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#cat adams x spencer reid
archivomeow · 1 month
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i love cat and spencers dynamic so much.
like okay she’s crazy, but i adore the teasing sm and each episode she is in actually has a good plot and it’s so fun to watch.
spoiler below !!
currently watching the episode where they go rollerblading and oh my god, THEIR DYNAMIC. anyways im kinda sad cuz that will ruin his relationship with that girl he met at the park, she was in the show like twice, but her and meave were his best romantic storylines so far, he met her in a silly way but i like their dynamic so far, missing maeve tho, THEY WERE SO GOOD TOGETHER.
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Okay so hear me out…
What if Stiles was a Cat Adams/Spencer Reid love child?
As in, what if Cat was a little different and alive? What if she and Spencer are married and in witsec?
What if what Cat’s mother was a True Spark and Gerard killed her, kidnapping Cat and turning her into the killer she is. What if she remembers Gerard as her father because she was too young to remember her real father?
I can’t explain it fully, but I just. I can see it.
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matthewsgreybubbles · 26 days
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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.)
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uranometrias · 14 days
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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
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like look at him ??? he needs to be sedated !!
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entrop-y · 1 year
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to be honest, i fucking hate when people use the scene after spencer talks w cat in “date night” for “hot” edits/thirst traps because clearly he was having a panic attack
like oh yes, he’s clearly distressed after confronting someone who tormented him, he rips off his tie because he can’t breathe, and then lashes out (don’t even get me started on how the later seasons gloss over spencer’s anger issues after prison), wowza so attractive :/
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forhappysake · 4 months
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more spencer collages 😌
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Wildest Dreams | Reidams
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A/N - This is for Maze’s @tobias-hankel Pre-Whumptober Challenge and was influenced by their fic Dad or Daddy. Please read the tags carefully and DNI if you are triggered by any of the topics mentioned.
Bad Thing: rape / non-con
Bad Person: Cat Adams
One Line Prompt: “Are you going to be the boy who cried rape again, Spencie?”
Summary - Right before Cat Adams is executed she can’t help but ruminate on the things she didn’t do…
Warnings - dead dove do not eat, rape non-con, non consensual somnophilia, post Date Night, nightmares, swearing, brief mention of male masturbation, talk of death penalty, oral (m receiving), handjob, restraints, penetrative, unprotected sex, belly bulge, sub! Spencer, Dom! Cat (at least right up until the end), tears, choking.
WC - 4.8k
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Ever since Spencer Reid’s release from Milburn, he’d been suffering from nightmares. At least once a week he would awake in a cold sweat, his throat ravaged from screaming, heart thumping aggressively against his chest. After four months it had just become the norm to him and honestly he got used to them, started to almost lean into them. 
But after four months the nightmares of being trapped in a cell, of being beaten and forced to sling drugs warped into something different entirely, some might say they were worse and on the surface Spencer would agree with that summation. However internally, these new dreams didn’t scare him as much as they should. 
They revolved less around prison and more around the woman who put him in there. Those intense dark eyes and sinful visage of the woman who made his life hell, who had him arrested, had his mother kidnapped and claimed to have had him sexually assaulted. 
“I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood.” 
“What, did she pretend to be you?” 
“Why? Would that have worked?”
“No.”
“Yeah I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid ‘hot or not’ list.” 
But the thing was, Cat Adams didn’t know where she stood on that list because as much as Spencer would rather die than admit as much out loud, he found Cat to be unfathomably attractive. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful and alluring but he admired her brain, no matter how sick and twisted it could be at times. And so he found he didn’t actually mind when his prison nightmares shifted to dreams of Cat climbing into his bed and having her wicked way with him.
These dreams still caused him to awake with his heart rampantly beating and oftentimes screaming but for completely different reasons. And he would find himself painfully aroused and even sometimes he would wake to discover he had come in his pyjama pants. 
These dreams continued for years, he told himself it was just his brain's own way of dealing with the trauma of being sexually assaulted, the only way he was able to process the fact that Cat had Lindsey violate him in such a way. 
And then he’d had to come face to face with her again after Cat’s partner kidnapped Max’s father and sister. 
“You haven’t done me? You sexually violated me in Mexico.” 
“I did? Are you sure? The drugs that made you hallucinate, they flood your brain with serotonin, right? So what does that mean when it comes to…?”
“It’s similar to MDMA, it’s hard too…”
“That’s right. Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie, it’s not a good look.” 
Of course it was a relief to know Lindsey hadn’t raped him, but it didn’t stop those dreams, if anything they became even more vivid, especially after he finally found out what it would be like to kiss her. 
Honestly when she’d stood in the doorway of his apartment, looking at him the way she had been, it had been impossible for him not to kiss her. He didn’t even care that Luke and Prentiss and the SWAT team were there to witness it, he physically couldn’t keep his hands off of her for another second. 
And in truth, had Max not been behind that door he may well have dragged Cat inside of his apartment and fucked her right then and there. He knew how wrong it was, he knew he should be disgusted by her. But Spencer wanted Cat with a white hot burning rage even if it was taboo. 
It was inevitable that he wouldn’t make things work with Max after that kiss, he may never be able to make things work with anyone after that experience. Their terrible third date had been their last and after walking her to the elevators at the BAU, Spencer never saw her again.
In the weeks that followed Spencer spent most of his sleeping hours and countless amounts of his waking ones thinking about Cat Adams. If his team noticed he was preoccupied they didn’t mention anything, but then again when did they? 
