup of tea on your bedside table before raising an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you snuck some of your paperwork into mine yesterday."

"...I don't recall."

He chuckles, sitting next to you, "It's okay, you don't owe me anything."

"But I do," Covering a yawn, you snuggle deeper into your blankets, "You're the biggest germaphobe I know, I doubt you wanted to be around me like this."

As you shift into a comfortable position, sleep finally catching up to you, Spencer's lips part to reply, but his throat closes as he realizes that for almost the entire time he was here, not once was he concerned of germs or contamination or dirt, at least not on himself.

His only concern was you.

After a pause, he mumbles, "I don't mind germs if they're from you." Blushing, he turns away, heartbeat in his ears as he holds his breath, waiting for you to respond. Or reject. Shit, he wants to keel over and die—

Snore.

His shoulders sag in relief. Carefully removing himself from your bed, he turns off the bedside lamp before placing a kiss at the top of your head, shutting the door quietly. His footsteps fade down the hall.

In the dark, you squeal into your pillow.

—

AN: Hi! Anyone else try to be more productive when they're sick?

As for my little absence, college was kicking my ass, and I needed to focus on career decisions and stuff. Now that I'm writing again, I started this as a warm up and ended up going over my word limit by a lot hehehe. Hopefully I finish Battle Tactics part 2 soon...

This was inspired partially by @spacedikut's Nurse Reid fic, if you couldn't tell by the title :D))

Hope you enjoyed!

—

Bonus Scene:

—

“A-choo!“

You hand him another tissue, wincing. “Sorry.”

Voice throaty, Spencer dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand, “No, no I did this to myself, but I appreciate you coming to look after me, even though you’re all better now.”

“Of course I would. Besides,” You hand him a cup of tea this time, and he takes a sip, humming. You smirk, “I don’t mind germs if they’re from you.”

Spencer chokes on his tea.

#spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #mgg x oc #criminal mind x oc #spencer reid fic #mgg fic #matthew gray gubler x read #mattew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler fic #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg imagine #criminal minds imagine #queue still here?

[prettyboyreid]

not clickbait!

Matthew finally agrees to make a YouTube video with his girlfriend.

Warnings: none, just fluff :)

Word Count: 6,493

Special thanks to all of the anons who gave me nickname ideas :)

“Please, Matthew?  It’s just this one time, I promise,” you pleaded with him, following your boyfriend around like a lost puppy through your house as you did your best to get him to join you for one of your YouTube videos.  

You were quickly approaching your YouTube channel’s three year anniversary, and you wanted to do something special for it.  While you had been dating Matthew for nearly five years, he’d never once made an appearance in a video.  You posted about him on other social media platforms and he posted about you - you even made a brief appearance in the second season of his Unauthorized Documentaries - but he always turned you down when you offered to have him join you on a challenge or a “Get Ready With Me” video.

This time, however, you weren’t taking no for an answer.

“I don’t know, angel.  It doesn’t really seem like a good idea,” he said, mindlessly wandering into your kitchen before leaning against the granite counter.  You gave him a soft pout, positioning yourself between his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Matthew has always been hesitant with your relationship in the public eye.  There’s fifteen years between the two of you, and he was always overprotective of you, especially when it came to the media.  He knew how harsh some people could be and didn’t want anyone attacking either of you because of your relatively large age gap.  It took about two years before he finally gave in and posted pictures of the two of you on social media, making your relationship “public.”   You didn’t really have a problem with waiting so long; you thought it was sweet that he cared so much.  Besides, it was nice to have him to yourself for a little while. 

You had yet to convince him to accompany you in a video.  You were an open book with your followers and subscribers - they were a big part of your life.  You wanted them to know about you and Matthew, and you thought the best way to do so was having him in a video with you.  A person can be completely different in a video than they appear in a photo.

“Come on, Matty,” you groaned, drawling out the last syllable as you let your head fall back in frustration.  You felt his hands move to your hips and squeeze softly, sighing heavily at your insistent nature. 

“Okay!  Okay, fine, I’ll do a video with you,” he said tilting your head back up by your chin so you could look at him again with a bright smile.  “What video are we doing?  You’re not going to strap me to the side of a rickety old airplane or anything, right?” he asked.  

He looked genuinely worried you would force him to do something dangerous for a moment.

You rolled your eyes a bit at his dramatic assumption, letting your fingers lace through his light brown hair as you looked up at him.  “No, I’m not,” you promised him, leaning up on the tips of your toes to press a quick kiss to the end of his nose.

