#spencer x cat

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Spencer Reid & Catherine Adams in Criminal Minds S11E11 “Entropy,” S12E22 “Red Light,” S15E6 “Date Night” // quote by Richard Siken, “Crush”

[petrerpkr]

My favourite spencer reid fanfics

apoptosis

Imposter Syndrome

las vegas kid

DRY IN THE BAYOU, WET IN THE QUARTER

Five Ways Spencer Reid Lets Himself Be Loved

the living & unseen

Dealer's Choice

Are we still friends?

Five People Spencer Reid Slept With - and One He Didn't

home is the barrel of a gun

The Asphalt Burned

Unmasking the poker face

[doehoney]

idk Cat and Spencer should have fucked at least once

[brainrotcharacters]

I'm jealous of a serial killer (Cat Adams) and a man recently released from prison (Spencer Reid)??????

[whereintheworldisspencerreid]

reblog for larger sample size pretty please

[alsofoundinpeas]

Rewind the Goodbye

Summary: One night is all it takes to unravel everything Y/N and Spencer had carefully built over the years of their relationship. But sometimes, the things we break can be mended once more.

(Basically an AU for the events of season 15 episode 6 Date Night)

Requested fic!! 🥳: Can we get a smutty Spencer Reid x reader reunion? It's them passionately coming back together after a messy breakup (JJ's confession or Cat's date night). Basically Spencer grovelling and worshipping reader. Happy/hopeful ending!

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Cat Adams (she's a warning all on her own). Really intense argument (both Spencer and Reader say some pretty mean things). Oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected PinV sex (do not actually do this k thanks!!), creampie (can we pls find another word for this pls), crying during sex (both Spencer and reader oops), groveling/begging man (Spence, I'm looking at you babe), heavy praise, multiple orgasms (f!receiving) and slight overstimulation (both parties). Angst turned happy ending!! Ex's to lovers!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: My very first request!! :') Thank you so very much to the anon who requested this <3 I hope you like it! :) I chose to go with the Cat storyline because I had to prove I am NOT a JJ hater LMAO plus I felt like it was a really interesting dynamic to play off of because I always felt it was odd how chill Max was about her family getting kidnapped and him making out with an actual psychopath in front of her (I get that Max is simply a chill girl and beyond super understanding, which we love!! I’m just saying I personally would’ve tweaked a smidge (not on him, just overall LMAO). This was as fun as it was heart-wrenching to write and I truly hope you guys enjoy it. As always, please like, reblog, and share with your friends if you enjoy it. I love you all! K <3

Y/N remembered the night everything fell apart as if it had happened only yesterday.

She'd been on edge all evening, knowing Spencer was only on the date with Cat for the sake of his job and for the sake of rescuing her father and sister. It didn't make the plan any easier to swallow. Her mind raced with worry as she paced the apartment, waiting for him to come home. All she wanted was for her family to be safe. For Spencer to be safe.

Things had been strained between them ever since Spencer got out of prison. Y/N knew he couldn't be the same person he was before. She understood that. But she hadn't expected this—his detachment, the walls he'd built between them.

He stopped talking to her, stopped sharing his thoughts, retreating inward until the pressure became too much. Then, he'd snap—lashing out in bursts of anger, throwing things, slamming doors, yanking at his hair. He never turned that anger on her directly, but it didn't matter. Seeing the man she'd once known as calm and steady unravel before her was jarring and heartbreaking, especially after years of him being the embodiment of composure.

Y/N remained patient through it all. Spencer had endured more in his short life than most could fathom. The least she could do was offer her empathy and support, no matter how much he pushed her away, reacting like a wounded animal desperate to protect itself. She was determined to do whatever it took to help mend the beautiful, fractured man she loved, even if it meant enduring a few emotional scars along the way.

Y/N never expected those emotional scars to include all of this.

She could feel her heart shattering as the door to their apartment creaked open, revealing her fiancé passionately making out with the most vile woman to walk the Earth. His hands were cradling her face, pulling her into him as Cat stared straight at her.

It was more affection than Spencer had shown her since his release, and quite frankly it didn't seem like he was putting on much of an act.

The only reason Y/N was at the apartment instead of searching for her sister was because the team had located her father—thankfully, he was safe and unharmed, aside from a few bruises—and had contacted her with a plan that Spencer wasn’t aware of. They had uncovered Cat’s hidden agenda: Juliette had been watching Spencer and had discovered the one secret he’d managed to keep from Cat—her. Now, Cat wanted to destroy his life one final time before she died.

The team anticipated that Cat would want to return to their apartment to flaunt the fact that Spencer was 'hers.' Once Cat's ego was satisfied, she'd be more likely to slip up and reveal information about her sister's whereabouts. Y/N agreed without hesitation. After all, she’d do anything to ensure the safety of the people she loved—even if it meant putting herself in an uncomfortable and potentially dangerous position with a psychopath.

JJ had coached her on how to mask her emotions in front of Cat, preparing her for the inevitable confrontation. What JJ hadn't prepared her for was watching the love of her life shove his tongue down Cat's throat like he'd never felt the touch of a woman before.

Y/N braced herself, locking eyes with Cat as she adopted a detached, nonchalant demeanor.

Internally, she felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to curl up and sob into her knees until this nightmare was over. She had already felt powerless when Spencer was wrongfully imprisoned, and now the guilt of her father and sister being taken by Cat’s former cellmate was gnawing at her from the inside out.

All of that pain and heartache for a man who clearly no longer loved her.

Y/N remained composed for the rest of the evening, leaving with Emily as soon as possible to be with her dad and sister now that it was all over. She didn’t spare Spencer a single glance on her way out, choosing to fight that battle later.

And a battle it was.

When Y/N saw her sister's tear-streaked face and her father's defeated posture despite trying to put on a brave front, she knew she needed to stay with them for a few days. She ignored all of Spencer's calls and texts, replying only with a terse I'll be home by Friday. Though she tried to rationalize it as something Spencer had done out of necessity to save her family, the image of him kissing Cat haunted her, and she couldn’t bring herself to face him right now.

As Y/N stepped into their eerily silent apartment Friday night, she immediately realized how much of a mistake ignoring Spencer had been. She quietly closed the door behind her, slipped off her shoes, and placed them on the rack. But as she turned to head toward their room, she was met with the sight of Spencer right behind her, so unexpectedly close that she yelped, her heart racing as she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus fucking Christ—"

"Why have you been ignoring me?"

Spencer’s voice was cold, his eyes filled with pain as he looked down at her. Y/N felt a rush of guilt at the expression on his face, her resolve faltering for a moment before she reminded herself why she had been avoiding him in the first place. That guilt hardened into anger, her eyes narrowing as she glared up at him.

"Why did you make out with a deranged criminal?"

Spencer stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape as confusion flickered across his face. Y/N brushed past him, heading into the kitchen. Her purse hit the counter with a loud clatter. She knew she wasn’t being fair, but the hurt and exhaustion weighed too heavily on her to care.

"Y/N, I didn’t have a choice—" Spencer protested, trailing after her with his hands raised in frustration. "I didn't know you'd be here! That was the last thing I wanted to happen, but I did it for the sake of the case."

She rolled her eyes, a bitter laugh escaping as she leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "So you can tongue-fuck her for the sake of the case... yet you won’t lift a finger to keep your fiancée?"

The words had left her mouth before she could stop them, but she meant them.

Spencer stood across the kitchen, a look of disbelief on his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why would I be losing you?"

Y/N chewed on her lower lip, casting her gaze to the floor. If there was ever a time to finally let it all out, now would be it. So, with a deep exhale, she began.

"Spencer… I’ve tried to be patient, and I’ve tried to understand, knowing what you went through was unimaginable. I'm not at all saying I expect you to be who you once were, because I know that's impossible. But most days, I feel more like your doormat than your fiancée. You only talk to me in short, half-hearted conversations, and I’m the one who usually has to start them. I feel like I have to beg for your time when you're home. We haven’t been on a date in months. You won’t even talk to me about the wedding anymore…" Y/N’s voice cracked as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I’ve tolerated all of that, and yet I’m supposed to just accept that you kissed the woman who not only destroyed your life, but mine too—taking the man I love and turning him into this… hollow version of who he used to be?"

All she wanted was for him to truly listen, to finally acknowledge how things had been between them, and to try—just try—to make an effort to fix them.

Instead, he did the opposite.

"Are you seriously playing the victim when what I did was to save your family?" Spencer snapped, disbelief in his voice. "Did you even consider for a second how traumatizing that whole night was for me? Going on a date with a woman who tried to kill my mother, who framed me for a crime I didn’t commit that left me rotting in that hellhole for months? But I’m the villain because I’m processing my own trauma, and I’m not up your ass planning a wedding I never even wanted?!"

Y/N's heart sank as his words cut through her, tears welling up in her eyes. A wedding he never wanted? The hurt and frustration she’d been suppressing for months bubbled to the surface, and she fixed him with a steely glare, her anger flaring.

"My family never would have been in that situation if you had a normal fucking job!" she shouted, her finger jabbing at him in accusation. "And as for the wedding you never wanted, fine. We won’t have one!" With a fierce motion, she ripped the ring off her finger and slammed it onto the counter before storming down the hallway toward their bedroom, tears streaming down her face.

Spencer’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as he stared at the ring on the counter, his pride battling his guilt. Despite knowing he was in the wrong, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Y/N had been nothing but loving and devoted to him, yet something ugly inside him had taken over, and he couldn’t control it.

"That’s not what I meant," Spencer said, his voice tight as he went after her. "But if that’s how you want to spin it, fine—what are you doing?" He stopped dead in the doorway, his heart sinking as he watched Y/N hastily pack a duffle bag. What was he even doing?

"I can't do this anymore," Y/N sobbed, lifting the duffle bag onto her shoulder as she turned to face him. Her plan was to spend a night or two with her best friend to let everything die down between them so they could talk rationally.

She had only meant the fighting, but Spencer took it as the end of everything between them.

"Then leave! Since that's clearly what you want so badly," Spencer hissed, his voice sharp, though the tears welling in his eyes betrayed his anger. The last thing he wanted was for her to walk away. Why had he said that?

Y/N just shook her head, pushing past him and out of the room. She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and, with a furious shout of "Fuck you!" down the hall, slammed the front door behind her.

For the rest of the weekend, Y/N stayed with her family, retreating to her childhood bed every night where she cried herself to sleep. By Wednesday, she had found a one-bedroom apartment across town that was available to move into immediately. She checked with Emily, confirming that the team was away on a case (thankfully, Emily didn’t ask any questions). Y/N spent that week packing up her things, and moving out while Spencer was gone. On the day she left, she placed the key beside the ring on the counter, taking a final, aching glance at the symbol of everything she had once hoped for. Then, with a heavy heart, she closed the door, leaving everything she’d ever wanted behind.

Now, standing in her pajamas with her mouth slightly agape, Y/N found herself staring in disbelief at none other than Spencer Reid on her doorstep.

She blinked rapidly, ensuring she was awake and not caught in another dream. But she wasn’t dreaming. Spencer was standing before her—real, panting, and drenched. It was the first time she’d seen him since moving out three months ago, and 'exhausted' didn’t even begin to cover how he looked. Her mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words.

“…How did you find out where I live?”

Spencer looked down, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "I… I asked Penelope to find your new address."

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head as she reached for the door to slam it in his face. The nerve of him, having his coworker practically stalk her and then showing up after breaking her heart—

"Y/N, wait—please!" Spencer called out, wedging his foot in the door as she tried to shut it. "Just hear me out. Please?"

Her shoulders slumped as she paused, torn between the urge to shut him out and the pull to let him in. After a moment, she opened the door just wide enough for him to step through. As much as it pained her to face him, her love for him—and the ache of missing him—was deeper than words could ever express.

"I'll get you a towel, and then we can sit," Y/N muttered, rushing toward the bathroom as he stood by the door, slipping off his shoes.

Her heart clenched at the sight of him when she returned, their fingers lightly brushing as she passed him the plush towel.

Spencer was soaked through from the pouring rain, shivering as the damp fabric clung to his skin. She could see the discomfort in his posture as if the wet clothes were grating against him. He reminded her of those heart-wrenching shelter dogs in commercials—lost, vulnerable, and desperately needing care. He looked so pitiful… and all she wanted was to take care of him like she used to.

“Go sit on the couch. I’ll be right back,” Y/N instructed quietly, her expression softening as his weary eyes met hers.

Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion but complied, folding the towel and sitting carefully to keep the cushions dry. Y/N disappeared down the hallway, returning shortly with a pair of pajamas in her hands. As she offered them to him, a sharp pang of jealousy shot through him. He glanced down at the men’s clothes, then looked up at her, his expression filled with quiet hurt.