The day before Cat’s scheduled execution date, Spencer felt an odd sense of unease all day. He had planned to go to Mount Pleasant tomorrow, look her in the eye one last time but he’d talked himself out of it. He needed to put Cat behind him once and for all and watching her die wasn’t going to make up for all the things she’d put him through.
The world was a better place without Cat Adams, that he was certain of. But also couldn’t help but wish he had the chance to do more than just kiss her. Although, if it had ever actually come to it he was certain he wouldn’t have followed through with his hidden desires. That was one line Spencer could not cross and if he did he would never come back from it. It probably wouldn’t stop him from dreaming about it though. 
Continue reading on AO3
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emilyprentitts · 1 year
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The Way it is Now.
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This is my first post of drabble. I’m rewatching CM at the moment because I miss the young BAU. 
This is just writing I suppose, missing Spencer and who he was before.
*no gender of narrator given. this is so non specific i’m sorry. take it as you want. word count: 861*
I remember the first time I saw him, so so clearly. But he’s so different now. I wish I could go back and hold him once more, the innocent Reid I once knew that craved me in the most endearing, gentle yet intense way. 
After everything he’s not quite the same. Sometimes I get a glimpse of the boy genius, but not very often. On his 24th birthday, Hotch said, “Isn’t is amazing what he knows and he’s only 24?”, with which Gideon replied, “Imagine what he’ll know when he’s 50.”  I think about that a lot. Did Jason curse him with that statement, because Reid knows far too much now. Not just things in theory, but he has experienced things he could have gone his whole life without knowing.
He’s colder now. Not in a cruel way, but something is missing. It’s not very often that he rambles; if he does he’s not particularly interested in what he’s saying, merely saying it because he thinks it may be helpful. He doesn’t talk about Halloween anymore, or play chess with anybody but himself, or go to those weird Russian plays. Don’t get me wrong his hair looks good messy, but I know it’s not a choice - it’s because he can’t be bothered anymore. 
I think Cat Adams really tipped him over the edge. He’s teaching right now, I know that much. There would have been a time where I would know how he was doing, or what he was reading, or what he had for lunch.. you name it I probably knew about it. We were pretty close in the beginning, I joined the BAU pretty early, not as early as him but early enough, so we stuck together and learned from each other. We got so far as hookups once. I know that sounds like there was no love there, but trust me there was. It would have been a relationship if we were allowed, I mean it’s not like the team didn’t know but nobody said anything either to keep the peace or because they knew we needed each other then. Or maybe, somehow, they knew it would all fall apart. 
Ever since Tobias Hankel, he didn’t have the same charm. It’s almost like, over the years you can see life make him wither away. He was clingy after Emily ‘died’ and came back, he needed stability and I was there, maybe just as a friend looking back on it. Then Gideon died. The only father figure he had was actually gone. I think he pretended it didn’t hurt him as much as he’d like to admit, he became distant then. Then, well, Cat Adams. He was so distant, yet so passionate about me. He wasn’t romantic anymore, just there. I could feel the love but I think the ability to love was wiped out of him. How could he love himself enough to love me after he kissed the woman that ruined his life completely? That was kind of what she was good at though, almost the femme fatale of his story. 
I hate that this is how I talk about him now. I am so sorry Spencer. You are the only person that I thought would never hurt me, you didn’t in a way, but at the same time you did. You didn’t leave me like my brain told me you would, but equally, you’re not here anymore. You are not the man I fell in love with, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.
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spencewalterreid · 6 months
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in my empathy for cat era. cat is in her jealous about jj era.
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okimargarvez · 1 year
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Things that drive me mad:
we saw
Battle / Garcia date
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Reid / Cat date (double)
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(and also the kiss!!! Don't let me talk)
Luke / Lisa date (double)
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But nothing about GARVEZ DATE! 🤯😡🤬
All my ramblings
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wrenreid · 2 years
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Conflict of Interest
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mature topics discussed in this story. all chapter in masterlist. content warning: mentions of SA (not real), death penalty, murder, violence, self hatred… (there’s going to be a lot of moments that actually happened in the episode, but I’m making it my own)
Chapter Twenty-Two: Date Night
Spencer’s pov:
She was wearing some sort of muzzle when the guards guide her to me. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was wearing a shit eating grin of victory. The bags under her eyes were prominently purple, and if she were anyone else in the world, I would have had some sympathy.
-
The conversation we had when she requested this date goes through my mind unpleasantly. For years, I lived with the fact that she violated my mind, my body- she used a barely conscious me for her own sick plans.
“Don’t be the boy who called r*pe, Spencie. It’s not a good look.”
I lived for years believing she sexually violated me; I spent years trying to get the image of that out of my head. After a long time, I had finally been able to have sex again without thinking of what she’d done… All of that only to find out that was just another one of her lies, a sick game she was playing to fuck with my head. She’d won that round.
During that conversation, I was calm and stoned faced, not letting her see how that had affected me. I told her, “The only date I’ll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”
But she had convinced me even if I hadn’t shown it then. She had convinced me by threatening her own family.
“Enjoy eternal nothingness; it’s a metaphor for your life,” I said and walked out.
“Nice to see you too, Spencie.” I could practically feel the smile on her face as she used the nickname she knew I hated. She knew that even though our scores were 2 to 0, me in the lead, that she would get what she wanted here.
That was when I found an empty room and tore my tie off to try and relieve the choking feeling in my throat. I looked down at the ground, unable to breathe correctly.