His face scrunched up a bit into a teasing frown at the odd sign of affection, shifting his weight a bit while his hands traveled up the bottom hem of your t-shirt so his fingers could trace along your skin.  “Alright, no airplane.  What did you have in mind, then?”  he asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked down at you.  

You silently noted the way his pupils grew nearly twice their size when he looked at you.

You shrugged, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.  “I was thinking just a simple Q&A video…” you began, your voice trailing off as you second-guessed the rest of your idea for the bi-weekly video you planned to execute with Matthew. 

He raised an eyebrow slightly as he saw you hesitate, folding his arms across his chest with a soft huff out of his nose.  “And what?  I know there’s something else there,” he asked.  You were notorious for having more than one element to your videos, so he knew you wouldn’t settle for just sitting in the spare room you converted to your shooting room and read off random questions with him for thirty minutes.  Besides, you both knew he would get antsy and want to do something with his hands.  He was restless all the time, and you would need a way to keep him busy.

“I was thinking… I could have you do my makeup while we answered the questions?” you suggested to him, though it came out sounding more like a question than anything.  You watched nervously as his brows furrowed together as he thought it over before smiling brightly.  He wrapped his arms tightly around you before pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head with a hum.

“I think it sounds like a great idea, bunny,” he said, swaying the two of you back and forth for a moment as he hugged you.  You rested your head against his chest with a smile, happy you had finally convinced him to join you for a project of your own.  

“I’m glad you think so,” you said, pulling away as you looked up at him.  His features from your point of view were shadowy, yet still very definitive.  He really didn’t have any bad angles, in your eyes.  

He leaned down with a grin before pressing a few soft kisses all over your face, his short stubble tickling your cheeks.  You giggled softly at the sensation as you pulled away, hiding your face in his shoulder.  You heard his soft chuckle as you checked the time on your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the stairs of your shared home. 

“Come on, I need to at least show you what goes where so you don’t completely ruin my makeup,” you teased him with a smile, looking back at him over your shoulder to see a smile on his lips that matched your own.

The next morning, you tweeted out for people to tweet you and Matthew questions for the upcoming video.  The two of you spent the next day choosing the questions you were going to answer, writing down the username of the person who asked it and the actual question they had for you.  

You came to a compromise when you picked out the questions: the two of you would pick five together, and each of you would individually pick out five.  You thought it would be fun to see what kinds of questions he would pick out for the video, and you found a few that you thought would at least earn a laugh from him. 

He thought it would be a good idea to take the questions and put them on pieces of paper, cut them up, and pick them at random from a hat.  He hardly gave you time to agree before he began to write down the questions in his chicken scratch onto ripped up pieces of yellow legal paper.

After you had all of the questions in order, he helped you set up the spare room on the second floor so you could film the next day.  He helped you hang up the pale blue sheet you usually had for the backgrounds for your videos, and dragged the coffee table upstairs so you could have a place to put all of your makeup.  You got some foldable chairs you kept in one of the junk closets along with seasonal decorations and items that needed to go to the thrift store, setting them up across from his camera (that he insisted on using) so they were in the line of sight.  It took you much longer than it should have to set up the shot, but you didn’t expect anything less from your director boyfriend. 

Since you didn’t finish setting up the room until about 9:45, you decided you would just film the next day.  

Matthew insisted on having a late night snack of a pint of ice cream - one for each of you, of course.  You quickly found out he was just trying to figure out which questions you had picked out.  You two bickered back and forth for what felt like hours as he tried to figure out which ones you wanted to surprise him with.

“Did you choose the one that asked about how the sex is?”

“Jesus, Gube!  No, I didn't.  Why, did you?” you retorted, eating another spoonful of the frozen dessert as you teased him. 

He rolled his eyes before shaking his head, his grown out hair shaking with each movement.  “No, but I’ll tell you one of the ones I picked if you tell me one of yours, sunshine,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his own as he finished the pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, setting the empty container on the table at the end of the couch, since your coffee table was currently upstairs covered in cosmetics. 

You huffed out at his attempts to barter with you, shaking your head as you grabbed the two empty pints before heading off to the kitchen.  “That wouldn’t make it much of a surprise then, would it?”  you asked him, rinsing out the containers before tossing them in the recycling bin beneath the kitchen sink.  You jumped slightly as you felt a pair of long, lanky arms snake around your waist, grinning as his lips tickled against your neck as he kissed your skin softly.