"Oh, come on," Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes as she sat beside him. "They’re yours. I… found them mixed in with my things and just kept them in my drawer."

That was a lie. She had carefully packed them, clinging to the smallest piece of him when she left. But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Spencer unfolded the clothes, the knot in his chest loosening as he recognized them as his missing pajamas. The jealousy that had gripped him slowly faded, replaced by relief. "Sorry," he said softly, standing up from the couch. "Where can I… um, change into these?"

"The bathroom's down the hallway, to the left," Y/N said, gesturing vaguely toward the dark corridor.

Once Spencer was changed into the dry clothes and not trembling like a leaf, he stiffly sat beside her again. Y/N frowned, taking a moment to really look at him, and a wave of concern washed over her. His once bright, maple-syrup eyes—eyes she used to gaze into with such love—were now dull and shadowed by dark circles. His stubble had grown out, and he sat hunched, as though the weight of the world was bearing down on him.

"Spencer… what are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her words cutting through the thick silence that had settled between them.

His gaze shifted from his hands, nervously twisting in his lap, to meet her eyes. There was a quiet, desperate longing in his gaze as he studied her, almost as if he were reacquainting himself with the woman in front of him. It had only been three months since they'd separated, but even a single day apart from her felt like an eternity.

“Y/N…” Spencer’s voice faltered, his lower lip trembling as he drew in a shaky breath. “Three months ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. You tried to tell me how you were feeling, but I—” His words broke off, and he swallowed hard, eyes lowering as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

Y/N instinctively reached for his hands, unable to stop herself, her heart aching at the sight of his pain.

“I never meant a word of what I said that night. I swear I didn’t. I just— I lashed out, Y/N,” Spencer confessed, his voice breaking under the weight of his words. “I was scared. I sabotaged myself. I let the anger take over, convinced that Cat had finally won—that she’d ruined everything by taking away the one thing I couldn’t live without… you.”

Spencer’s tears flowed freely now, his face streaked with grief. He gripped her hands as though they were his last lifeline, afraid that if he loosened his hold, he'd flatline right there on her couch.

"But this is the one thing I can't blame on her… Despite everything she’s done, I was the one that pushed you away. I had convinced myself that once I came home and you learned what I had to do to survive, you’d be disgusted by me… that you’d hate who I’d become. So I shut you out, thinking it would spare me from that. But regardless of everything, you were still there—supportive, patient, loving... And I just... I was such an asshole."

Spencer clenched his eyes shut, his throat tightening as he struggled to pull himself together.

"I was so wrapped up in my own fears, convinced of something that wasn’t even real, that I ended up making it happen. When you tried to talk to me that night, I was sure you were trying to end things, so I panicked and ended everything like an absolute idiot. I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I should’ve just listened."

Y/N’s eyes widened, a small gasp slipping from her lips as he moved from his spot beside her on the couch to sink to the ground in front of her. He let go of her hands, gripping her hips and digging his head into her lap as sobs wracked his body.

"Y/N, please," Spencer's voice cracked, his eyes searching hers with desperation when he looked up. "I know I hurt you, and I can’t undo that. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it… and I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it, but I can’t live without you. Please... take me back. I'll do whatever it takes. I need you more than anything. You’re my everything." His words were a soft, broken whisper, and his eyes filled with tears as he looked up at her, hoping for a chance to make things right.

Y/N felt her heart break all over again as she looked down at Spencer, her trembling hands coming up to cradle his face as she exhaled deeply.

Even though the pain from everything that had happened still gnawed at her, his explanation dulled some of the grief and filled in the gaps of her confusion. Over the three months apart, she hadn’t come to hate him as she’d feared. In fact, it was the opposite—being without him had only made her love him more. Now that she knew the emptiness of life without him, she couldn’t imagine a future for herself that he wasn’t a part of.

"Spencer… I never stopped being yours," Y/N whispered, her thumb brushing away his tears. "I’m still hurt, but I can’t picture my life without you. You’re my heart, my forever... Nothing will change that. So, if you're willing to put in the work to fix your mistake, then I'm willing to give us another chance."

Spencer looked up at her, his heart racing with a mixture of relief and disbelief that she wasn't turning him away, but giving him the chance to return. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I’m so, so thankful for you, Y/N. I love you. I love you more than you’ll ever know." He sniffled, his breath shaky as he gently pressed a kiss to her wrist.

Y/N smiled wistfully, letting out a soft, watery laugh as she felt his lips on her skin. "Come here, Spence," she whispered, gently pulling him up to meet her before pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

The moment their lips met again, after months of separation, a spark ignited between them, breathing life back into their souls as they lost themselves in each other. Within seconds, their kiss shifted from gentle and heartfelt to intense and all-consuming. Every emotion they'd felt while apart transferred between them through the brushing of their tongues, translating into action as their hands began to roam.

A simultaneous moan filled the air between them, fueling Spencer as he broke the kiss to stand from his awkward positioning on the floor to lift Y/N into his arms in a surprising show of strength. She squealed, wrapping her legs around his waist as he began to carry her down the hall toward her bedroom. With an impatient shove of his foot, the door opened, allowing them to stumble into her dimly lit room in a fit of breathless giggles.

The storm howled outside, lightning slashing through the darkness, briefly lighting the room with each strike as Spencer laid her across the middle of her bed, pressing a passionate kiss to her lips once more.

“How did—“ Spencer’s lips left hers to trail down her jaw. “I ever—“ A soft moan fell from her as his lips made their way to the crook of her neck. “Think I could live without this?” A sharp gasp escaped into the night air as he sucked a possessive mark into her skin.

Satisfied with the bruise blossoming across her skin, his mouth dragged upwards back to hers. “There isn’t… a single lifetime… or universe… where every atom in my body…. wouldn’t be irresistibly drawn to you,” He murmured reverently between kisses, pressing her further into the bed as he hovered above her. A moan rumbled in his chest as her fingers tangled into his damp hair, her mouth moving frantically against his.

“Spencer—“ Y/N whimpered, breaking the kiss and arching into his touch as his hips rolled against hers. “I need you—“

"I know, sweetheart. I know," he whispered softly. "But I've got so much time to make up for. I'm going to take it slow, and I'm going to show you how much you truly mean to me."

Spencer slithered down her body, kneeling on the ground and pulling her toward the edge of the bed until her legs dangled over the side, pressing a kiss to each of her knees as he settled between them. “Going to worship you the way you deserve,” He breathed, his fingers finding the drawstring of her pajama pants and untying them slowly as he kept his eyes on hers.

Y/N sat up on her elbows, her breath hitched as he dragged the fabric off of her body. Hot, open-mouthed kisses peppered up and down the inside of her thighs as soon as the pants hit the ground, his fingers tracing up her goose-bumped skin until they found the edge of her panties. He leaned forward, unable to hold himself back any longer as he dragged them down her body with his teeth.

A shiver ran down her spine as he trailed his lips up her leg, the anticipation heightening her sensitivity. Before she could beg for him to just get on with it, his mouth latched onto her clit, lapping furiously at her arousal.

“Oh— fuck!” Y/N cried out, her hands shooting out to thread through his hair as he began to devour her.

Spencer groaned against her skin, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she was sure there would be small, fingerprint shaped bruises the next day. His eyes were squeezed shut, a look of pure ecstasy on his face while he buried his face in her folds. He lapped at her as though she herself were an aphrodisiac, dizzying and potent and all consuming in a way that left him helpless to her effect on him.

Y/N writhed underneath him as he pulled her into him, soft noises slipping unabashedly from her lips as pleasure seared through her.

He released one of her hips to bring his fingers up to her entrance. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger into her warmth, his tongue flicking against her clit in tandem as he began to thrust the digit into her. He soon followed it with his ring finger, curling them in the way he knew would have her shaking against him.

“God— I missed this. Missed you,” Spencer groaned, turning his head to nip at her thigh as he panted against her skin. His fingers thrusted harder, repeatedly brushing her G-spot as she cried out for him. “Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl? Hm?”

Y/N whined, nodding frantically as her grip tightened in his hair. “I’m... please, I’m so close—“ she panted, a guttural moan wrenching its way from her throat as he returned his mouth to her clit.

That’s all it took to push her over the edge. As she crumbled beneath him, a thunderclap reverberated through the walls, its timing almost poetic in its synchronization with her climax. Her thighs clamped around his head as her hips bucked into his touch, trembling as he worked her through it.

“That’s it, honey. Fuck, you’re divine—“ Spencer cooed, hovering above her again as his lips pressed to her forehead. “I need to be inside of you. Need to feel you. Please, sweetheart?”

Y/N’s chest was heaving as she panted, still reeling from the first orgasm she’d had in months. Dazedly, she nodded, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. “Please, Spence. Need you so bad, baby—“

Spencer whined, breaking away from her to hurriedly lift her shirt over her head. The sight of her, bare and flushed from her orgasm, had an almost feral wave of arousal crashing over him. Before him lied the woman he loved with every fiber of his being, trusting him with her heart again despite the pain he'd caused her before. This time, though, he was determined to protect it— to show her, day after day, just how deeply he loved her, ensuring she'd never feel forgotten or neglected again.

He stripped away his own layers, trembling with anticipation as he crawled over her. Y/N shifted, her thighs parting to make room for him between them as she laid back against her pillows. The tension in the air was palpable as he braced his arms on either side of her head, lowering himself so their chests brushed together.

"I love you, Y/N. More than words can ever say," Spencer murmured, resting his forehead against hers as he lined up his aching cock at her entrance. "You are the reason I breathe, the reason I wake up each day. You’re my saving grace, my redemption… I love you."

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she cradled his face, their noses brushing in a soft, intimate touch. "I love you, Spencer,” she whispered, her voice thick with raw emotion. “Every version of you. Always and forever.”

Their mouths dropped open into a silent moan as he slowly began to ease into her, inch by inch as Y/N re-adjusted to the stretch of him. Spencer's eyes fluttered shut at the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside of her again after so long, inhaling sharply through his nose as he bottomed out. Her nails dug into his shoulder, the sting only heightening the intense pleasure coursing through him.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," He moaned brokenly, hissing as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "So, so perfect for me."

Y/N whimpered, wriggling her hips in a silent plea for him to start moving. Her head tipped back into the pillow at his first thrust, a soft gasp falling from her lips as he repeated the motion. Her hands left his shoulders, finding purchase in his hair as she pulled his mouth to hers once more as he found a steady rhythm.

Spencer moaned into her mouth, rocking into her with short, hard thrusts. Tears slipped down Spencer’s face, falling softly onto her cheeks as he held her close. He couldn’t contain the overwhelming rush of emotion, savoring the warmth of having the love of his life back in his arms. He never thought he'd feel this again, and he couldn’t be more grateful as he pulled back to stare at the woman beneath him.

Tears streamed down her face as she gazed up at him, her eyes full of reverence. The silent mix of their tears spoke volumes, each drop a reflection of everything they had been through and everything they were now.

Y/N's nails dragged down his back as his hips began to pound into hers, the bed creaking with each sharp thrust he delivered. Spencer was murmuring into the crook of her neck now, needy moans slipping free between the soft praise he rained down upon her as she cried out for him.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart. My sweet girl. I love you," he crooned into her skin, panting as he neared his climax. "Love how you feel for me. So fucking wet. So tight."

Their moans mingled together as he shifted above her, resting his weight on one arm as the other pressed her knee toward her chest. The change in angle drove him straight into her G-spot, causing her to cry out his name as he drilled into her.

"You're everything I could ever need. You have every part of my soul, all of it. I'm yours—completely and utterly yours."

Spencer's words triggered her second orgasm, her walls clenching around him as she sobbed her release. He groaned loudly, the feeling of her cumming around his cock sending him hurtling off the edge as he sank as deeply as he could inside of her, giving her everything he had.

His hips rolled into hers gently as they came down from their highs until they were both whimpering from the oversensitivity, finally slowing to a stop as he collapsed on top of her. His lips softly pressed against her skin, a flurry of kisses landing on her face and shoulder. She laughed, trying to wiggle away from him, pushing him gently as she playfully squirmed beneath his affection.

As they cleaned up, tender kisses and gentle words passed between them, the heavy burden of the past few months slowly lifting. In the stillness, a quiet peace settled between them, a mutual understanding that no matter what came next, everything would be okay because they had each other once more. They crawled back into her bed, cuddling together as they listened to the storm start to die down.

"So… I can ask Emily for some time off next week, and we can get you moved back in?" Spencer suggested, his fingers lightly tracing up and down her back as they lay together.

Y/N tilted her head, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth as she looked up at him. "You do realize I’ve still got three months left on this lease, right?"