JJ looks at me with a silent plea to not go through with this, but there’s no point. They’ve all begged me to tell her to fuck off and deny her request. Well, they said it in less harsh words. But they know I won’t back out.
Catherine Adams is wearing something other than the orange jump suit she deserves to sport when we walk toward the elevator, her arm in mine. She’s smiling so deviously it makes me a little nauseous.
I look to my friend’s one last time before my inevitably doomed night. They’re all looking back at me with worry and disgust for the situation. But I don’t need that, I need support. The scared and concerned look plastered on Garcia’s features makes me want to wrap my arms around her and assure her that I will be okay.
“Don’t wait up!” Cat calls as we pile into the elevator. I’m not looking at her, but I can see the devilish smile she’s wearing. I can see her brown eyes gleaming with evil triumph. She’s getting what she wants; she always gets what she wants.
The faces of my family, my concerned and queasy looking family, disappear behind the closing elevator doors. I take a deep breath. Now it’s just Cat and me, and the two guards on either side of us there to assure that she doesn’t try to escape and/or slit my throat or anyone else’s.
The SWAT car takes us to the skating rink. I step on the gravel of the parking lot and offer her my hand to use for help out of the car. She takes it, and the feeling of her hand in mine makes me want to be sick, but I’m cool and collected… I think.
“This isn’t want I wanted,” her nagging voice says.
“It’s the best I could do,” I tell her, adjusting my suit jacket.
When she protests that it’s not what she wants, I tell her, “Skating is skating. What does it matter?”
She gives me a snarky remark. “It matters because if I had asked to hang out with a bunch of 6th graders I would’ve asked to come here. But I didn’t, did I?”
I refrain from rolling my eyes at the woman with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “I put in the request, Cat, and the answer was no.”
“Why?”
“Because we can’t risk giving you access to a bladed tool,” I say sternly.
“What, I’m going to use an ice skate to slice your neck open? Grow up,” she rolls her eyes, tone annoyed.
The armed men behind her cock their weapons which she turns around with an even more annoyed voice, “Relax.”
After arguing a bit more, she starts to get back into the van, but I win her over with talk of our “anniversary.” And after getting something, barely something, out of her about the location of her dad and half sister, we head into the rink.
“Hold my hand, it’s dark inside,” I command.
She takes my scarred hand in hers, the hand Y/n holds and traces the faded lines with a gentle touch. I’m aching to see her right now.
“You know we just had our first fight, right?” Cat glances up at me with a grin.
When we get in, I tell Luke to light up the disgustingly cheesy surprise I’d planned for Cat. I absolutely hate it, but I know she won’t.
After I fetch skates for both her and myself, we put them on and step onto the rink. I almost fall immediately, but she grabs hold of my arm and catches me.
As the two of us skate, hands in each other’s, the smile on her face seems genuine. She almost appears normal. And for a brief moment, it feels like this a real date full of smiles and laughs and fun. But reality kicks me in the ass quickly, well the floor kicks me in the ass because I’m on the ground and Cat is giggling at my fall.
She helps me up and our chests are pressed together for a moment. She seems like she’s about to lean in for a kiss, and my mind is spinning telling me to run away. But I can’t, I’d have to skate away, and as my lack of coordination proves, I suck at skating.
I ask her some questions as we continue to skate, and I continue to try to not fall again. A particular question about the fetus that once lived in her womb sets her off. I tell her I was trying to use the maybe new found empathy against her; she suggests I use sex against her. The thought of sleeping with her makes me sick and somewhat excited. I hate myself for that.
A ring coming from my pocket breaks the moment. As I answer the call, not even looking at who it’s from, Cat whines and tells me to deny it.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey,” her voice sounds in my ear. “Sorry to call unannounced, but I was getting worried.”
“I’m sorry,” I say honestly. “I’ve been so busy with work… I promise I’ll explain later.”
“Spencie, cmon!” Cat whines louder.
“Um are you with someone?”
I don’t even try to deny it. “I’ll explain later I promise. It’s not what you’re thinking. I’ll tell you all about her.”
“Her?”
“It.”
“It?” Y/n’s voice is both annoyed and shocked at my change of pronoun.
“I promise,” I say again.
“Fine,” she huffs, hanging up.
I put my phone in my pocket and try to ignore the gut wrenching feeling of the pain I just gave my girlfriend. I look back to Cat who is now making her path away from me.
“What are you…?”
“Was that your girlfriend?” She asks me, cutting off my question.
“No. I can explain,” I say sternly. I’m not giving her that.
“I’ve spent my entire adult life reading men, I know when they’re thinking about someone else.”
“Yes, I’m dating someone, but that doesn’t mean..”
“Do you know what this was for me?” She asks, looking up to me as she takes the skates off her feet. “I didn’t ask for one last family visit, I didn’t want one final meal. I wanted this. And you can’t even give me the curtesy of your undivided attention before I’m executed. So thank you very much, but this date is over.” She requests the lights be turned off and we all leave.
“She’s not you,” I say before I even realize the words have left my lips.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying,” I tell her. “I wish I was, but I’m not. There’s some part of my brain that you somehow inhabit, and no woman no matter how good, no matter how kind, no matter how sexy she is can never get you out.” I hate myself more and more as the truth spills out.
“Do you think about me when you kiss her, or fuck her?” She asks with an almost grin.
I try to keep a calm face. “I haven’t done that,” I lie, trying not to make her angrier. I want her to think she has stopped me from enjoying anyone else.