“Just one question, pretty please,” he asked, dragging out the phrase to try and guilt you into giving in.  You tutted at his all but frugal attempts to break you, slipping out of his grasp quickly.

“For the last time, nope,” you said, popping the “p” before smacking his ass playfully.  You grinned at the shocked expression your actions earned from your boyfriend.  “Now come on sweet cheeks, we should get some rest before your big YouTuber debut,” you teased, lacing your hands with his as you walked him up the stairs. 

He chuckled a little bit, both at the nickname and your excuse for why you needed to get to bed relatively early.  “Whatever you say, sunshine,” he replied, his arm snaking back around your waist as you made your way closer to your shared bedroom.

You would never describe Matthew as one to get camera shy, especially given his career.  But as you two got dressed and got ready the next morning, he was pacing your room as he buttoned up one of his patterned short-sleeved shirts.

“Do you think this is a good idea?  I feel like this might be a little premature.  I don’t even think your audience likes me.  Jesus, what if I ruined you by being on your channel?”  He voiced every possible thing that could go wrong, redoing the buttons at least three times as he messed them up from his brain being preoccupied.

You stood up from your seat at your vanity, setting down your hairbrush as you made your way to the pacing man.  You rested your hands on his upper arms to stop him in his repetitive path, forcing him to look down at you. 

“You’ll be fine, bug,” you reassured him, leaning up and kissing his nose softly.  “You know they love you already.  I promise that you’re going to be great, okay?” you told him, pushing some of his curls out of his eyes as you gave him a bright smile.

You watched as his nervous expression softened as you fed him words of encouragement, letting out a soft sigh before kissing the top of your head.  “Okay… okay.  Can we do this now?  I feel like I’m going to back out of this if we wait any longer,” he asked.  You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment, nodding softly before leading him out of the room and down the hall. 

He sat down in one of the seats as you made sure the camera and lighting was alright, pressing the record button before sitting down in your own seat.  You grinned over at him, watching as he nervously fidgeted with the Alvin and the Chipmunks hat in his hands that held your questions. 

“You ready?” you asked him, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear as you double checked that you had everything.  He looked up from the bright red hat that had entranced him before nodding, setting it down on the coffee table before he looked back over to you.  You smiled over at him before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. You turned towards the camera a second later, flashing a bright smile as you adjusted the way you sat so you’d be at a better angle. 

“Hey guys!” you greeted enthusiastically to the camera, giving a little wave as well.  “Welcome back to a new video!  Today I have a very special guest with me; my boyfriend, Matthew,” you introduced, glancing over at him with a smile.  You watched him adoringly as you watched him give his own little wave, watching his cheeks turn a pale shade of pink.

“Hello!” he said with enthusiasm that rivaled yours, despite his little voice crack in the middle of the word.  You grinned a little bit before turning back to the camera, crossing your left leg over your right.

You finished up the intro to the video rather quickly, just explaining what you guys would be doing and thanking everyone for sending in questions.  After a few moments you turned back to Matthew, grabbing the red hat from the coffee table.  “You ready?” you asked him, smiling as he nodded and began to look through the makeup.

You sifted through the questions to shuffle them up, laughing a bit as you noticed how focused he was on the products in front of him.  “What do I even start with?” he asked you, picking up a concealer and a tube of mascara. 

“Start wherever you want, bub,” you smiled, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as you unfolded the first question, watching him untwist the cap of the mascara tube.

“Okay, @y/ngoobler asked, ‘How and where did you two meet?’” you said, grinning as he intricately began to apply the black substance to your lashes with a bright smile at the question.

“Can I answer this one?” he asked you in a soft voice.  You giggled a bit at his timidness, but nodded quickly before watching his face light up.  “Okay, okay, so about five and a half years ago, I went to a panel with my costar, AJ Cook,” he began, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he continued to apply the mascara very generously to your already long lashes.  

“Y/N was there with a friend of hers, and I met her at one of the photo ops.  Then I later saw her back at the hotel we were staying at, and we talked for a while before I asked her out to dinner the next night before I flew back home,” he explained, leaning back a bit as he inspected his work.  “Then I just kept asking her out and hoped she didn’t get annoyed with me.  It’s worked for five years so far,” he chuckled, twisting the cap back onto the tube of mascara before looking back at you. 