Spencer waved his hand, a hint of urgency in his voice as he shook his head. “I’ll cover the rest of it. Then you can break the lease, Y/N. Just come home, please.”

Her heart warmed at the depth of sincerity in his voice, knowing he meant every word. Sighing softly, she gave in, nodding as she nestled closer to him, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over. They exchanged quiet, tender kisses and murmured goodnights, and soon Spencer’s breathing slowed, signaling he was asleep. Once she was sure he was resting peacefully, she carefully pulled back just enough to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering for a brief moment before she whispered into the stillness of the room.

“You are my home.”

Continued A/N's: I think this was quite honestly one of my favorite fics I've written so far. I love love love some angst turned happy ending and I LOVE a man begging on his knees 🙂‍↕️ Again, thank you so very much to the anon who requested this!! I have two more requests lined up after this that I can't wait to get written and posted. :) <3 K

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[matthewsgreybubbles]

I need this man to kiss me like that. I need him to suck the soul out of me. (and a shit ton of other things that I cannot explain here because that would be very R18 and some of yall are minors.)

[love-fictional-ppl]

Spencer Reid who loves to cuddle up on his couch and read out loud to you. A candle lit on the coffee table. Record player softly playing in the background.

Spencer Reid who steals your sweaters sometimes. It’s not his fault that you wear oversized cardigans that he can fit.

Spencer Reid who adopts a kitten with you. He brought it home from a case, the kitty basically is your child now.

Spencer Reid who loves when you bring him to a cafe, book store, small business, that he’s never seen before.

Spencer Reid who introduced you to his mother reluctantly, luckily she was having a good day and adored you. His mom told him to marry you before she dies, very casually.

Spencer Reid who finds little home made gifts and letters from you randomly and absolutely loves them, he keeps all the little letters in a box under his side of bed.

Spencer Reid who has a movie marathons with you and builds a fort. You bought tons of snacks and juice.

Spencer Reid who loves your simple relationship.

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Kinda proofread.

I was listening to chamber of reflection while writing🤞

[gummy-cat-writes]

save it for a rainy day | spencer reid x bau! fem!reader

synopsis: while on a case in Seattle during a particularly rainy week, the team learns that you've never been kissed, a fact Spencer didn't realise would both him so much

content warnings: criminal minds typical themes (discussions/descriptions of violence, injuries, death, trauma and generally not great things) please read at your own risk!! also minor spoilers for s7 ep19 (heathridge manor)

ingredients: mostly fluff, she fell first, he fell harder, I got carried away so it's basically a casefic, inaccurate depictions of the US/how the FBI works (sorry I'm not American), a bunch of random facts since its literally Spencer's main love language (cannot guarantee the legitimacy of said facts they were from singular google searches), limited use of Y/N (I tried) and I'm not entirely convinced the plot exists sorryyy

word count: 6k (like I said I got carried away whoops)

a/n: eek this is my very first attempt at posting my writing on tumblr, and also my very first x reader fic! (finally living up to my username lol) I got a bit carried away with this and it is just a tad self indulgent but I hope you all enjoy and if I missed any content warnings please let me know!!

Spencer Reid couldn’t stand the rain. His hair was hard enough to keep presentable when dry, but being wet it made him look like a soggy cat. Much to his dismay, the current case happened to be in Seattle, Washington, right in the middle of their rainy season – perfect for an unsub who liked to drown their victims in rainwater.

Spencer had only just stepped out of the jet when he felt the light downpour beginning to dampen his head and shoulders, squinting up at the sky with a disgruntled look.

“I hate the rain,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, thankful he’d long since transitioned back to contacts, as wearing glasses in this weather would have made the trip entirely more frustrating.

“Aw, come on,” a voice chirped up beside him. “It’s not that bad,” You were much more prepared than him, already opening a brightly patterned umbrella as you descended the plane steps. “It smells so nice.”

Without being asked, you lifted the umbrella higher so he could duck beneath it. The two of you began the walk across the tarmac, following Hotch and Rossi, with Emily, JJ and Morgan bringing up the rear.

“The term for the smell we usually associate with rain is actually called petrichor,” Spencer said, unable to help himself. “The word was coined in 1964 by Australian scientists, it’s a mixture of water and other compounds like ozone, geosmin and plant oils.” He wrinkled his nose, the aforementioned smell filling the morning air. “It gets particularly strong during a downpour like this.”

You chuckled. “Well, I think it’s romantic. I always imagined my first kiss would be in the rain.”

Spencer ducked as you closed the umbrella, arriving at the terminal entrance. He watched as you held back, letting the rain fall on your face for a moment.

“Was it?” he asked.

“Hm?” You blinked, before shrugging. “Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you said, in a surprisingly casual tone. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

This statement somehow caused Spencer’s stomach to flip, and he found himself unable to form words.

Emily, who’d overheard the tail-end of the conversation, did not have the same issue.

“You’ve never been kissed?” she said incredulously, already grinning at your now somewhat sheepish expression.

“I’ve sort of being saving it,” you admitted, smiling nervously. “I just think that being kissed in the rain is so romantic.”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Emily responded fondly. “Wait ‘til Penelope hears about this.”

You groaned, your cheeks reddening. By now, JJ and Morgan had caught up, the former eyeing Spencer with concern.

“Spence, you okay?”

Caught off guard, Spencer’s next words came out a little harsher than intended.

“I don’t care if it’s romantic,” he snapped. “I still hate the rain.”

* * *

Spencer had no clue what was going on. It had been ages since your conversation on the tarmac, but your words kept replaying in his head. It was one of the few times he loathed his eidetic memory, as the visual of you standing calmly in the rain, water dripping down your face – more specifically your mouth – swam in his brain whenever he closed his eyes.

“-and Reid can share with her.” The sound of his name broke him from his reverie, and he looked up frowning. The team had dropped by their hotel to freshen up before heading to the precinct, and were discussing who would be sharing a room together. Typically, they got four rooms, with six of them pairing up and one person getting a room to themselves. JJ was looking at Spencer, that concerned look on her face again.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

Spencer’s brain rebooted awfully slow. “I- what?”

“Room shares,” Emily cut in, looking amused as the others chuckled. “You’re good to share a room with Y/N, right?”

All Spencer could do was glance between his team, his eyes landing on Morgan.

“What about Morgan?” he asked. Something about sharing a room with you made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

Morgan laughed. “Sorry, pretty boy, it’s my turn in the solo room.”

“I don’t mind,” you piped up, glancing at Spencer with a friendly smile. “Spencer?”

“Do you kids need to do rock-paper-scissors to decide?” Rossi’s tone was exasperated. “Me and Hotch, Emily and JJ, Reid and L/N and Morgan on his own. Simple.”

There was little more arguing Spencer could do without being obvious, so he reluctantly followed you down the hall to your room. Why on Earth was such a short, insignificant conversation making him feel like this? He’d shared rooms with you on cases before, what was so different now?

You unlocked the door to the room, completely unaware of his inner turmoil. For a moment, Spencer could forget it too, watching as you examined the room, enthusiastically dropping flat onto one of the twin beds.

“This room’s a lot like the one we shared in Massachusetts,” you mused absentmindedly. “The layout’s the same. I like the old-fashioned look.”

“You know, the oldest hotel in the world is the Nishiyama Onsen Keiunkan,” Spencer said. “It’s a ryokan, which is a traditional Japanese-style inn, and was first opened in 707 AD.”

You smiled. “Oh, yeah?” Sitting up, you looked up at him with a genuine interest that always made him falter his words.

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, it was created by the son of an aide to the 38th Emperor of Japan, Emperor Tenji. Actually, quite a few of the world’s oldest businesses are in Japan. There was a report published by the Bank of Korea that found that 56% of the around 5,500 companies older than 200 years are in Japan.”

“Damn,” you said, still smiling. “Well now I want to go to Japan.”

Spencer chuckled, averting his gaze. His rambles were typically met with disinterest, yet you were one of the few who would properly pay attention. You too were prone to rambling, though your tangents tended to be more anecdotal than random facts. But why now was your attention so nerve-wracking?

“Spencer?” Your voice once again pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” you finally asked, frowning at him. “You’ve been really space-y today.”

“I’m fine!” His voice rising in octave definitely didn’t sell it. “I’m just… tired.”

He gave her a tight smile, hoping you’d drop it. He busied himself with setting his go-bag onto his bed.

“Do you think I’m weird?”

That caught his tension.

“What?” Spencer stared at you, concern that you’d ever think that overruling his current dilemma. “What are you talking about, you’re not weird you’re- you’re you-” He cut himself off as you laughed.

“Spencer, I’m in my 20s and I haven’t had my first kiss. That’s pretty weird, isn’t it?”

He blinked. “I didn’t have my first kiss until my 20s.” he pointed out.

“Yeah, because you were, like, twelve in your senior year. It would have been illegal to kiss you,” you said, amused. “I think I’ve only ever held hands with one person all through school.” Your smile faded a little as you fidgeted with your sleeve. “I guess I always expected dating and romance would just happen, like in the movies, and it never really did.”

“Well, in the US, the average age of the first kiss is fifteen, but even that varies between regions.” Upon realising his comment wasn’t helpful in the slightest, he back-tracked. “But everyone has their own timeline. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

You sighed, standing up. He could tell now that despite your casual tone on the tarmac earlier, it really did seem to bother you. Something about the melancholy look on your face stung something deep in him.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said softly. “I’m going to go shower.”

* * *

The Seattle Police Precinct was a buzz of activity – the media had been all over the murders since a sixth body had been discovered, which was why the BAU had been called in. As Penelope had explained in the briefing, so far the unsub had killed six women over the course of two and half months. All six victims were women in their 40s, who all went missing a few days before their bodies were found in empty lots, significant amounts of rainwater in their lungs. With no other injuries on the bodies, it had been difficult to determine a clear motive.

Upon arriving at the precinct, Hotch set about delegating tasks so the team could build a profile. Spencer was strangely relieved when Hotch sent him to the medical examiner with Morgan. It wasn’t that he didn’t like working with you, but your comments had stuck with him more than they should for someone he saw as a friend, and he knew the longer he spent around you, he’d likely make a fool of himself.

The ME went over the autopsies with them, noting some of the interesting findings.

“So, it appears the victims spent a significant amount of time in water before they died,” she said, frowning at her clipboard.

“How can you tell?” Morgan asked.

She walked over to one of the tables, lifting the sheet covering the most recent victim, pointing at her arm. “See how the skin is thickened here, and the sores? She must have been in the water for good while, for the skin to do this. They all were.” The ME crossed the room to pick up a tray, bringing it over to show the two men a cutting of fabric. “The clothes they were wearing were beginning to mould, which can happen with water damage. These women were fully submerged for days before they died.”

“And you can confirm they died from drowning?”

“It’s quite difficult to determine if drowning is the official cause of death,” The ME replied. “But given how much water was in their stomachs and lungs, and the foam present, I’d say so.” She grimaced as she read through her notes. “It certainly wasn’t done quickly either.”

Morgan frowned. “This is similar to the case in Oregon, at that manor.” He paused, glancing at Spencer. “Reid,” he nudged him. “You good?”

“What? Oh- yeah, I’m fine.” Spencer stuttered, very aware he wasn’t convincing his colleague in the slightest. “The case in Oregon?”

“The way the victims were submerged in water, it’s similar. Do you think this unsub is also torturing?”

Spencer forced himself to focus, frowning at the body in front of him. “It seems it serves as both a way to torture, and to kill. The Oregon ones were killed with nicotine poisoning.”

“I also noticed something else,” the ME spoke up. “I found bits of rust stuck to their hands.” She moved the sheet, turning the victim’s hand over. Flakes of deep orange speckled the skin of her palm, which was reddened and raw. “I think they were holding onto something for quite a while, something metal.”

“Didn’t the Oregon unsub submerge the girls in a well?” Morgan said. “Perhaps we’re dealing with a copy-cat.”

Spencer shook his head. “Those details weren’t released to the press, it can’t be. Besides, if they had, they would have the grazes on their bodies from the rocks of the well, wouldn’t they?”

The ME nodded. “Aside from the hands, they’re relatively unharmed. That, and a bruise to the back of the head.”

Morgan nodded, putting the pieces together. “So the unsub hits them over the head to stun them, takes them somewhere and keeps them in a body of rainwater until they’ve drowned and dumps them in lots?”

“He’s gotten better, clearly,” the ME mentioned. “The first two victims had multiple wounds to the head, whereas the more recent ones only had one.”

“So,” Morgan said, seemingly talking to himself. “How long until he attacks again?”