She demands she sees my apartment after she finds out Y/n has been there. I agree with a long sigh.
She antagonizes me at my door, driving me crazy and continuing to not shut up. So I give her something she wants. I give her something she thinks Y/n hasn’t had. I kiss her. My hands cup Cat’s face, and I kiss her. The passion behind it is something I wish I was faking.
In the midst of our lips colliding, I didn’t even notice she had opened my door.
What I see inside my apartment makes me nauseous. It’s a face I want to see every second of my time on earth except for this one, except for when I had just kissed Cat Adams or anyone other than her.
Y/n is standing there, her eyes widened with shock. She’s practically shaking now as she drops a bag she was holding.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Cat says, wiping her mouth of my saliva, her lips turned up in a grin.
“I-I was just getting my stuff,” Y/n stammers out, not even looking at me. “What the hell just… Never mind, I don’t care.” Her voice is angry now and she starts to leave.
Cat stops her, close enough to her to touch her. I want to scream at her to back away, but I can’t. “Not so fast.”
“Let her go, she has nothing to do with this,” I demand.
“She has a little to do with this. This is the thing that’s been keeping you from putting all your attention on me all night.”
“Cat, let her go.”
What happens next is something that’s almost a little fuzzy in my mind. Catherine keeps her in my apartment and toys with her a little, picking apart our relationship. Y/n refuses to look at me as she talks to the evil woman playing with both of our minds.
Eventually, somehow, Cat is out smarted once again. Y/n accidentally helped me figure out what was happening. The poor soul was slightly terrified the whole time as she carefully retreats from the black widow’s web of lies.
I know that Cat got in her head about the type of person I am. I can see it in her eyes as she leaves the apartment, glaring up at me for a split second.
I want to run after her and explain, but I have work to do. I have a psycho woman to deal with and people to save from her silky traps.
Your stomach is aching in the most horrendous, heart breaking way. Your heart is caught in your throat, and if you tried to scream, which you want to, it would come out broken and quiet.
The night’s events hardly make sense as you run through them in your mind. Obviously, the woman Spencer was with was some master minded criminal. Someone who was skilled at deceiving and manipulating.
If you hadn’t seen the passion and desire behind Spencer’s eyes as he pulled away from the kiss they shared, you wouldn’t have believed a single word the woman uttered about your boyfriend. But since you did see it, you can’t help but question him. Question his loyalty, his commitment, his character.
You sit on the floor of your dorm alone, luckily Nina was out on a date with the girl they’d been seeing. Tears begin to spill from your eyes and drip down to your knees as you hug them close to your chest. You cry because the imagine of Spencer kissing her, his hands in her hair replays in your mind; you cry because you don’t know who he is anymore; and you cry because you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.
The sick feeling in your stomach consumes your entire being, making you shake and tremble as tears continue to make a river beneath you.
After a time you’re not even sure of, you hear a knock on your door. It has to be the middle of the night because of the placement of the moon and the darkness you can see from the only window in your dorm room. You’d fallen asleep on the floor beside your bed, curled up like a baby who’d cried themselves to slumber.
“Y/n,” the voice on the other side of the wood whispers. “Y/n, please let me in.”
It’s Spencer: the person you’re both craving to see and wanting to never see again.
“Y/n,” his voice says again, your name a plea on his lips. “Please.”
You stand up and open the door, not making eye contact nor uttering a word.
“I can explain,” he says, exactly what he said on the phone several hours before.
He immediately notices you’ve been crying, and reaches his hand up to touch your face gently and wipe away the phantom tears from your puffy cheeks. You grab his wrist and shake your head.
He flinches, but gives you a look of understanding. You sit down on your bed, eyes averted to your hands in your lap.
“Her name is Cat Adams,” Spencer says from his spot standing in front of your bed, several feet away from you.
“What a great start,” you say with a dry, unamused laugh, “with the name of the woman you made out with.”
He bites his lip sadly, but doesn’t let it affect him anymore than that. Or at least doesn’t show it. “Our battle of sorts started years ago. When I outsmarted her and threw her in prison, she sought revenge. She got a prison guard and someone on the outside to do her bidding.
“She used my greatest weakness at the time, my love for my mother, against me. The medicine I was seeking to help my mom’s illness improve was only in Mexico, and it was illegal. I knew the risks, but I thought I had to take them. For her. Cat sent her minion to follow me in Mexico. Lindsey drugged me and forced me to murder the dealer, or at least she got me to stab her then finished the job,” he tells you.
Spencer takes a deep breath. “I was found with a dead woman and a deadly amount of cocaine in my system, which fucked up my sobriety. I ran from the cops, driving away in my adrenaline fueled, high state. Eventually, I was caught and they found pounds and pounds of meth and cocaine in the truck I was driving. I was arrested and taken to a Mexican jail.”
“That’s why you were put in prison,” you say in a soft whisper. “which fucked up my sobriety.” He said. That sentence broke your heart. You’d found a bunch of chips in his dresser one time while doing some innocent girlfriendly snooping. You’d known a little already about the case during which he’d been drugged.
Even though he doesn’t know you found that out, he doesn’t let your sentence phase him much. He nods. “There was too much evidence not in my favor… I was there for months. I did some things I would rather never speak of again. But eventually, I was out and Cat had my mother in her grasp. It was terrifying and scary, but we got to her before Lindsey could blow her up.”
Your eyes widen even more than they already were. You’re sick to your stomach, but now with sympathy for him.