“Can I pull the next one?” he asked, grinning a bit as you nodded to him before he mixed the questions up in the hat before pulling the next one.

“Alright, @y/s/ntrash asked, ‘What is your favorite thing about the other?’” he read off, grabbing a random eyeshadow palette off the coffee table along with a rather large eyeshadow brush.  “You go first, I need to focus on this,” he murmured to you, dipping the brush into a yellow color.  You closed your eyes with a smile, trying to picture the shape he was designing on your eyelid as you thought over your answer. 

“My favorite thing about Matthew is… his sense of humor, probably,” you answered, chewing, grinning as you could feel his demeanor change brightly.  You knew how self-conscious he could be, especially about anything that involved entertainment, so that probably lifted his spirits a bit. 

“My turn?” he asked you, pulling the brush back as he waited for your answer.  You opened the eye he wasn’t working on, nodding softly as you noticed his bright smile.  “Besides everything, my favorite thing about you is your smile,” he announced to you and to the future audience, kissing you quickly before he gathered more of the eyeshadow on the brush.  

You reached down into the hat as you picked the next question, laughing a bit at the way the brush he used tickled your skin with each stroke he made.  “Uh, @spencerwreid asked, ‘Y/N, what is your favorite movie of Matthew’s?  Matthew, what is your favorite video of Y/N’s?’”  You crumpled up the small yellow piece of paper before tossing it to the side, closing your eyes as he moved onto the next lid.  

“My favorite movie of his is probably… Hot Air, I think.  I loved the cinematography and the coloring, and Lesley reminded me so much of him,” you explained, folding your arms across your chest as you settled back into your chair.  “Your turn, bug,” you told him, figuring he was lost in a trance of his work. 

“Oh, shit, okay,” he said, pulling away and letting the brush fall onto the table with a clink as you opened your eyes again.  “My favorite video is… that vlog you made when you went to Disneyland with a few of the other YouTubers.  I don’t remember their names.  I think two of them were twins,” he said, sifting through the products to figure out what to do next.

“The Dolan Twins?” 

“That’s it!”

You grinned a little bit, leaning over again and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.  “How does it look so far?” you asked him, watching him grab an angled brush before grabbing a neutral eyeshadow palette.  

“I can’t tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise,” he said, chuckling as you stuck your tongue out playfully at your boyfriend.  He plucked the next question from the hat, carefully unfolding it before he read it aloud.  “@queeny/n asked, ‘How long have the two of you been together?’” 

“It’ll be five years this August!” you answered enthusiastically, watching as Matthew just smiled brightly at your quick answer.  

You grabbed at the hat and picked out a new question as you watched him dip the brush into a light brown shade, humming to yourself as he dragged it along your eyebrow.  “Okay, okay, @abbygubler asked, ‘What did you do for your first date?’” you repeated the question, tossing it to the side as you watched Matthew carefully fill in your brows.

“I took Y/N to a Thai restaurant across the street from our hotel, and she had the absolute worst pad thai I’ve ever tasted in my life,” he chuckled at the memory, pulling back for a moment to look at his work and pick another question.

He placed the brush between his teeth for a moment as he unfolded his question, leaning his neck back slightly before playfully spitting the brush back onto the table, earning an eye roll and stifled laugh from you.  

“@prentissprincess asks, ‘Why did it take you guys so long to go public?’”  He hummed at the question, picking up a bottle of setting spray before shaking it up.  “Close your eyes,” he told you, and you obliged before he spritzed the mist over your face. 

“Well, I’ll tell you why,” he began, picking up a bottle of foundation as he turned to the camera (probably just for dramatic effect.)  “I am fifteen years older than Y/N, and when we told a few friends when we started dating, they weren’t too fond of it, and didn’t find it necessary to hide their feelings from us,” he said, using the pump on the bottle of foundation to scatter drops across your face.  

“So, after talking about it for a bit, we decided to just keep it to ourselves for a little while, just so we didn’t have to deal with the media for a little while - should I use the big brush or the egg?” he interrupted himself, holding up both of them as he looked at you.  This obviously was much more important to him than the question, which made you smile a bit.

“The sponge would probably be better,” you corrected and informed him, watching him nod before beginning to carefully dab at your face with the beauty blender.

“Okay.  Anyway, we just thought it would be best for a bit, and then we got a little more comfortable and just posted about each other, and now I’m in a YouTube video.  I think this is going to be the peak of my career,” he joked.  You snorted softly at the comment, which only made him smile brightly as he continued to blend out the foundation across your face.