* * *

Spencer leaned against the car, trying to read while Morgan phoned Penelope to update her on the unsub’s MO. Emphasis on trying. He’d been re-reading the same page over and over, and when one can read at his speed, it got repetitive rather quickly.

“- great job, baby girl, keep it up,” Morgan was saying as he returned to the car, putting his phone away. “So, Penelope is going to look into places where the unsub might have been able to keep the women, but that could be anywhere-”

“Ow!” Spencer looked up, offended, having just been flicked in the forehead. “What was that for?”

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” Morgan stated, eyeing the younger man. “More than your usual weird. What’s going on?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, looking back down at his book, only for it to be snatched from his hands. “Hey, give that back-”

“Not until you tell me what’s up,” Morgan’s voice was serious, using a similar tone Spencer had heard him use with his sisters. Firm but compassionate. “It’s pretty obvious something is wrong.”

Spencer’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a huff of frustration. “If I knew, I would tell you,” he grumbled, hesitating before he continued. “I- Y/N told me this morning that she’s never been kissed, and I can’t stop thinking about it-”

He was interrupted by Morgan’s hearty laughter. “That’s it?”

Spencer stumbled over his words, his face flushed. “It doesn’t mean anything, I’m not-”

“Pretty boy has a crush~” Morgan teased, the smirk on his face not shifting, even as Spencer smacked his forearm to get him to shut up.

“What? No, that’s ridiculous!” he snapped. “She’s my co-worker, my friend! I just-”

“Realised how much you’d like to be the one to kiss her?” Morgan finished for him, getting into the car. “Did you only just come to this conclusion today?”

Spencer scowled, climbing into the passenger seat. “What are you talking about?”

“Reid, you’ve been ogling her since she first started working here,” Morgan pointed out. “I know we’re not meant to profile each other, but it’s textbook-”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about! We’re just friends!”

Morgan chuckled. “If you say so. But, if you ask me, I don’t think she’d be too opposed if you asked her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Infuriatingly, Morgan chose then to finally fall silent.

* * *

You couldn’t understand what you’d done wrong. It had been two days since the team had arrived in Seattle, and Spencer was 100% avoiding you. He averted his eyes every time you spoke, made excuses to leave the room when it was just the two of you together, and barely spoke when you finally returned to the hotel to rest. Surely he wasn’t put off by what you’d told him at the airport?

When you’d said you were saving your first kiss to be in the rain, you were only half lying. A kiss in the rain would be romantic, but you desperately wanted it to be with him. It had been a little over a year since you joined the BAU, and you’d spent practically every day since then head over heels for Dr. Spencer Reid.

Who wouldn’t? He was your type in every way – nerdy, awkward and ridiculously good-looking.

So far, you’d managed to keep it hidden from most of the team, save for Emily, JJ and Penelope. Curse those women for being so good at their jobs. And curse them for teasing you every chance they got.

“What are you looking at?”

Speak of the devil, and doth shall appear, looking exactly like Emily Prentiss. She set a coffee down next to you, choosing to lean against the table rather than sit, giving you a knowing grin.

You quickly looked back down at the files in your hands. “Nothing,” you mumbled, convincing no one.

“Honestly, you are lucky the boy genius is the most oblivious man in the world,” Emily said, frowning at Spencer, who was discussing the case with Rossi and JJ. “I’m surprised he hasn’t caught on yet.”

��Would you keep it down?” you hissed, swatting her with a file. “I don’t want the entire precinct to know.”

She cackled, nudging you with her leg. “I figured you could do with a push in the right direction,” Leaning down, she lowered her voice. “That direction being a certain doctor’s bed-”

“Emily!”

“I’m just putting it out there, you should go talk to him,” She stood up to avoid any more file assaults. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

Fortunately, the lecture was interrupted by Hotch walking into the room, a particularly stormy look on his face. “There’s been another kidnapping,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The team bundled themselves into the cars, heading to east Seattle, where a staggering amount of police cars and media vans were already gathered. Breezing past the officers and into the house, you followed JJ and Emily into the bedroom.

The previous women had all gone missing while at home, all living alone, or when their partners weren’t home. This time, it was clear the victim’s partner had been home. He was laying on the bed, blood splattered everywhere and a pillow covering what was sure to be fatal head wounds.

“Monique Johnson is currently missing, the neighbour found this after hearing their dog barking inside.” Hotch said as he followed in behind you.

“Clearly the unsub didn’t expect the boyfriend to be home,” JJ muttered. “This is overkill, he lost his cool.”

Hotch nodded. “We need to give the profile.”

“We believe the unsub is a white man, likely in his 30s. He’s not very noticeable, blends in with the crowd,” Hotch began, arms crossed as he presents the profile to the Seattle Police. “Given how he manages to break into the victims’ houses with little to no trouble, it’s possible he has experience with burglary, and may have a criminal record.”

“The victims all resemble each other physically, and in personality,” JJ continued. “It’s possible the unsub is viewing these women as surrogates for someone in his life, possible a sister, or a mother, given the lack of sexual components to the crimes.”

“We’ve classified him as a control-oriented killer,” Morgan picked up. “The method in which he drowns his victims over a gruelling multiple days is his way of being in control. Though he is very intelligent, and manages to limit any physical evidence left behind on the victims, he clearly struggles when plans don’t go his way.”

“The most recent victim is Darius Bowers, 47,” you spoke up. “He was killed during the abduction of his girlfriend, Monique Johnson. This is the first time the unsub has killed a man, and it is very clear it wasn’t meant to happen.”

“He knows we are getting close, which means we only have a limited time to find Monique alive.” Hotch concluded.

As the officers dispersed, you breathed a sigh of relief. Delivering profiles was nerve-wracking, but it was good to know you were on the right track.

“What are you- hey!” Spencer’s voice shot up an octave as you grabbed him by the sleeve, all but dragging him into a nearby hallway. He looked as if he were caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

“Have I done something wrong?” you asked, trying and failing not to sound desperate. The reality was the distance hurt, more than you could admit. “You’ve been avoiding me this entire case, and it’s clear I’ve upset you, which is the last thing I wanted, so would you please just spit it out?”

Spencer stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, utterly speechless. Then, slowly, a deep red flush crept up his neck and he cleared his throat.

“I- I don’t know.”

It was rare to hear that phrase from him.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s- You haven’t done anything wrong, I just-” He was stuttering, eyes directed towards some far off thing as he struggled to explain himself. “I think I’ve come to realise how much you care about me, and-”

“Guys, it’s Penelope.” JJ said sharply, peeking around the wall.

You let out a huff of frustration, storming after the blonde woman, leaving Spencer nonplussed and red in the face.

The team huddled around the table, where Morgan’s phone on speaker in the middle, playing the upbeat voice of Penelope Garcia.

“Alright my lovelies, so I have been fighting tooth and nail with these files, trying to find a link between the victims and let me just say, it would be easier to get Hotch to smile, it is difficult-”

“Garcia-” Hotch’s tone was warning.

“Sorry sir,” she quickly added. “I think I’ve found something. Weeks before Janet Burgess, the second victim, went missing, she payed a fee for a lawn service through Green City Lawn Care-”

“Isn’t that where Monique Johnson works?” Spencer piped up, frowning.

“Why indeed, boy genius, and get this, Danna Howell, the fifth victim also had her lawn mowed by the same company!” Before anyone else could interrupt, she continued. “Now, you’re probably thinking that it’s just a coincidence, but the universe is rarely so lazy, so, I dug a bit further and found out that all the victims at some point used the service in the past six months, and three of them left quite scathing reviews of the company.”

“That’s great, baby girl, but we both know you can do better,” Morgan teased.

“I was getting there, chocolate thunder-”

“Garcia-” Hotch warned, a little more impatient.

“Sorry sir, so I went through employee records and just seven months ago they hired a Tristan Murray, who has only just completed 15 years in prison.”

“What for?” Emily asked.

“I’m not-so glad you asked,” Penelope said, her cheery voice becoming more grim. “Burglary that ended with assault of the homeowner.” A rapid sound of typing was heard. “Looks like he had quite a nasty childhood, his biological mother was only 16 when she had him, and put him into the foster system. He got with the wrong crowd, spent time in and out of juvy, and oh god-”

“What?”

“Apparently he was arrested for the burglary charges when police were called to a cafe for a verbal altercation between 19 year old Tristan and his biological mother. Police reports say she came there to meet with him and he wanted to have her in his life but she didn’t, and this made him very angry.”

“Where is his mother now?” Rossi asked.

“Uh, it looks like she is still in Seattle but- oh no- she got a restraining order against him just recently.”

“That’s the trigger,” Hotch said. “Alright, Reid, L/N, Morgan, you take officers to Green City, JJ and Emily head to the mother’s place and Rossi and I’ll go to the unsub’s house.”

* * *

Green City Lawn Care was a run-of-the-mill lawn care company, nestled in a mostly suburban part of Seattle. The sky was a deep grey, not yet raining but clearly it would soon, if the rumbling thunder was any indication.

Spencer couldn’t say a word to you, his mind still reeling from your earlier confrontation. As he strapped on his bulletproof vest, he snuck a glance in your direction, and when his heart jumped at the focus in your expression, he felt yet another wave of confusion.

Following his conversation with Morgan, he’d been going over every memory of you in his mind, analysing your behaviour and he’d come to the shocking realisation that maybe his colleague was right.

The shy smiles, a kind tone reserved only for him, flinching when your hands brushed and the occasional flush to your face when you spoke to him. While Spencer knew he was blind to subtle social cues, re-examining all those behaviours were blatant indicators of at least some level of affection beyond a platonic line.

Had he only missed it because he couldn’t imagine you – or anyone, for that matter – seeing him in that light? Or was Morgan also correct about him? Had he been so caught up in watching you he hadn’t actually seen you?

Observing the way you frowned as you buckled the clips of your vest, the variety of your expressions flashed in his mind, your smile, your laugh, your pout, it all burned itself behind his eyes, causing some unknown feeling to bubble in his chest, threatening to burst free.

“Ready to go?” Morgan asked the both of you, adjusting his earpiece.

You nodded, and he turned away to check on the Seattle officers.

Spencer opened his mouth, your name on the tip of his tongue, and as you made to walk towards the building, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

The sky above rumbled, and a few drops of rain hit his shoulders, darkening the fabric.

“Listen, I need to-” he began, unsure of exactly how to explain his feelings, but knew he had to tell you, before it consumed him.

You stared up at him, conflict crossing your face as Morgan called the two of you. Giving him a brief smile, you gently pulled your arm from his grip.

“After, alright?” you said.

When did you become able to so easily steal the air from his lungs?

“Reid, come on.” Morgan said, frowning.

The three of you took the lead, crossing the car-park towards Green City Lawn Care as a few officers brought up the rear. Guns ready, Morgan paused outside the front door, directing some officers to go around the back, before nodding at you and then Spencer.

The door chime jingled as Morgan walked in, body tense as he directed the baffled receptionist to head outside, asking him if Murray was in.

“He- He just came by, said he was grabbing supplies-” the man babbled, pale in the face of three armed FBI agents. “What’s this about?”

“Let’s go,” Morgan ordered, ignoring his questions, taking the lead as he jumped over the counter, gun ready as he opened the door to the back supply room.

The three of you filed into a large garage, which held a few lawnmowers, and various other lawn care equipment.

“You two, take that side.”

Spencer followed as you crept around the right side of the garage. There was a clatter of something hitting the floor, before the face of a man poked up between the machinery.

“Tristan Murray?” you called out, pointing your gun at him. “We just need to talk!”

The man didn’t hesitate to bolt, and Spencer’s heartbeat thrummed faster as the two of you chased after him, Morgan a ways behind, radioing for back-up.

Running to the back door of the garage, the man dashed outside, disappearing around a corner. Without a second thought, you ran after him, and Spencer couldn’t stop himself from sprinting after to you. He could see the figure of the man darting down a side street, which lead to what appeared to be an abandoned construction site.

The rain was heavier now, blurring Spencer’s vision as he watched you slide between the gates, running straight into the site. He somewhat clumsily stumbled into the gate, pulling it open, while trying to keep you in his line of vision.

Morgan had caught up by now, the two of them squeezing through the gates into the site. It was clearly meant to be a building, but hadn’t been touched in a while. The pelting rain soaked the dull grey concrete foundation blocks as the two men squinted through the downpour.

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan shouted.

“She went after him, I-” Spencer tried to catch his breath, his lungs burning.

“Murray, this isn’t going to change anything!” Your shout caught their attention, but the following cry of pain chilled Spencer to the core.

Sprinting in the direction of the scuffle, he found Murray on top of you, a metal pipe pressing against your throat.

Before he could really process what he was doing, he grabbed Murray, pulling him off you, managing to take the man by surprise long enough for Morgan to catch up.