Spencer takes another deep breath. “Cat told me she had gotten pregnant with my child while I was in my high haze…” he chokes on his words a little, and it shatters your heart into a million pieces. “I found out only yesterday she hadn’t.. um… assaulted me in that way.”
“Oh my God,” you choke out, tears welling up in your eyes again.
“Look, I’m not asking for your sympathy. I’m just trying to explain to you what today was… I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. I’ve changed - a lot - since her attacks on me. I’m not proud of who I am some days, most days. I’m angered easily, I can be violent… I… I hate myself. And not just because of all of that. I hate myself because for some reason I am tied to her.”
You nearly flinch at his last sentence.
“I’m tied to her in a way I cannot explain. I think about her often. I- I…”
“You felt something when you kissed her,” you say.
He doesn’t deny it. In fact, he nods his head. “I did. I hate that I did, but that doesn’t make it not true.”
You look back to the ground, feeling a little angry at him. But mostly angry at yourself because even though he’s just poured his heart out to you about his past, you’re still mad at him for his twisted relationship with her.
“I agreed to the stupid date because I knew it needed to happen for two reasons. One, so I could save the people she’d used as leverage. And two, so I could have a proper goodbye. So I could kiss her g- so I could tell her goodbye and my life would be rid of her,” Spencer tells you, sitting on the edge of Nina’s bed.
“I’m sorry,” you say sadly.
“Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything.”
“I’m for what she’s done to you. I’m sorry for everything bad that’s happened to you. And I’m sorry that I’m still angry.”
He looks down at his hands, picking at his nails. “It’s okay..”
“No, no it’s not. It’s not okay. None of this is okay!” You yell, wiping tears off your face.
“Look, Y/n, I understand if you’re done with me. This was a lot to take in, and you don’t deserve the way I may lash out or what I did with Cat or-”
“I’m not done with you,” you say honestly. “And I’m not worried that you’ll hurt me the way you’re so scared you will.”
You’ve known for a while why he was so hesitant with you at first and why he’s hardly let you in even since you’ve gotten so close. He’s scared of you, scared of the relationship, but most of all, he’s scared of himself. He doesn’t trust himself.
“You’re a good a guy, Spencer. And I know you refuse to believe that at times, but you are. Under the scars, under the bruises and wounds and spite and hatred and tears and sorrow, there’s someone who is kind and gentle and loving,” you say, looking up to him now.
“I really do not deserve you,” he says.
“Stop saying that. You deserve the best in the world, and I’m sorry that you’ve gotten stuck with me.”
“You are the best.”
“I’m not,” you shake your head. “I’m not. Because even though my boyfriend is sitting her pouring his soul out to me, I’m still pissed at him. I’m still mad and enraged. I still have the image of his lips on another woman’s- a woman who he’s tied to.”
“I-” Spencer starts.
“And I’m sorry. I wish I could forgive you, but I can’t-”
“I understand,” he hangs his head low, cutting you off this time.
You rise from your seat on your bed and walk over to him, bringing him into a hug. He’s hesitant, but melts into your touch eventually, resting his head on your breasts.
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t,” you say, stroking brown curls you’ve gotten so used to being between your fingers.
“What?” His question is muffled.
“I will forgive you soon enough. Spencer, we’re all flawed, some more than others, but I believe everyone is worthy of forgiveness to some extent. You, my love, are worthy of all the forgiveness in the world. I’m just not kind nor strong enough to give it to you right now,” you tell him, the honesty evident in your voice.
“I love you,” you say softly. “And I will forget about what I saw today, but I will never forget how you opened up to me. That took a lot of strength, baby. I’m proud of you.”
You can feel him smile through the tears that soak your shirt. “You love me?”
“Well isn’t that obvious?” You laugh softly, wiping your face of tears.
“I love you too, Y/n. More than anything. I love you more than I’ve ever felt any other emotion for anything or anyone. That love, I believe, will overpower the hate I have for her.”
You smile down at him, holding his face in her palms. You plant a soft kiss to his lips. “Let me take you home, you need sleep.”
“And maybe that love will allow you to forgive yourself one day,” you add as the two of you walk hand in hand down to his car.
chapter twenty three
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I have a criminal minds fic but I haven’t written for ages if anyone wants to write this please do and tag me; spencer and cat meeting in Vegas, spencer watches her and can just tell she’s some kinda unsub (maybe even sees her following some guy out to kill him and stops her) sexual tension ensues and by the end of the night they’re getting married by Elvis
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
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sense memory | S.R.
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After eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.
who? spencer reid x hotchner!reader category: flangst content warnings: general cm violence, peter lewis, prison reid, cat adams word count: 2.64k a/n: i have no idea if i like this or not. it might be too cheesy. but i like cheese.
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Second floor, apartment 23.
You leaned against the wall and slid down until you were sat on the ground. You left your bag draped over your shoulder, holding the strap tightly.
“Haven’t seen you around in a while, sweetie,” someone said, causing your head to snap up. “Here to see him?” Spencer’s elderly neighbor asked as she passed, carrying a grocery bag in her hand from the market down the street.
Nodding, you smiled softly at her, “I was on a trip. I’m just waiting for him to come home.”
She hummed and kept walking to her door, apartment 24. “He went on a trip too, huh.”
Waving halfheartedly as she disappeared into her apartment, you leaned your head against the wall. Yeah, you went on a trip – a trip to witness protection, and Spencer went to prison.