You picked out the next question, careful to not interrupt your boyfriend’s creative process as you unfolded it and read it around his arm.  “@mixmatchedmatthew asked, ‘Was it hard to keep your relationship a secret for such a long time?’”  You glanced up at Matthew slightly as he picked up a kabuki style brush and a little compact bronzer. 

“I don’t think so, no,” you answered, watching him dip the brush into the compact.  

“Make a fish face.  That’s what you showed me, right?” he instructed.  You nodded softly with a grin, sucking in your cheeks as he brushed the darker cosmetic across your sunken cheek.  “The hardest part was probably not being able to show her off, but overall, I’ve probably done harder tasks,” he admitted, brushing out the powder across your cheek before moving up to the sides of your forehead and along the bottom of your jaw. 

He set down the brush as he finished the one side of your face, reaching over into the hat and picking out the next question for you two to answer. 

“Okay, this one is from @y/ndivinity - Why are these usernames so creative?  We need better user names,” he commented, taking the brush and working it across the other side of your face.  “Anyway, they asked, ‘What are your favorite things to do together?’” 

“Oh!  I love just sitting around and painting or drawing together.  I like just… being creative with you, I guess?” you answered, scrunching up your nose slightly as he began to drag the brush over it.

“My favorite thing to do with you is taking you to the beach, even just for little lazy days,” he said with a smile.  You grinned at his answer, pushing yourself out of your seat for a moment to kiss him quickly.

“I thought you didn’t even like the beach?”

“I only like it with you, bunny,” he answered quickly, giving you a quick kiss back before picking up a bottle of concealer.  

You smiled at his response, picking out the next question as he started to draw little shapes under your eyes and in the middle of your forehead.  “@aestheticmatthew asks, ‘Have you learned anything from each other?’” you read aloud, dropping the paper into your lap as you looked back to your focused boyfriend, who again was trying to decide between whether to use a beauty sponge or a brush to blend the makeup out.  

“Use the sponge, ‘Hew,” you told him, watching him nod quickly before dropping the brush and beginning to dab carefully at your skin.

“I’ve learned how to become an up and coming makeup artist from Y/N,” he answered.  You laughed a little, before realizing that that was his actual, legitimate answer.  You grinned a little bit, leaning up and messing his hair up a bit to tease him.

“I learned not to take everything so seriously,” you answered, uncrossing your legs and stretching them out beneath his chair a bit.  He noticed this, and his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

“Are you okay?  Should we take a break for a few minutes?” he asked you, pulling his hand back as (you assumed) he finished blending out the makeup across your face.  You shook your head softly, though your heart melted a bit at how much he cared.  

“I’m fine, don’t worry.  We’re almost done, I’ll make it,” you promised him, smiling a bit as you plucked the next question from the hat.  “Okay, uh, @sydney.y/l/n asked, ‘What do you see for your future together?’”  You smiled a bit at the question, looking over at Matthew as you finished reading it.  He paused his dig through the products as he smiled a bit at the question as well, leaning back in his seat for a moment as he thought. 

“We’d probably stay in the haunted treehouse, but I feel like there’d be at least a few kids running around.  Maybe married in Las Vegas along the strip, with a honeymoon somewhere tropical or in the mountains for two weeks,” he said, looking up slightly as if he was lost deep in thought.

“Besides that, just growing old and gray together, and I annoy you until one of us dies, or whatever happens when you turn one hundred and four,” he finished with a bright grin, leaning over and kissing your cheek softly.  You smiled as he made a bit of a face, realizing he should’ve blended in the concealer a bit more as he wiped at his lips with the back of his hand.  “That was gross,” you heard him mutter, which only made you burst into a fit of giggles as he reached for the next question.

You watched his face contort into a confused expression as he read over the question, and you knew at that moment he had picked out one of the questions you were surprising him with.  

“Uh… okay, uh, @reidreidreid asked, ‘Is Y/N a sugar baby?’” 

You laughed to yourself at the way he timidly read it and at the face he made, watching him hold back his own laughter as he looked forward to the camera.  “No, sh-she’s not,” he said, stuttering over stifled chuckles as he pointed at the fairly large lense.  “I am actually the sugar baby.  She pays for everything, she actually bought the house from me when she moved in,” he said, fully prepared to continue going on a dramatic rant if it weren’t for you laughing at the entire thing.  He shot you a playful glare, which only worsened your case of giggles.