“I’ve got him!” he shouted, tackling the man to the ground, silver handcuffs already being clipped around his wrists.

Spencer whipped around to you. You were on your feet, muddy and a bright red streak of blood coating your right arm, running down your hand.

“Spencer, she has to be here!” you said urgently, looking around. “He ran here for a reason, this is where Monique is!”

“Where is she?” Morgan shouted at Murray, hauling him to his feet.

The man bit his tongue, angrily glowering at them all, still attempting to struggle against Morgan.

Your eyes darted from foundation block to sodden wooden pallet. And then you ran off.

“I’ve got this, go after her!” Morgan said.

Spencer was already chasing after you, as you jumped down, following the gutter down some slippery wet grass to where a large storm-water drain sat.

“She’s here!” You shouted, already pulling against the metal bars. Spencer all but stumbled down beside you.

A woman was in the drain, gripping on to the bars with all her strength, the rushing water from the pipes bubbling over her face. “Help me lift this!”

Spencer nodded, grabbing one end of the grate, and the two of you managed to lift it just enough so you could grab Monique’s shirt, dragging her out of the drain.

She was pale and barely conscious, but thankfully coughing up water. You held her shoulder as she heaved, relief clear on your face.

“Your arm-” Spencer said, heart rate slowly ticking down to a normal rhythm.

It was as if you barely noticed the wound. “I cut my arm when he tackled me,” you wheezed. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

Something about you, covered in mud and blood, your cheeks flushed from the exertion, asking if he was okay, confirmed what he’d been questioning all along.

Despite their victory, the rain didn’t let up by much. Spencer was positive he looked ridiculous, soaked to the bone, but he didn’t care. He walked over to one of the ambulances, where an EMT was stitching up the cut to your arm. It looked pretty nasty, but without the blood dripping everywhere, it was certainly improving.

You glanced up as he approached, giving him a tired smile.

“You okay?” he said, as the EMT finished covering the wound, excusing herself.

“I’ll survive,” you replied, examining the wound. “Might get a cool scar. It’ll make me look more badass.”

Spencer chuckled. The two of you looked around at the scene, blue and red lights reflecting off the rain. Monique was being wheeled away in a stretcher.

“Hotch is going to be so mad at me,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t have gone after him alone.”

Spencer shook his head. “I’ll vouch for you. If you hadn’t, Monique would’ve drowned.”

You nodded, but your expression was bitter. “She’s about to find out her boyfriend is dead,” you mumbled. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”

Standing up, you sighed, tilting your head up as the rain soaked your clothes once more. In contrast to how calm you’d been on the tarmac, your face was melancholy.

“You were right,” you said, dejected despite the success of the case. “The rain isn’t that romantic afterall.”

Spencer looked down at you, then up at the sky. The events of the past few days replayed in his mind, and the revelations that had come with matched the steady rhythm of his heart. He reached out, almost imperceptibly, letting his hand brush against yours.

“It’s beginning to grow on me,” he said softly, glancing back down at you, his lips twitching up into a small smile. “Thanks to you,” he added, and when you linked your hand with his, he tried not to let it show how breathless the action made him.

Your smile was nothing short of beautiful.

* * *

As if sensing the troubles were passing, the rain lightened up as the team returned to the precinct to wrap up the case, and then headed to the hotel. Cases like these always seemed to drag on when you’re in the thick of them, but the moment you’re done, you swear no time has passed.

Spencer headed out of the hotel, spotting the brightly coloured umbrella you’d brought before he saw you, standing in the rain. Your go-bag was on the steps of the hotel, sheltered from the light downpour.

He walked up to you, gently tapping the fabric of the umbrella so you’d lift it up for him to duck under. “Is your arm any better?” he asked after a moment.

“It stings a bit,” you replied. “I’m fine, though.” There was something in your voice that told Spencer you weren’t.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but we did good,” he said softly. “You did good.”

“Why do people do things like this, Spencer?” you asked quietly.

“Do you want the statistics?”

You huffed a small laugh, leaning into him a bit. “Yes.”

“Humans are, and have always been a naturally violent species out of all the mammals,” he said. “Studies show that in most mammals, deaths caused by others of the same species accounts for 0.3 percent of deaths, and typically the reasons are practical; food, territory, et cetera. The rate of lethal violence in humans is almost seven times higher,” Spencer couldn’t resist gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “We kill not just for those reasons, but for seemingly insignificant or even perceived transgressions. Anger is particularly potent, and it makes us do terrible things. Combining that with an often hostile and intolerant society, it makes us predisposed to kill.”

“We’re kind of awful, aren’t we?” you said bitterly.

Spencer nodded slowly, glancing at you. “Some more than others. Some less. If its any consolation-” he hesitated for a full 30 seconds of rain before continuing. “You’re one of the least awful, in my opinion.”

He loved the way your smile grew, gradually reaching your eyes and filling his chest with warmth.

“Thanks,” you said genuinely. “For making this case a little less awful.”

“I’d like to make it not awful at all, if you’d let me.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Wordlessly, Spencer reached up, taking the umbrella from your hand and closing it. Gently dropping it by your bag, he took your hands, leading the both of you properly out into the rain. You stared at him, and something clicked, your smile faltering in favour of a more surprised expression.

Spencer tentatively touched your cheek with one hand, fingers barely grazing the skin, as if he was scared you might shatter.

“May I?” he asked, his cheeks going pink at how his voice cracked.

Your small nod was all he needed. Spencer leaned down, his other hand drifting up to cup your jaw with more confidence as he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed with intent, he always did. He couldn’t help it, using the kiss as a way to almost press the words he wanted to say into you.

You let out a muffled squeak of surprise, tilting your head back as your hands found the slightly damp fabric of his cardigan. You kissed back, clumsy and inexperienced, but neither of you cared. The rain was chilly, you both knew you’d be uncomfortably damp for the flight home, but those were small prices to pay for a moment that Spencer realised you’d been right about.

Kissing in the rain was indeed, very romantic. It was romantic in how despite knowing that your clothes were getting wet, your hair was ruined and you were shivering slightly from the cold, all you wanted was the moment to drag on forever.

Finally, you were the first to pull back, grinning up at Spencer with bright eyes and a wide smile, cheeks flushed. You were both vaguely aware the others were watching, Emily and Morgan snickering to each other in your peripheral, but it didn’t matter.

Spencer Reid couldn’t stand the rain. His hair was hard enough to keep presentable when dry, and he knew in this moment he probably resembled a soggy cat. However, for you, he’d gladly make an exception.

[agathasstrap]

Emily Prentiss — Icons

[sleeplessv0id]

me when someone asks me something about the fandoms I've been heavily involved in for years.

[uranometrias]

i just want to write about that specific scene where spence kisses cat && she opens the door in the midst of them making out && spence is just EATING her face && max is just there like “😟”… except i want it to be with reader && I want cat to receive some of the smoke that yall always flinging JJ in yall imagines (specifically regarding her confession) ! && i want Spencer to grovel & work to prove his kiss with cat was all for show! Like why have JJ get beat up when you can curb stomp the true villain : cat adams

like look at him ??? he needs to be sedated !!

[venusbyline]

Smart ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 17, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Cat Adams x female!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: gun play + dubcon

— summary: Cat Adams manages to escape from the restaurant and kidnaps you as a way of emotionally torturing the other members of the BAU, especially Spencer Reid.

— word count: 2.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 17th day, BAU agent!reader, dark!Cat, gun play, dubcon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, kidnapping, degradation, rape/non-con elements, non-consensual bondage, non-consensual drug use, dry humping, dry orgasm, dacryphilia, crying, sadism, curse words, ambiguous/open ending, implied reader death, Spencer Reid mentioned, Maeve Donovan mentioned, minor Spencer Reid x reader, past Spencer Reid x Maeve Donovan, dom!Cat, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

"I guess I overestimated you, princess..." Cat purred in your ear, her velvety and husky voice tickling the back of your neck as you tried to move away from those red lips. Away from the handcuffs and ropes that kept you trapped on that bed improvised in some abandoned and hidden basement. "To be honest, I expected more when I chose you."

"Let me out. Right now, Cat Adams!" You screamed with all your fury, as if hoping that the echoes could attract the attention of someone passing by, even though your recent entry into the BAU was enough for you to know that no Unsub would be so stupid as to hide somewhere within easy reach. No Unsub would do something stupid like that, much less the smart and manipulative Cat Adams, her cruel smirk pulled from ear to ear when she watched you squirming, trying to free yourself from all the bonds that held you there. So vulnerable and at her mercy.

Your half-naked body arched upwards as you remained with the insistent exasperation, before shouting angrily again, stopping moving when you realized that every movement worsened the discomfort in your skin. You had trained for so long to become a BAU agent, you had trained so much to be prepared for possible kidnappings... And yet no theory or practical test did justice to the true panic of being half-naked in front of your kidnapper, a dangerous killer.

"Why I'm almost naked, Cat? Are you also a rapist now?" The questions came before you could rethink whether they could put you at more risk than you already were. Annoying Cat was not a smart strategy and you knew it.

"I'm not a rapist. And I haven't touched you without your consent while you've been unconscious for the past two days."

Cat's words left a bitter taste inside your mouth. Two days? You were unconscious for two whole days and did not even realize it? What the hell... That did not make any sense. You remembered chasing Cat and suddenly feeling something being jabbed into your neck, but then you could not remember anything else. It was like something or someone had put you in a deep sleep like a fucking Disney princess.

"You drugged me?"

A laugh came from her thick lips, colored by burgundy red lipstick. "That's my good girl. See? It wasn't so hard." She said, running her hand over your face and making you squirm, while you thought of something to curse her with, but could not get past stupid stutters. "It's nothing too intense, I promise. It won't give you an overdose."

You looked at her in disbelief. No matter the amount of dose, she had drugged you and kept you there for two fucking days as if you were the perfect fucking victim for her. A little dog, tied there and receiving a pat on the face, content with so little that it was depressing. "You really drugged me? B-but... Why? You could have just killed me or-"

Cat interrupted you with an obvious answer. "Okay, but where would all the fun be if I did that? If I didn't emotionally torture the BAU team with your kidnapping and make you suffer during the process?" Thinking from the perspective of a crazy psychopath, it was a valid point, but you could not help but keep your eyes wide, the words feeling like daggers in your chest, your confused mind still trying to assimilate the situation. "When I changed the plan to focus on you instead of Doctor Reid, I thought you were more... Smart."

The look on your face as she ran her hand across your neck made her laugh once again. Cat could feel how her breathing quickened, your chest moving up and down, your breasts pressed against your white bra. She saw how dilated your pupils were, despite the mental fatigue and sedative effects of the drugs. "But I still think you can be of great use. From what I gather, Reid's quite shaken due your kidnapping."

You frowned at what she was saying. You did not want to worry Spencer. You did not want to worry your friends. And you knew that was exactly what Cat Adams was causing. Using your ties to your co-workers to probably bargain for her own freedom. Or almost so.

"And what's your plan? Keep me trapped here forever? No one's going to give you what you want, Cat. No matter how hard you try to bargain with my team. You know the law doesn't work like that." You mumbled tiredly, but looking at her with contempt. Cat's sarcastic gaze disappeared for a few seconds, while she took a deep breath, now looking at you with a certain anger.

It was scary to say the least. You took one more look at her. She was still sitting on the free part of the bed, her big eyes analyzing you from top to bottom, just like you were doing too. Even though Cat was wearing a black dress that highlighted her perfect curves, your attention shifted the moment she bent her body to get something from under the bed, close to her.

"You're right... I can't play house with you forever." She scoffed, voice hoarser than before.

Your chains rattled as Cat stood up. If it were not for that disturbing situation, you might have gotten aroused by the sight of her ass in the tight fabric, but you could not think about anything else, you could not do anything other than struggle as you watched Cat place a camera resting on top of the chair that she had used to sit on most of the time she watched you during your sleep over the last few days. "Why are you gonna start recording?"

"Are you scared of me?" Cat said, finally turning to you, the smirk returning when she picked up the gun that was resting on the floor. Stupid fucking question, you thought. But you did not find yourself able to say anything for now. Anything you tried to say would come out more like whimpers or pathetic stutters. You would not be able to utter any decent sentences and looking even more stupid in front of Cat Adams was out of the question. "Don't be so fragile, princess. Where's all your smart ass that I witnessed after I managed to trick the BAU and escape from that restaurant? Where's all that angry screaming when you finally woke up?"

Cat continued, not waiting for an answer. "You look pathetic like this. I don't usually kill women, but you're annoying me... If I had known about that, I would have kidnapped your pretty boyfriend instead of you."