Spencer went to prison. The words still felt foreign to you, you hadn’t heard them until two weeks ago after Peter Lewis died. Since he didn’t know where you were, he sent letters to your old address, and they were forwarded to the marshal assigned to protect you. When you left the program, you got the letters. 178 letters.
Some of them were several pages long, some of them were as simple as an I love you or an I miss you, and some of them had doodles, usually equations.
You wondered if he’d gotten your mail yet. The letters and pictures you’d collected for your marshal to send to him once you were out of WITSEC. You weren’t even sure if he’d want to see you, but your dad encouraged you to try anyway.
You had left in October, just after his birthday, and now it was May.
After being separated from your dad and Jack for so long, you went to stay with them for a week, but you knew you wanted to return to the district. You wanted to see Spencer, for closure if for nothing else. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine, JJ,” you heard him say from the first floor, and panic washed over you. The nerves of seeing him again had you wondering whether or not you could survive a jump out of the second-story window.
But the hallway windows didn’t open, you were left panicking, and then there he was.
You shouldn’t be here; you didn’t know what to say to him. The first person from your past should’ve been someone else. You could’ve called JJ or Penelope.
You saw him before he saw you, he was too busy digging in his bag for his keys. Pulling yourself up to your feet, you stood up and wiped your clammy hands on your jeans.
When he looked up and saw you, his expression went from confusion to disbelief to shock. Not once did he look happy, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he, like you, had been finding it hard to be happy lately.
Your chest ached as he walked past you and put his key in the lock. Spencer opened the door, and you held your breath as he held the door open, and you stepped inside of the apartment.
For months, you had imagined this moment in your mind, wondering what you would say when you finally got to see him again. He set his keys down on the entryway table before he turned around and faced you.
Familiar honey-colored irises studied you as if he was comparing the last time he had seen you to now.
“I shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, suddenly feeling like you were imposing on him.
Slowly, you walked backward out of the still-open door, resorting to the idea of never seeing him again. Until he spoke, “Please don’t leave me again.” His voice was soft, timid in a way you had never heard before.
You spun around and your lips parted in surprise. Tentatively, you stepped back toward him before you were right in front of him, inches apart, “I won’t.” It was a promise.
You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but the next moment your arms were slung around his neck and Spencer’s were around your torso, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted off the ground.
He’d bowed his head so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, whispering your name like a prayer that had been answered.
Propping your chin up on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, “I’m right here, Spence. I’m right here.” He was the same, and yet entirely different. Maybe more muscular, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You opened your mouth to speak again, to tell him that you would never leave him again, not as long as he didn’t want you to.
Everything had changed in the past eight months; you knew you couldn’t make him that promise. That I’ll never leave you promise. It wasn’t real.
But Spencer was real. He was real and he was clutching you the way you were clutching you, his fingers digging into your skin so hard that you might bruise. “I got your letters,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
You felt tears seep through your clothes as you took a deep breath and gently pried yourself away from him. “222 days,” he told you matter-of-factly. “I haven’t seen you in 222 days because you were in witness protection and you’re apologizing to me.”
“Of course, I’m apologizing to you. God, I left the program, and my marshal was like ‘Oh, by the way, here are hundreds of letters from your friends and your boyfriend wrote to you while you were gone. And just so you know, your boyfriend was in federal prison for the last three months.’” You took a few deep, uneven breaths. “What am I supposed to do with that, Spencer? Stop looking at me like that!”
He was smiling at you, his eyes were still watery, but he was giving you a doting smile even so, “I missed you.”
You dropped to a crouch at his words, and he followed you down. Those were the only words you had needed to hear over the last eight months. Meekly, you looked up at him, kneeling in front of you. When you left, Spencer had seemed like he was on top of the world, his mom had been accepted in that clinical trial, and the two of you had been talking more and more about your future. Now he seemed… heavier. A more burdened person. “I missed you so much,” you cried.
Reaching over to you, Spencer gently wiped the tears from your face before pulling you close to him, “You look as beautiful as you did the day I lost you.”
The two of you toppled over as a result of focusing on holding each other instead of balancing. He laid back on the floor, holding you close to him. You looked up, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You never lost me. You could never lose me. I always knew I’d come back; I always knew you’d get Scratch.”
“I didn’t, though,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion.
You hummed, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your palm. “We’re here now, doesn’t that count for anything?”
Spencer pushed up so that he was being supported by his elbows, “That counts for everything.” He studied your face, “Where did that scar come from? It’s new,” he said, his voice still quiet, like you were an animal, and he was trying not to scare you away.
“Oh,” you murmured, “bashed my head on a door. Only me, right?” You brushed him off before clambering to your feet. What were you supposed to do now? Ask him if he wanted to talk? You used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose. God, he had called you beautiful with snot running down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, staring at the floor. “I know, I know you’re going to say that I don’t have anything to apologize for, but I’m apologizing anyway. I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry that Morgan, my dad, and I all left within the same few months.”
He shook his head, “If you hadn’t gone, you’d most likely be dead now. I’d rather miss you for eight months than grieve you for a lifetime.”
You stepped away from him until you backed into the couch, “I thought about calling you. I had no idea that I wouldn’t have been able to. I just thought that-“
And just like that, he was kissing you. It was inevitable, just a question of who would make the first move. A small, shocked noise bubbled in your throat before you leaned into the kiss. It was gentle, tentative even. You gripped the lapels of his jacket as if he’d fade away, but you kissed him gently until he pulled away. “You showing up is the best thing to happen to me all year,” he murmured, sweeping your hair behind your ears. “You remain the most important person in my life.”