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry,” you said, grinning as you pressed your lips together before crossing your legs again.  He picked up a blush palette and a fluffy brush as you picked out the next question, smiling as you watched him suck in his lips to hide his own smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Alright, @agenty/f/n asked, ‘Do you go on press tours and go to panels with Matthew?’”

“Smile big, I need to do the blush,” he interrupted you before you can answer, grinning a bit before doing just as he said. 

“I just started going to them the past three years, after we went public,” you answered through your tightened teeth, watching as the taller man just laughed at the sight.  You laughed quietly as he finished applying the pink powder, setting the brush and palette down once he was satisfied with his work. 

He grabbed the hat to read out the next question before moving onto the next step of your makeup, humming as he shuffled the three thin remaining pieces of paper before plucking one out.  “@penelopexderek asked, ‘What are your favorite quirks about each other?’”  He set the paper down as he dug around the lipsticks, giving you time to answer first. 

“When he sleeps, he wiggles his feet a bit, like he’s being tickled or something.  It’s a lot cuter than it sounds, and it’s funny to just feel him softly kick at me in his sleep,” you said, teasing your boyfriend a bit with your answer.  He stuck his tongue out at you at your response, picking up a pink vial of lipstick before uncapping it and twisting up the product.

He carefully began to apply the cosmetic to your lips as he gave his answer.  “When she’s editing, Y/N has to be all spread out across our bed, and she has her tongue poking out of her cheek and she has like her Apple Pen stuck behind her ear… it’s just really cute,” he said, causing you to smile a bit as he finished applying the lipstick. 

You pick out the second to last question, watching him grab at the setting spray again.  He shook up the bottle for the second time today, waiting for you to read the question so he didn’t spray you in the mouth or the eye. 

“@68y/n said, ‘Matthew, did Y/N ever visit you at the Criminal Minds set?  If so, what’s your favorite memory there?’”  You quickly closed your eyes and mouth so he could apply the spray, your eyes screwing just a bit tighter as you felt the cool mist on your skin. 

“Yes, she did, actually.  Only for the last few seasons, though, and whenever it worked out for her schedule.  My favorite memory with her there is probably filming the Unauthorized Documentaries with her.”

“I was only in it for like twenty seconds, babe,” you said, chuckling a bit as he just shrugged.

“Doesn’t make it any less fun,” he replied quickly, grabbing the last question from the hat and reading it.  You watched his face light up brightly, looking back up at you before leaning back in his seat and holding the piece of paper out to you.

“You read it.”  You raised an eyebrow at his insistence, leaning back in your seat slightly as he smiled.  “It’s one of the ones I picked out.  You’ll love it, I pinky promise,” he said, holding his large pinky to you. 

You smiled a bit, wrapping your pinky around his before taking the piece of paper from him.

“Alright, @jemilymoreid asks…” your voice trailed off as you smiled, reading the question before glancing up at Matthew.  He had a wide grin on his face, crossing his arms over his chest proudly as he waited for you to finish the question. “...they asked, ‘Has he given you the screw that was in his knee yet?’”

You smiled up at him, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  “Yes, he has.  We still keep it in the fireplace, but he gave it to me for our four year anniversary,” you said with a grin, glancing at him before looking back at the camera.  “He said it was his version of a promise ring.”

You checked the time on your phone quickly before looking over at Matthew, smiling a bit.  “Can I look at my face yet?”  you asked him since you finished the questions.  He nodded softly with a matching smile, handing you a handheld mirror before practically sitting on the edge of his seat.  His eyes flickered with excitement and pride, wanting you to see what he had spent the morning working so hard on. 

You couldn’t help but grin once you saw your reflection.  It wasn’t by many people’s standards good, but considering it was his first time doing anything like it, you thought it was great.  He looked over at you expectantly, chewing on his bottom lip as he laced his hands together.

“It looks great, buggy,” you said, leaning over and kissing him quickly.  You felt him smiling against your lips, obviously happy that you liked it.  “I love it,” you told him as you sat back in your seat, his smile stretching across his face at the compliments.

“Really?” he said, his cheeks burning a pink shade that matched the one he brushed onto your face earlier.  “I’m really glad you like it,” he beamed, leaning back in his seat as he just looked over at you, admiring his work and you.

You wrapped up the video, reminding the viewers to like, comment, subscribe, and follow your other social media accounts.  You gave a wave and blew a kiss to the lens before you stood up and turned off the camera, sighing softly before turning off the lights.