Your eyebrows furrowed, both at the insults and her obvious interest about Spencer. "He's not... He's not my boyfriend." You argued, deciding to add when you noticed Cat's curious face. "Not officially, at least."

Her giggle echoed through the basement. "Good to know. He'll like knowing you specified me that..." She pointed at the camera that was recording the two of you, the angle perfectly catching your vulnerable form tied to the bed. The realization of this made you try to bend your legs to avoid further embarrassment. It was ridiculous that you were shy for the members to see your underwear. You would probably already be dead by the time they could see that recording, it was not like a dead person's dignity was taken into consideration. "He loves you?"

Her question caught you off guard. It was random and invasive. Just no more invasive than the way she sat down next to you on the mattress again, her long fingers playing with the skin of your thigh and the other hand occupied with a gun, sliding it around your waist and giving you goosebumps.

You did not know what to answer. Yes? No? Maybe? Sometimes you thought so, when he was venting to you, letting you stroke his hair after cases, when he brought you coffee to your desk or fucking you hidden in the office...

However, sometimes you also thought not. When he still talked about Maeve all the time, when he distanced himself after a nightmare, when he refused to name how he felt about you...

Spencer was complex as hell. And that was exactly why Cat's question had destroyed you. If she asked you about your feelings for him, you could tell her that you had fallen in love with him at first sight, ever since you joined the BAU team a few months ago. But Cat definitely already knew that too.

"I... I think so. At least I choose to think so." You muttered after a while, finding the strength not to sound as pathetic as you feared.

Cat's gun moved down a little further, finding the front of the fabric of your panties. You did not move at first, trying to ignore the sudden urge to rub yourself against the cold barrel. Your clit was so sore, so...

"So needy." Cat scoffed as she watched how you bit your lip and closed your eyes to deal with the whole situation. "He hasn't fucked you in a few weeks."

You hated how right she was even when she was having fun at your expense, at the expense of your suffering. The answer was right in front of her... the way your thighs shook, your mind wandering between anger and self-loathing, your eyes squeezed shut in a weak attempt to distract yourself and not show her how affected you already were. Cat did not need to ask if she was right. She knew she was. And that was the worst part.

Even if you did not want to admit it, your body was needy. Ever since you and Spencer got into an argument before he went to the restaurant undercover as a potential customer and to try capture Cat Adams. It was supposed to be the perfect plan, but Spencer was so deep in thought about you and your stupid argument that he could not focus on the case. He could not focus on the Unsub in front of him. Cat had messed with his mind as well as yours. She had already found out enough about the BAU to know that there was something going on between you and the other agent. Knowing that Spencer would move mountains to try to find you, even if it was too late.

He could not lose you like he had lost Maeve. He could not go through all this again. He would not take it. Not after being so cruel with you.

"Why did you guys fight?" Cat increased the pressure of the barrel against your clit, making your back adjust upwards with an almost desperate cry when she suddenly changed the circular movements to movements from top to bottom, the chosen rhythm being a little more intense than the previous one.

You could lie. Make up any excuse, any fake outburst to avoid letting her know so much about you or your situationship with Spencer. But what would be the point? You were already having your first and last dance with the Devil. If you were going to die at the hands of Cat Adams, what mattered least was whether or not she would know your vulnerabilities. Nothing mattered anymore, she was going to kill you anyway, even if you confessed or not.

"Maeve." The name of Spencer's ex-girlfriend caused an instant chuckle from Cat. It was obvious. It was obvious that she would find this funny. She remembered Spencer telling her about the woman's murder. "He... He said he wished-" You cut yourself off as Cat slid the fabric of your panties down, the cold air of the room hitting your core before she went back to stroking the swollen bud, another giggle echoing between the walls when she heard the moan coming from your lips after she lowered the gun to your hole, not enough to fuck you completely. She was just teasing your wet pussy.

"What did he say he wished?" The question came in a mocking tone, her mouth moving down to your neck, leaving you with purple hickey marks and the red stains caused by her lipstick.

"Spencer said he wished he could trade my life for Maeve's. He would rather I die if it meant Maeve could come back."

Cat was silent for a while, despite raising the object until it was on top of your clit again, rubbing the gun against your pussy as new thoughts invaded her mind. Your moans became louder and more desperate, your back writhing and your legs shaking when you moaned in the most tearful, needy way she had heard in her entire life. No one had ever sounded like this before, so hungry for any touch that could distract you from the reality of what was happening. That you were kidnapped by Cat Adams and might not have long to live.

While your body contorted with Cat's kisses moving up from your neck to your jaw, you finally turned your face to look into her eyes, seeing her pupils dilated, her gaze now cold. Not with you, you could feel it. She did not seem that much crueler than before, at least not directly towards you. As if a switch had turned in her mind for some reason. "He'll regret his words, princess. Don't worry." Her free hand caressed your cheeks and an almost soft smile appeared. "I promise I'll make sure your death haunts Spencer until the end of his days."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[laundrymachin-inc]

(click for better quality)

*very* late valentine's day post (as in I started it 3 days before but it ended up taking me a month to finish it)

big fan of this bisexual guy🙏🙏

[gingerbread-in-july]

Under the cut lies my personal ranking of all of Spencer Reid's love interests, both actual and potential, from best all the way down to worst, plus a whole lot of unfiltered sassy commentary that nobody asked for. Then again, nobody asked for any of this, but my brain was just on one of its neurodivergent tangents. There's 11 total. Some of this- probably a lot of this- will piss some people off and I am truly sorry. I hope there's at least some other people out there who share my strong ass opinions.

1. Dorian Loker- I will never forgive these bitch ass writers for never following up on that storyline. He asked her out in Russian, for Christ's sake! One of the only times in the entire series he actually initiates a date with somebody. He complimented her coffee! For him, that may as well be a pickup line. He was finally moving on from Maeve. That was a huge fucking step. He was shy and unsure of himself, but he was clearly into her, he was flirting the best he could, and he fucking asked her out. Don't even get me started on him being into her enough to set aside his germophobia and touch her hand by the end of the episode. Or his gutted little expression when he realized he spoiled the book she was reading. They were adorable and they could have been everything. Of all the one-episode love interests, she's the one I'm most pissed at them for never fucking following up on. 

2. Ethan- They were not just friends. I read somewhere that Spencer was initially supposed to be bisexual. They might have scrapped that, but bi Spence still found a way. They for sure hooked up. For. Sure. The chemistry was just there. And I am not one of those weirdo bitches who are overly fetishistic toward m/m pairings. I'm too fucking gay myself to get off on two men together. But those two men for sure were a thing- and good for them. 

3. Austin the bartender- She was hot. They had chemistry. More chemistry than he did with his actual girlfriends. End of. 

4. Ashley Seaver- I know y'all hate her and that she wasn't technically a love interest. However, I guarantee that she would have been if they'd kept her around. They were definitely setting it up to be that way. And, you know what? They'd have been a damn cute couple. I'd have loved to see it. And no, the "sorry for asking" moment was not grounds to disqualify it. Everyone else said as bad or worse to him at some point. If you can ship him with a psychopath who drugged him, framed him for murder, got him falsely imprisoned and nearly killed, kidnapped and tried to kill his mother, and lied about r*ping him and getting pregnant? You can ship him with Ashley fucking Seaver. If you can ship him with his fucking doctor who used her own loneliness as an excuse to violate all kinds of professional and ethical codes? You can ship him with Ashley fucking Seaver. If you can, perhaps worst of all, ship J*id? You can ship him with Ashley fucking Seaver.

5. Lila Archer- I think their worlds were ultimately too different for them to work long-term, but I do think they would have made a sweet couple for a while. They would each give the other things that their worlds were lacking. They wouldn't have been endgame, but they'd have stayed good friends. Also, "bUt aMbEr hEARD" isn't the dunk you think it is. Johnny Depp is a rich, 60-something year old white man who is problematic as fuck in his own right- and he's never going to fuck you. 

6. Cat Adams- Do I want them to actually be together? No. Does she deserve him? Hell no. Would the people further down this list technically be better for him than her? Probably. But......the chemistry, y'all. The chemistry was there. Matthew and Aubrey just play far too well off of each other. 

7. Maeve Donovan- I didn't hate her, but she was just a vehicle to give Spencer more trauma. I don't think she was "the one," "the love of his life," or any of that other stuff some say. I don't think they'd have lasted if she'd lived. They didn't really know each other. She lied to him about having a whole ass fiancé she never told him about. God only knows what else he didn't know. He started out as her fucking patient, for God's sake. The ethical violations were out the ass. I don't think she'd have crossed those lines if she weren't feeling so vulnerable and isolated from having to hide from her stalker. At least, not if she's as smart as everyone claims she is. Everyone- including Spencer- only puts her on a pedestal because of the tragedy of her death and not knowing what could have been. What would have been had she lived......probably wouldn't have been all that great in the long run. 

8. Linda Kimura- I'll be honest, I don't recall a single damn thing about this woman. I forgot she even existed until I saw her pictured on a potential love interest compilation. While I don't recall them having any chemistry whatsoever, I'll still include her for the sole purpose of ranking her higher than the rest of these shit bombs. And speaking of bombs, that brings us to......

9. Dylan Einstein- For the life of me, I just don't understand why people go so hard for this pairing. It's like she was generated in a Mary Sue factory to fit some stereotype of what AI might imagine Spencer's ideal woman to be. Her last name is Einstein, for fuck's sake. I'd probably respect it more if they did just name her Mary Sue. They were trying too hard to present her as Girl Spencer. The bitch even wore a purple scarf! She also just came across as annoying and overly eager and seemed like she didn't really understand when to fuck off. She butted in too much while Derek and Spencer were trying to work. Some poster here said that the actress who played her shipped the character with Spencer. That is more than obvious in the way she plays her. It's like she read a bunch of Wattpad fic and decided to use the character to try for her Y/N moment. Can't blame a girl for trying, but that is one "love interest" I am glad was a one-off. 

10. JJ- What could I say that hasn't already been said? The J*id plot was painfully forced. Spencer has more chemistry with a fucking paperweight than he does with JJ. Do I love their friendship? Yes. Do I love watching Spencer interact with her kids? God, yes. But, he's Uncle Spencer, not Stepdaddy Spencer. The only way Spencer and JJ are more than friends is that they're found family. Will is an absolute saint of a husband. Fuck them writers for doing him dirty like that. Even pre-Will, Spencer and JJ just didn't have the chemistry like that. I'm glad they scrapped that bullshit early crush storyline after just one episode. Also, am I the only one who remembers Spencer being totally unaffected and not even giving half a shit when JJ finally came out to the team about being with Will? He said something along the lines of "We all knew already." He was so unbothered. No way in hell has he been "waiting for JJ" this whole time or whatever these clowns pulled out of their asses toward the end. Such a waste of a plot. Literally any other pairing would have made more sense. 

11. Maxine bitch ass Brenner- Here we are. Last and least. Even J*id was better than this shit. What the fuck even was the goddamn point of this bitch besides having an excuse to have Rachael Leigh Cook guest star? Too bad this is who she had to play. She was just rude as hell with her snark, her bitchy little expressions and the way she mocked the kids- elementary school aged kids- she taught. As if it was beneath her grandiose idea of herself. How could they for one second think that somebody like Spencer- somebody who loves kids, loves to teach and to learn and values education as much as Spencer- could ever like somebody like her? They were already having to cram way too much into too little space that last season. It was already a shit show. What the fuck was the point of adding her only to never bring her back? I mean, good call there at least because she sucked. I can only assume Spence realized how much she sucked and ditched her ass. She was just a pointless waste of time and never should have been a thing. I'm glad Spence made out with Cat in front of her and I hope it chapped her ass that he never kissed her that way. Glad her family didn't die, but she and they can all fuck all the way off down the road.

Thanks for sticking this one out if you did.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 9: His angel girl

genre: comfort, smut (minor do not interact!!)

word count: 5902

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you two take a step into getting back to normal... or at least trying.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

would like to welcome all the new readers and to dedicate this chapter to the beautiful @starofthedawn who's been reading and commenting on my chapters since the beginning <3 thank you for your undying support love! means the world!

“Happy Monday!” 

You want to shoot her in the head. You want to turn around, grab Officer Kaper’s gun from his holster, and shoot her in the head, and you want to stop wanting to shoot her in the head. For someone who probably had the most magical Sunday of her life, you are not in such great mood once the consequences of sleeping a total of two hours sets in. Spencer deals with it much better than you, and you wince just remembering how snippy you were when he woke you up with the same kisses that had you moaning just hours ago. Lucky for you, though, he only laughs and pushes a full mug of coffee your way. Spencer knows you well despite the little time you two have been living together. But then again, if he really tries, Spencer would know anyone well. 