“Second most important,” you corrected. “How’s your mom?” Some of the information in his letters didn’t seem overly optimistic, mentioning him bringing her home to stay with him and a medication that he was getting in Mexico.
Spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile, “She’s good, I just went to see her with JJ, actually. She’s staying at a home in the district now.”
You smiled, “That’s good, keeping her close will be good for the both of you, I think.” Spencer reached around your body and pulled at your jacket, “What are you doing?”
“Taking your coat off in an attempt to coax you into staying,” he answered candidly.
Humming, you allowed him to pull the coat off of you, watching intently as he hung it on the coat rack. “Spence?” His name still felt foreign in your mouth as you moved to sit down on the couch.
He looked at you once he finished hanging his own coat, “Yeah?” Sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. A calculated decision, giving you space, but not sitting in a different chair.
“We should talk about it,” you responded, swallowing thickly. “All of it. Everything,” you continued. Millburn. Cat. Mr. Scratch.
Spencer went first, talking to you intently about what happened in that hotel room in Mexico. When he told you what Lindsay had done, you had to swallow your anger. Every once in a while, he’d trip over his words, and you encouraged him to take a break. You laid down on the couch and Spencer nestled in right next to you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and enabling you to play with his hair.
Eventually, he told you about Scratch’s takedown. How Luke had watched him dangle from the ledge of that building before he fell to his death.
You sniffled at the end of his story, “I’ll have to thank Luke next time I see him.” You said, closing your eyes and reveling in your sense memory. The smell of his shampoo – tea tree – and the smell of his apartment – stale coffee and old books.
“Where were you?” He whispered, reaching up and skimming the scar on your forehead with his fingertips.
Slowly, you opened your eyes to find his brown ones watching you. “Minnesota,” You whispered, “St. Paul.” Taking a deep breath, you continued, “Then Sacramento, for a while.”
His brows furrowed, “Why did you leave St. Paul?”
You hesitated, afraid to speak about the event. One of the worst things to have ever happened to you, right on up there with the death of your mother. “My uh…” you cleared your throat, “my location was compromised.”
“Does it have anything to do with the scar?” The one you had lied to him about hours ago.
Shutting your eyes, you nodded almost imperceptibly, “It has everything to do with the scar.”
You could see him starting to put a story together on his own, there was a scar on your face that hadn’t been there last year. A scratch. “What happened?”
The memory was there, you wanted to bury it, but it would stick with you forever. The scar on your forehead would fade, but the scar on your soul was permanent. “I did it, I put the scar there,” you admitted. “I don’t know how he found me,” you whispered, that same feeling of defeat rising in your chest.
You were lucky that there was no one else in the house for you to hurt because if Peter Lewis had turned you into a murderer, it might’ve pushed you over the metaphorical edge. As you spoke to Spencer, you told him as much. You were in a bad place while you were in WITSEC.
The two of you remained curled up together in a mess of tears and limbs and fistfuls of shirts and the overwhelming fear of being separated. Looking at him simultaneously broke your heart and put it back together again. “Sacramento was nice, but I missed the East Coast,” you whispered.
“What about your dad?” Spencer asked softly. Part of you wondered if he wanted to go to sleep, it was dark outside now, but you couldn’t be bothered to check the time.
Nodding, you sniffled, “he’s in Philadelphia with Jack, has been the whole time. That’s where I’ve been, with them.”
Spencer lifted his head to look at you, “Where are you staying tonight?”
Sighing, you shifted on the couch, “In a hotel, I’m apartment hunting tomorrow.”
“No,” he said simply, a frown forming on his face.
You laughed lightly, “What do you mean ‘no’?”
He shook his head, “I mean don’t go apartment hunting tomorrow, stay here with me. Stay here tonight, too.” He said, voice bordering on pleading.
“Spencer, we were together for almost six years and never moved in together,” you told him, arching one brow in suspicion. You had talked about it, it just never seemed to happen.
He sat up fully, “I’m tired of making excuses about breaking leases and travel times, Y/N. There’s not enough time in life to keep avoiding it,” he gestured wildly with his hands as his voice slowly rose.
You tried to wrap your head around the idea, “I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through before making a decision this big.” Folding your hands in your lap, you noticed the first real change in him. This was impulsive.
“I spent three months in prison thinking about you!” He said loudly, “Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going.” That was quieter like he realized how loud he was actually being. “I knew there was my mom, I knew there was the team, but seeing you again… that kept me going.” He studied your face and based on the emotions you were feeling you could only imagine what your expression was, “Is it me? Is it everything I told you that I did? The poison? Cat? Do you not love me anymore?”
Your breath hitched, “I love you. Of course, I still love you.” Finally, you saw it. He was different, but at the same time, he was still the boy who hid his feelings from you – afraid of upsetting your father. The two of you had a long way to go before you could be together in way you used to be, and maybe things would never be the same.
His shoulders slouched forward in relief, “then move in with me.”
Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder, “okay.” You took his hand in yours, expertly intertwining your fingers as if no time had passed. “Okay,” you whispered. It certainly didn’t hurt to try.
“And for the record,” he murmured, “I love you too.”
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ipseitydelrey · 4 months
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Sei!! I'm obsessed with your writing!