You watched as Matthew slumped back into his seat, like he was holding in his breath the entire time you were filming.

“So, what now?” he asked, running his hands back through his hair as he looked up at you. 

“Now, we clean this mess up, then I can start editing,” you said, helping him gather up all of the makeup.  You two took everything back to your vanity where you usually kept all of it, sorting it out into their designated drawers as Matthew insisted on taking the coffee table back downstairs. 

It didn’t take you very long to clean up the filming room.  After you took a couple photos for the cover of the video, you took down the sheet and the camera tripod, folded up the lights, and put everything back where it belonged.  In a little under an hour, you wouldn’t have been able to tell you had done anything in the spare bedroom.

You spent the rest of the day beginning to edit your video.  It was a bit longer than usual, so you didn’t finish up until about eleven o’clock, only taking breaks to eat and use the bathroom.  You rubbed at your eyes tiredly as you closed your laptop, shoving it in the drawer of your bedside table as you heard Matthew come into the room. 

“Did you finish it already?” he asked, joining you in the bed before getting comfortable under the thick covers before turning to face you.  You nodded softly, running your fingers back through your hair before pulling it back into a low messy bun.

“Yeah, I wanted to get it up tomorrow, so I just finished everything up tonight,” you explained to him, switching off the lamp beside you before cuddling up close to him, resting your head on his chest as you sighed quietly.  You hummed contently as you felt his soft hands rubbing circles on your back, kissing the top of your head as he tried to get you to relax and release the tension you held in your body from sitting in one position for so long.

“I’m sure it’s great, angel,” he assured you, settling down into the mattress as he got ready to go to bed with you.  “You need some rest so you can stay awake to see everyone’s reactions tomorrow, though,” he added, giving you a small smile in the dark room.  

You nodded softly, intertwining your body with his as you tried to get comfortable in your bed.  “G’night, baby boy,” you murmured lazily, pressing a soft kiss to his exposed chest, too tired to move your body up to kiss his lips.  

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered quietly back, both of your eyes closing as you let yourselves fall asleep quickly in the dark bedroom.

The next morning, both of you were riddled with nerves.  He was worried that all of your followers would think he was annoying, and you were worried that they wouldn’t like the video in general.  You always worried about this, but Matthew was the one to calm you down when you watched the video upload slowly to your most popular platform.  However, since you both were pacing in front of the laptop screen, worry coursing through your veins, it wasn’t very helpful.

The video uploaded at about noon, and after that, you both decided to close the computer for now.  You wanted to wait a little while before you checked how the video was doing, so you two ordered some Chinese food and watched a random movie you found on Amazon Prime.  

You two cuddled up on the couch and ate your food as the movie played on, but from the bouncing of his leg and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, you could tell that it wasn’t a very good distraction.  Halfway through the movie he let out a huff and paused it, pulling out his phone and opening the YouTube app.

“Enough people would have seen it by now to give us some feedback, right?”

He opened up your channel and clicked on your most recently uploaded video, smiling as he saw that there were almost three thousand likes in about one hour of being uploaded.  He scrolled down to the comment section, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he scrolled through them. 

“They’re so cute omg”

“A video with Matthew!!! Finally!!!”

“The perfect couple <3”

“I need a Matthew IMMEDIATELY!”

You only found a handful of negative comments, but the positive ones completely outweighed them.  You watched as the tall boy smiled brightly as he read through them, even liking a few of them as he went along.

“They actually like me!” he said excitedly, looking down at you as he spoke.  His eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree with happiness, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.  

“I told you they would, Matty,” you reminded him, curling up to him as you rested your head on his shoulder.  He wrapped his arm around you to pull you just a bit closer, reading back through the comments with a grin. 

“See, and it’s doing really well, too!  Everyone loves the video,” he told you, showing you a few comments that praised the content they had received from you.  You hummed in content as you sported a matching smile, glancing up at him before taking his phone and pressing the power button.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” you began, taking the remote from him.  “We should probably finish that distraction.”

“I agree,” he said, pressing a few kisses across your face and head as you pressed play, pulling a blanket over the two of you as you tossed both of your phones onto the coffee table.  Your attention turned back to the movie, reveling in the warmth of his touch as you let out a relieved sigh, happy that all of your fans and followers loved him almost as much as you do.

Almost.