“Ah, happy Monday,” You say, shooting Officer Kaper a look that has him snorting. “Did you have any questions about the starter email? Sorry it wasn’t super in depth, it’s my first time hiring someone to help me.”

“That is absolutely okay, I’m sure I can learn a lot from you today!” 

It should be exciting, finally having the store open full time and with help to keep it functioning, but you’re just so exhausted that you can’t find it in you to be your usual cheery self. Not when just hours ago, you were feeling like you had endless energy, charging through Spencer’s touches. 

After JJ left his apartment, quite begrudgingly, you must admit, you two finally have some time to breathe. It sounds cliche, really, cheering for the moments you two can be together without an audience, but lately, there has been so few of them that it’s almost impossible to not turn selfish when they come about. And my god, are you selfish then… Spencer can’t move to the kitchen without you following him. But to your credit, he doesn’t seem to be all that comfortable with moving away from you either, and that is how you two end up in his room, digging through his mismatched socks drawer with so much gusto that it might just look like you found the long lost treasure of Atlantis. 

“You have no matching socks!” You giggle, shivering a little when you feel his presence behind you. His breath hits your nape, and Spencer drops a gentle kiss there. “Sweetheart, do I need to buy you socks?” 

“No,” He mumbles and just by the tone of his voice you know he’s distracted with dragging his lips through your neck, biting, kissing, grazing. Spencer is having his own fun with you, one that has nothing to do with the fact that your feet are freezing and his heater seems to be giving up on getting his apartment at a liveable temperature. When you ask him to look into it, he chuckles and tells you that he can fix it, that he will fix it. This, however, doesn’t look like he’s fixing it. “But you can keep calling me sweetheart.” 

Cocking your head to the side, giving him more space to work his magic. Something inside of you keens at the way he grabs at your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there with a demanding attitude that is new and welcome, and you wonder if this has anything to do with how he finally spoke out. Taking control of a situation is always somewhat of a thrill, and you think Spencer is basking in his newfound confidence by pushing it a little further.

Not that you are complaining. Much to the contrary– a sharp exhale leaves your lips the moment he brushes those teasing lips on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, and you can feel the way he smirks, doing it again just to draw a whine out of you. “Spence,” Your voice goes all high pitched with the way he adds pressure with each kiss, the way his hands slide from holding you by the waist to encircling you completely. “Spence, what are you doing?” 

His chuckle sends another wave of shudders through you. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” He whispers back, taking one step, then another, and another, until your knees push against the edge of his mattress and his kissed turn into light suckles travelling all around. At this point, you get yourself ready for the bruises you can feel blooming on your skin. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me, I promise, angel. My angel girl…”

One day, when you think back to this moment, you’ll blame the ‘my angel girl’ for the way you so quickly clambered up to bed, hands grabbing him by that tie he insists on wearing even inside the house and tugging him down with a force you’ll probably never be able to conjure ever again. You’ll blame the ‘pretty girl’ and the ‘my Y/N’. You’ll blame the way his eyes plead, oh so quietly but never subtly, for you to get closer, to kiss him harder. You’ll blame him and his pretty lips, his pretty skin, his pretty legs. 

Everything about his is pretty, and you can’t help the excitement growing in you with each button undone. Oh, the amount of times you’ve dreamt of unbuttoning these shirts he religiously wears, uncovering inch of skin by inch of skin, dropping a kiss in every new bit of him that you get to see. Spencer is not as quiet as you thought he’d be– he rambles, and pants, and moans, and you smile because you know you’re the one dragging these sinful noises out of him, and you know that this show is all for you and you only. Spencer is not far behind though, and his hands are as equally busy– they pull, tug, rip, unzip; they do all they can until you’re left in your mismatched underwear and him, only in his boxer briefs. For some odd reason, you’re slightly disappointed that his tight underwear, outlining those beautiful thighs of his, are not purple. 

It’s cute, how his cheeks blush when his eyes land on your breasts, even if they seem stuck there for a while. “Spence,” You whisper, hand raising to caress his cheek. You are blushed yourself, redness going down your neck and chest, but you don’t mind it much, not when he seems to follow down the path of shyness you’ve created like it was the map to heaven. “Spence, is… is this okay?” 

“So much more than okay,” Spencer whispers back, face turning gently to kiss the palm of your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this okay for you?”

“So much more than okay,” You agree, smiling wide and pulling him down for another ravenous kiss. Like an instinct, your legs move to wrap around his waist, squeezing until every bit of him presses against every bit of you. 

And then you feel him, hot and heavy, and you exhale a sharp breath that has him jumping, trying to put some distance between you two as if he had somehow hurt you. “Are you okay?! Are you–“ You shut him up effectively with one more pull by the legs, hips dragging your heart against him and having him exhale as sharp as you. 

Raising your brow in a silent challenge, you mutter, “Are you okay?” With every word your lips brush against his and for once, in a long, long time, you feel good about yourself. You feel powerful, in command… sexy. The last time a man looked at you the way Spencer is looking at you had been years ago, and it hadn’t even been Josh. Josh never looked at you like that, like you could solve all his issues and pains with just one kiss, no, no; Josh looked at you like a challenge. A task. An objective. You never want to be looked at like that ever again. 

No. For the rest of your life, all you want is for Spencer to look at you like he’s doing right now. Specifically him, because if it’s not coming from those melting, honey eyes, you don’t want it. “Oh,” You breathe out, too lost in your head to have felt his hand moving upwards from your waist to sneak under your bra, nimble fingers squeezing it in an experimenting feel. From the way he bends down to kiss you, other hand rushing to unclasp the garment and throw it somewhere in the room, it must feel really fucking good. He takes it to a whole other level, though, when his lips– those lips you adore so much, that you spent hours watching move and talk and lecture– wrap around a perk nipple. “Oh, Spence…”

Sex is incredibly intimate for you. Is an act of giving and taking and giving back, and it’s a constant exchange that leaves you floating, on good times; on bad ones, it makes you feel as heavy as a rock. Just from his kisses alone you already feel weightless, so you know that from now on, there is only great things coming. Great things like how he grinds his hips down on you, catching onto your most sensitive spot again and again and again, and you’re not sure when was it that you desperately pulled his boxers down, but when you come back to yourself, climbing down from the building pleasure of having Spencer humping you like an uncontrolled teenager, you have him stark naked… and you’ll dream of this for the rest of your life. 

Naked Spencer is not the most confident, but he’s not coy about it either. In all fairness, you don’t think his brain, usually brilliant and expansive and now working in a one-track mind, is able to juggle a lot at the moment, and you chuckle at how awkwardly endearing he looks. One hand moves to push his hair our of his face, basking into the way he smiles at you, so brightly and larger than life. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, forehead resting against his. “So beautiful…” 

“I’m afraid that would be you, darling angel,” Spencer kisses you quickly rubbing his hands on your arms, your back. “So pretty for me… all mine.” 

“All yours,” You agree, arching into his touch. It’s not possessiveness that you catch in his voice, but desperation. Fear. Need. Spencer is not dominating you, he’s not taking and taking and taking; he’s simply going along with a pace that is set by the both of you. You two are like water, moulding to each other, soft yet strong. No one has more power than the other, and no one commends nor obeys. This is a collaboration of two weirdly shy people trying to push past their natural hesitations to make something beautiful. 

Your hand slides down his chest, between your bodies, and grabs a hold of his cock. For a man that despised touch, Spence let out an eager groan, pushing his hips up towards your touch, and you whine. You want to be touched too, and he catches on instantly. Your sweet profiler, reading you even when his eyes could barely focus on yours. “So good,” He said, clumsy mouth trying to kiss yours while speaking. “So fucking good.” 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Spencer curses, the word so foreign to him that you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through you right there and then. Spencer knows, too, with how he gently slides his hand under your panties, finger diving into your wetness shamelessly. “So fucking good.”

There is not embarrassment in how loudly the sounds your body makes echoes in the room. Mixed with both your breathing, your moans, and the way your skin hits so perfectly, the sound of your eagerness is just another instrument in the symphony of you guys’ pleasure. “Spence, come on,” You whine again.

When you try to push your underwear down your legs, Spence gently slaps your hand away, tutting at you with a glint of mischievousness. Instead, he hooks his own fingers on the sides of it and makes a point of dragging it down as slow as possible. By the time he has your legs up in the air and finally gets it off of you, you are wiggling in place. “Stay still,” He gently admonishes you, nipping at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. It’s almost like Spencer is adamant on killing you slowly, keeping you teetering at the edge of a precipice created by him and him only. It’s up to him to push you over. Safe to say, with the way his lips slowly move from you ankle, down your legs, inching closer and closer to where you want him the most, you are as good as dead already, now it was all about enjoying the ride. “I want to make sure I commit this to memory.” 

“Y-You have an eidetic memory, S-Spencer– oh my god,” Your voice wobbles a little at the first touch of his mouth to your folds. Despite your… occasional dirty dream of Spencer, you had no expectations for this at all. After your conversation with Penelope, it was obvious that your beautiful nerd hadn’t had the most common teenage-hood. He had never experienced those marks of growing up– had never made out under a bleacher, never passed notes to his friends during class, never put a sock on the door of his dorm. Besides Lila and Maeve, you know nothing about his past relationships, and you found Lila’s name because of an article that leaked a photo of them kissing on a pool. Sure, you weren’t all that glad to now have the picture of Spencer kissing someone else ingrained in your brain, but it made you happy to know he had people appreciating him for all he is, before you. 

So safe to say it surprises you to know that Spencer knows how to use his mouth, and knows it well. Part of you wants to look at him, watch him eat you out like the starved man he apparently is and try, your damned hardest, to never forget it. Unlike him, you’re but a mere human that, at the moment, is so lost in pleasure that you’re not even sure if you remember your name. Doesn’t take long to have you shaking in his hands, legs trembling around his head and hips pinned down by his hands. “Let go,” Spencer whispers, opening his eyes just for a second, just to catch a glimpse of your face as he licks you whole, just right until he’s able to wrap those lips– those sinful lips– around your clit. That is your undoing, and before you can even warn him, your thighs snap closed around his head and you cum, moaning Spencer’s name like he is the prayer that will keep you alive. 

“Hmmm,” He brings you back to life with the soft little trail of kisses he drops on his way back up. In his tongue there are traces of you, of your taste, of your soul, and you are addicted with well it mixes with him. “You truly are sweet, angel.” 

“And tomorrow, I’ll figure out how sweet you are,” It’s a promise and one that you full intend to keep, though right now you truly think you will go insane if you don’t feel him like how you’ve been yearning to all night. “But right now, I really need you to–“

“To what?” He asks when your voice dies down, suffocated by the sudden feel of his cock rubbing against you just right. “Hm? What do you need, angel girl? Tell me and I’ll do anything for you…” 

Seeing Spencer so lost in pleasure is something new. His hair looks wild and his eyes are hungry and curious, focused on you and you only. He catches every reaction, every little twitch of your hips, every breathy whine; Spencer memorises everything. This will be stored in a little box inside his head, for those nights alone in strange hotel rooms in even stranger cities. For the afternoons with too little work and too many insecurities clouding his head. For the mornings when you leave before him and he can’t make you whine his name like you’re doing right now. His name… my god, his name is all he wants to hear coming out of your mouth; his name and those little gasps that send jolts of electricity up and down his spine. When you look up at him, arms going around his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss Spencer is smiling. It’s bright and wide and true and you think– no, no you know– and you know you’re falling in love with this man. 

You hike a leg up his waist, brushing yourself all over him, and you smile back. It doesn’t last long, though, because Spencer chooses that moment to push inside of you, biting your shoulder in a failed attempt to hide the guttural groan rising up his throat. “Holy shit,” You mumble, eyes threatening to close. This is all very overwhelming– in the best way possible, surely, but still overwhelming. There is the sting of stretching grounding you, but it quickly dissolves into a pleasurable burn and you are sure you’re experiencing the best of both worlds, floating in an in-between space midway to heaven from Earth. 

Ever since Cat found out your name, you’ve been living in fear. Every day, every night, you can feel the thrumming of anxiety running through your veins– sometimes stronger, like your heart is about to beat itself out of your throat, and sometimes weaker, more of a hum in the back of your ribs; but it’s always there. 

Except for now. 

Right now, you feel nothing. 

You are drowning in a world of silence, in a motionless state of being… 

…until Spencer snaps his hips at you again and you feel more than you’ve felt your entire life. 

You feel alive.

On fire. 

Burning. 

Like every nerve in your body has been ignited, like your brain is working overtime, like the air in your lugs have been punched out of your body. 

You feel so much that you can’t even begin to put into words. But you don’t have to speak, not when Spencer whispers those sweet nothings into your ear as if he’s not filthily moving his hips and driving himself so deep into you you basically see start. “So pretty, my angel,” He whines, mouthing at your neck. “So good for me, feels so good, pretty girl. So perfect.” In his words, promises lay unsaid. Promises of love, adoration, fondness. Promises of kindness, gentleness, safety. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. I promise.” 

Nodding, you let your nails drag down his back, the sounds of it all getting a bit too much for you to handle. Spencer’s hoarse voice, the slap of his skin on yours, the breathy moans he lets out; everything seems to be getting to you, and you hope this never ends. You hope to feel like this for the rest of your life, like you don’t have to have a single worry in life, because Spencer’s got you. 

“Spencer,” You cry out, pulling him for a sloppy kiss. You two are a mess of tongues and teeth and lips and the more he fills you up, the more he pushes into the you, the more you’re willing to fall, fall, fall… and you so you fall. “Oh! Spencer!” 

Your orgasm washes over you like a crashing wave, approaching fast and silently but crashing loudly once it hits shore. It’s a surprise to you and apparently to him too, from how he groans the loudest he has so far. You tense up for a second or two or three or maybe even an eternity, squeezing around him oh so perfectly, enough to make him falter, arms giving out and almost having his whole body crash onto you. In his own desperation to cum, Spencer speeds up in such a delicious way that it feels like you’re in a never ending downward spiral, pussy fluttering around him until he pushes into you one last time. “Y/N…” Spencer moaned, keeping himself quiet with how hard he bites your neck, tensing as he let his pleasure wash over him in jerky movements of his hips before completely stopping.

Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you, laying by your side looking completely spent with a lingering hand on your waist. Takes him a bit, but eventually, Spencer gathers enough strength to pull you to him, kissing your forehead lovingly. “You’re… everything,” He breathes out, eyes running over your face to commit it to memory, to engrave it in a type of forever that only he knows. His own forever. You are his very own forever.  “Is it too corny to say thank you?” 

You laugh and look up at him. “Depends,” Cuddling closer, you let your lips graze over his ear. “Are you thanking me for a job well done?”

“Hmmm,” His chuckle reverberates through you. “A job very well done, sweetheart, yes.” 

“Then no, it’s not corny,” You giggle, trowing a leg over his waist. “But as an academic, I don’t think your sample is large enough to be reaching any conclusions yet, doctor.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not concluding anything yet,” Spencer shivers a little at your teasing joke, eyes darkening in a way that is surely becoming familiar to your. His little smile is enough to have you pushing yourself closer to him, kissing his neck gently. “I am making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis.”

“And what’s your hypothesis here, doc?” 

Clearing his throat, Spencer lets out a breathy hum and tugs you on top of him, thighs on each side of his waist so he can run his hands up and down your beautiful skin. “I think I need a bit more… education first, if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Cocking your head to the side, you smile brightly at him. “And how will you embark in this search for knowledge?” 

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how, angel girl.” 

In ten minutes he was kissing you all over again, muttering your name like a mantra. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at Abigail again, cheeks blushing when you realise where your mind had just gone. “Yes? Sorry Abi, what did you say?” 

“We have a consumer, could you help me with the cashier system?” And when Abigail smiles, you’re back to your sour mood. Honestly, you feel for her– you feel like a massive bitch who hates on a girl for absolutely no reason, but considering everything that’s been happening, her enthusiasm sending you for a loop.

“Of course!” Doesn’t mean you won’t still try and be a good boss. This is, after all, a place of business. Walking to her, you guide your new store manager through everything she needs to know; the cashier system, the ordering and cataloguing inventory, the filing system on the shelves. Much to your dismay, Abigail is a quick learner and she’s eager to help, jumping into the action as soon as a client walks into the store. You’re quite grateful for that, now having time to actually focus on the administrative tasks you’ve been putting away for ages, and when the time comes to close the store, you look at her with the friendliest smile you can handle under the current exhaustion and soreness that took over your body overnight. “You did great,” You promise, locking the door behind you. “Honestly, I could already work that much better with you handling everything, thank you very much.” 

“It was my pleasure!” Abigail smiled. “Will I be given a key for the days you’re not coming in?” 

You didn’t think that far, but the thought made you shift a bit uncomfortably. Giving her entrance to the bookstore so freely means you’re giving her entrance to your apartment just upstairs. And besides Officer Kaper and the BAU team, no one knows where you live. The goal is to keep it that way. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it, for a while I intend on coming in every day to make sure your introduction to the store is smooth and seamless!”

“Sounds perfect!” When you finish locking the door, you turn around to find her waiting with an expectant expression. “I uh, I don’t mean to bother you boss, but how about some drinks to celebrate the first day? You can come over now that I’m fully decorated!”

The invite is kind, and as much as you really want to go home and kiss your boyfriend silly, you can’t. You can’t tell her no, not again and again and again, and to your surprise, and hers, you nod. “Yeah, why not? You deserve it. Should I stop at the store to buy anything?” 

Quickly shaking her head, Abigail starts guiding you both back to the building calling your name. At least she lived a total of one floor away from Spencer. “No, no, I have everything back home to make some mojitos.” 

“Then we’ll order some pizza,” You chuckle, following her inside and up the stairs. “On me!” 

“Deal!” 

Her apartment is strangely familiar. It looks a lot like Spencer’s, though you can’t help but miss the muted shade of green that adorn his walls, surrounded by a bright pit of white instead. Everything about her place screams single female; the neutral furniture, the romance books piling by the sides of the couch, the quirky decorations that bring some type of colour to the room, and the obvious excessive amount of throw pillows everywhere. “Sorry for the mess,” Abigail chuckles, closing the door behind you and immediately trying to organise the living room. But you see the charm in how it is, and you don’t really mind being in a house that looks like someone lives in. 

“Don’t worry about me,” You wave at her. “I like being in a house that feels like a home.” 

“Have you ever considered being a writer?” The question makes you laugh. “Sometimes you say some very poetic things and I swear they would sound great in a book.” 

“I’m happy selling other people’s books,” Is all you give her, shrugging at her suspicious glance. “So… Pizza?” 

You don’t want to admit it, but at one point, you start having fun. It’s right after the awkward talking time and just as the pizza arrives that you two start laughing together, giggling at crazy stories from her old jobs. For a moment, this feels right– feels like what a girl’s night should feel like, with the gossiping, the drinks, the greasy food, and the shitty romance movie playing in the background without you paying attention to it, besides a couple of comments on how Jude Law is so cute. “…And then he wrote his number on the receipt and gave it to me! The audacity!”

Abigail has just finished telling you the story of how she met her ex and you chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly, I lucked out with my customers. You’ll see that soon, but so far, everyone’s been incredible. I had some horror stories from the stores I worked at back in Manhattan, but thankfully they haven’t followed me here.” 

“Hmm,” Abigail is sitting in front of you, happily munching on her food while she squints at you. “Is that how you met Spencer Reid?”

You choke on a bite of crust and the way you have to wash it down with your mojito is ridiculous. The alcohol burns through your throat but at least you can breathe better. “Uh, Spence?”

“Yeah, Spencer Reid,” Abigail chuckles. “The neighbour upstairs. Your… something. Is he your boyfriend? You never really clarified.” 

Blushing, you nod. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” Saying those words out loud feels surreal, like you have suddenly added a seal of authentication to it all. “We’ve been– We are dating.” 

“Oh,” This is the least enthusiastic you’ve seen her all night, and something tickles your brain. Is she disappointed that you two are officially dating? Is she into Spencer?! “Good to know. Uh, did you meet him at the store?” 

“Yeah,” The mood quickly turns upside down and tension settles where laughter previously occupied. “We’ve been friends for a while, though, and I uh, I used to watch his apartment while he was out of town for work and he’d bring me books and–“

“Is he out of town a lot?” This. This is exactly why you always feel weird next to Abigail– her invasive questions. “For work, that is.” 

“I–“ What are you supposed to say to that? Yes. He travels regularly and I’m constantly vulnerable and alone at his apartment? Absolutely not. “I mean, sometimes, but he can take cases from home.” 

“Cases? What does he do again?” 

“Oh,” You need to change the subject right now. “Spencer, he uh, he works with–“ 

You are not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth, but you and Spencer had never discussed a story, a cover up; but then again, you two had never discussed being separated. A certain level of codependency has instilled thanks to the current situation, and it just makes sense to assume you’d always be together in social situations. 

“Because Officer Kaper also knows him, right? He said something back at the store, and I was curious.” 

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Abigail is the one who will kill you. Cat knows Spencer works for the BAU, why would her partner be kept in the dark? Logically, nothing about this makes sense, and you might be overthinking and overreacting, but telling her about Spencer’s private life still feels wrong. Dirty. Like you’re breaking his trust just with a couple of words. 

Gulping, you nod, looking around with a nervous chuckle. “He uh, he works in a governmental agency,” Taking a deep breath, you think of semantics, of words that mean the same thing but can be as vague and open-ended as possible. “Some team I forgot the name. You know how those things are, you can be as close as possible with someone and still not be able to tell what they do for a living.” 

Her laughter is enough to have you breathing easier. “Oh my god! I so know what you mean… but when you really like someone, I think you remember the little things you know. Or at least I do. I still remember that book you mentioned on our first interview–“ Shuffling to grab something behind her, she shows you the cover of the book you mentioned a while back. “I’m halfway through and it’s absolutely incredible!” 

Holding back the impetuous Spencer remembers everything that you so badly want to throw at her, you just chuckle. With every word Abigail speaks, it feels like she’s throwing a dig at either Spencer or your relationship with Spencer, and you’re not sure which one makes you angrier. “I’m glad you like it,” You say, and the buzz of your phone saves the day. It’s been buzzing for a bit, but you didn’t mind checking it much while you were having fun. Now that things have gone a tad south, you can’t wait to come up with an excuse to go home. “Sorry, let me just– oh… Abi, I’m sorry, but I think I need to go home.” 

3 missed calls. 8 new messages. All from Spencer. Quickly helping her clean everything, you smiled. If this is going to work, you need to put in as much effort as Abigail is. You need to stop being afraid. You need to be honest with her. You need to do a lot… but not tonight. Tonight you’ve done enough. 

“Thank you again for having me, this was actually fun,” You smile, giving her a quick hug before opening the door and stepping out onto the hallway. “We can go to work together tomorrow, if you want! Text me when you’re about to leave?”

“Oh!” That is enough to have her smiling wide. “Yes! Amazing, I will!” 

One last wave and you’re running up the stairs, unlocking Apartment 23 with the key Spence gave you. “I’m so sorry!” You call out as soon as you’re inside, bag and shoes dropped by the door as soon as you spot him sitting on his couch. “Spence, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I was hanging out with Abigail after work and she made mojitos and we got pizza and–“

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Getting up, he walks to you and cups your cheeks, eyes searching for… something… in yours. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay. Better now, but okay,” You mumble back, kissing his lips gently as a reassurance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was going to Abigail’s.” 

“You should’ve,” Spencer sighs, nodding with a small smile. “I was really worried… But then I called Garcia and she pulled the cameras, so I knew you were downstairs.” 

“Uh… Babe, I don’t know if that’s the best use of–“

“I don’t care, I was going out of my mind,” His arms squeeze you closer and he hides his face on your neck. “I know you can’t be here 24/7, and we talked about you going back to work, but… but let’s try and let each other know where we are more often? Just while this Cat thing is not solved, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree. Your lips press against his forehead lovingly. “Yeah, I’ll do better.” 

“Thank you, angel. Did you have fun?” 

“I did, for a while. But then Abigail started asking some… personal questions and I just– it sets me off, I don’t know why,” You are clearly frustrated with yourself, sighing and letting your body fall on the couch. In a beat, your arms open for him, inviting Spence to lay with you for a moment. “She asked where you work. I said a ‘governmental agency’ and I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide you from strangers, like she’s going to try and do something to you if she finds out details about your life.” 

When he lays down, you curl into him. “You’re protecting me, and that is really cute,” Spencer clarifies. “Maybe she’s just desperate for a friend, you know? I certainly have been there before, it can make you lose a bit of that common sense that should kick in and hold you back from putting your foot in your mouth, or any other idiot expression people use.” 

“Could be,” Truth be told, you don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. You don’t want to think about Abigail, you don’t want to think about Cat, you don’t want to think about anyone but Spencer. 

You want to bask in your silence. In you quietude. 

You want to feel normal again. 

This feels normal again. 

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you today.” 

Yeah… when he giggles; when he kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; when he mumbles excitedly about his day… it all feels normal. 

---------------------------------------

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