@darling-doll9​ @imsuperawkward​

#matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray guber fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler x you #matthew gray gubler x y/n #mattew gubler #matthew gubler fic #matthew gubler fanfiction #matthew gubler fanfic #matthew gubler x you #matthew gubler x reader #matthew gubler x y/n #mgg #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg fanfic #mgg x reader #mgg x you #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x youtuber!reader #matthew gubler x youtuber!reader #mgg x youtuber!reader #youtuber!reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid

[polydeuces]

Beautiful Feeling

Matthew gray gubler x fem reader

chapter 4 : weep like a willow

faceclaim : elsa hosk

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liked by rihanna, thespacewitch, ajcook, and 1,394,505 others

@gublergram: the clock ticks slowly, coffee drips into the coffee mug in slow motion. i want you to be healthy and take your time to grow but i wish for nothing more than to hold you in my arms. i talk to you all the time; like telling you about my day or an interesting story i used to hear as a child. i hope you know or come to understand just how remarkable your mother is, she is the strongest woman i have known. she loves you so much it's almost unfathomable. soon. soon i will see you open your eyes for the first time and look at me. i know that in that moment all this waiting will have been more than worth it. i adore you.

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liked by moonlightmgg, mggupdates, y/nlovesme, and 8,924 others

@y/nl/nupdates: Y/n L/n covers her baby bump in a leather jacket as she steps out for lunch with Mattew Gray Gubler in NYC.

Y/n L/n has mastered the art of pregnancy fashion! On Wednesday, the 31-year-old stunner and her sweetheart, MGG, stepped out for a bite to eat in SoHo, as she rocked baggy jeans and a leather jacket.

She wore light washed boot cut jeans that she paired with an oversized leather jacket and a black button down. Adding a feminine touch to the look, the supermodel threw on a pair of black kitten heels. She topped off her outfit with a clear Chanel bag, that featured a colorful pink scarf on the strap.

With Y/n’s art of fashion and Matthew’s humor, this baby is going to be the highlight of the century! [keep up to date on all the latest news: follow @y/nl/nupdates]

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@moonlightmgg: they tracked where they was going to eat?? Omg leave them alone!! 😡

@y/nl/nfan: gorgeous as per usual

@mggupdates: wonder why she's covering up?

@y/nlovesme: she's glowing!!

@yourfriend : The prettiest mama ever

@wannabespencerreid: milf 😍

#social media au #fake instagram #carefulwithpain #celebrityinstagram #y/n instagram #y/n smau #mgg imagine #mgg x you #mgg fluff #mgg smut #beautiful feeling #saturns masterpiece #matthew gray gubler x famous! reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg series #pregnant y/n #famous reader

[gublerlover-blog1]

Date Night -- Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

“Hey y/n,” Matthew says as he walks into the house you both share. He just got back from his day of filming Criminal Minds. “Hey you excited for tonight?”

He looks confused for a second but then realizes. “Fuck date night,” you laugh lightly. “Yep you forgot again,”

He groans. “I’m so so sorry y/n you deserve so much and I’m can’t even remember our damn date night,” you hug him tightly and he kisses you head.

“Baby it’s okay don’t worry about it I know you stressed it’s okay,” he pulls away. “I’ll be right back?” You raise and eyebrow at him before he runs up the stairs.

What the hell? You sit back down on the couch and watch tv for a few minutes before you hear Mattew calling your name.

“Y/n Come here please,” you walk up stairs and into the bathroom which is set up with a relaxing bath, candles and some wine. Your mouth is left open in shock.

"Matthew you didn’t have to do this,” he smiles. “I know I didn’t but you deserve it, come down stairs when your done.” He give you a kiss and leaves you to your bath.

You strip down and climb into the nice warm bath. You walk downstairs about and hour later to see rose petals leading into the kitchen.

Where he has set up a dinner for you guys. You stand there shocked and the feeling of being loved. “You did all of this for me?”

“Yes of course I did y/n I love you and I’d do anything that would make that beautiful smile common your face.” You blush as he pulls out your chair.

You guys enjoy the dinner he has created for you and end up snuggling on the couch watching a movie after.

[daddy-dotcom]

AHH TYSM FOR 3K ON BANG MY LINE

I never expected this much love and I know it’s not a lot to some but it’s a lot to me 🥹 I didn’t consider myself much of a writer before so thank you all 😭❤️

stay tuned for my next Spencer x reader fic:

Bet on Me: Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby reader

#criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #mattew gray gubler #mgg