Since your requests are open... I was thinking maybe.... NSFW alphabet with Reid? 👀
aaaa thank you so much !!
nsfw alphabet ☆ spencer reid
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ship spencer reid x afab!reader
warnings smut, use of protection (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos!!), p in v penetration (i feel like this goes w/o saying), oral (m and f receiving), hair pulling, mutual masturbation, wet dreams, teasing, sex toys, he’s self-conscious :(, slight mention of what cat adams did (only implied), also he’s bi <3
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A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)
it’s quite possible that spencer loves aftercare more than actual sex. he’s so enthusiastic about taking care of you; he’ll get food and water, run a bath, cuddle, etc.
B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)
although he’s pretty self-critical about his looks, he does like his hair. his hairstyle changes frequently so he always appreciates it when you compliment him or you run your fingers through his hair.
spencer probably feels awful that this is his favourite part of your body, but he loves your boobs. no matter the size or shape, he lives resting his head on your chest like it’s a pillow.
C = cum (anything to do with cum)
either in you or in a condom. he doesn’t really like it when it gets everywhere. although, if he does end up cumming anywhere else (like on your stomach or face, etc.), he will definitely try to clean it up quickly.
D = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
it’s not too much of a secret but it still sort of counts: spencer has wet dreams about you. since you also sleep in the same bed, during those dreams, he would subconsciously rut against your leg and moan in his sleep. so far (at least to your knowledge), this has only happened once because you woke up to him doing it. you both are aware of this fact, but spencer isn’t aware that you know. you haven’t told him because you don’t wanna embarrass the poor guy.
E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
with women, very little; not even sex or second base, at most he has made out and gotten his shirt off but that’s it (we’re not including cat adams in this discussion of course). with men though? he’s not a virgin, so he does have some experience.
although if we’re counting what he knows through books and articles, then in theory he would be amazing in bed.
F = favourite position (this goes without saying)
if he’s on top, he loves missionary. the position gives him the opportunity to kiss you while he thrusts into you; he loves the romance and intimacy of it too.
if he’s bottoming, then he likes it when you ride him, especially if you’re facing towards him. he can still kiss you — giving him his much needed intimacy — and he loves to watch the way your chest heaves as you bounce on him. fondling your boobs is an added bonus! another position he loves is when you fuck him with your tits. that one doesn’t need an explanation.
G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)
he thinks he’s serious (he’s trying soooo hard, he wants it to be perfect) but he’s unintentionally goofy. usually during sex, he shares little tidbits about the benefits of an orgasm, or how eating pineapple can make cum taste like the fruit…and it’s hilarious. it doesn’t really bring you out of the moment, just makes you laugh.
H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
spencer has a mouth-watering happy trail. much like up north, down south it’s unruly, but can still be classified as well-groomed.
I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
not much can be said, but expect tons of “i love you”s as he cums. he’s a romantic at heart, of course he wants some romance during sex.
J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he doesn’t masturbate a lot, maybe once or twice per two weeks at most; that’s if he’s not with you. in your presence is a whole other story. it was a bit awkward jerking off in front of you at first, but over time he’s come to love it (ngl kinda wanna write a drabble for this one).
K = kink (one or more of their kinks)
why do you think he keeps his hair long? it’s just begging to be pulled! seriously, during a makeout session, you got a little curious and your hand trailed to the back of his head and you gave his hair a lil tug. the result? an involuntary moan. and as mentioned before, mutual masturbation is on the table.
L = location (favourite places to have sex)
he believes any sort of sexual intimacy should be confined to the bedroom. he values his privacy and he doesn’t want to risk getting caught in the middle of having sex by anybody.
M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
you being smart, especially when you teach him something new (which doesn’t happen often but when it does, he’s so turned on). that’s pretty much it. genuinely loves it when you correct someone else, or if you work with him in the BAU, when you realize something about a particularly hard case that causes a breakthrough.
N = nope (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
doesn’t want to hurt you in anyway shape or form. it’s likely that later in your relationship, when you trust each other more, you both might experiment with biting or spanking, but that’s as far as he’s willing to go. sensory deprivation (especially with blindfolds) are also a no.
O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he’s so different, yet so similar when both giving and receiving oral; he doesn’t have a preference.
if he’s giving, then he’s giving. at first, he wasn’t too good at it (you had to keep giving him pointers and tell him what you like and don’t like, but he has the basics down), but over time, he does get the hang of it. in short, his tongue has other uses than just rambling about statistics.
if he’s receiving, it is the hottest thing you have seen and heard. he gets so flushed in the cheeks and so sweaty, his hair starts to stick to his forehead as he’s panting. and the noises? the noises he produces makes you want to rut against the bed, the couch, his leg, wherever you can.
P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
if he’s bottoming, he does like it when you go fast, especially if he’s pent up (and maybe has been edged for a while too). but if he’s on top, then he loves to go slow. although most of the time, he’ll go whatever pace you want him to go.
Q = quickies (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
he doesn’t like quickies, especially early in your shared sexual life. he does prefer to take his time and not have any interruptions and the like, but quickies are bound to happen with how many cases there are.
R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
this is a man of science we are talking about; of course he’s game to experiment in the bedroom. with his limited experience (especially with women), he doesn’t know exactly what he likes and doesn’t like. but as for risks, almost never. the closest he’ll probably get to fucking in public is in a motel/hotel. he doesn’t want to get caught in such a compromising position.
S = sexts (yes? no? pictures?)
he doesn’t really understand why people would sext when they could just A. say it to their partner directly or B. just call and listen to their voice. he understands why people send nudes even less; he doesn’t want to take pictures of himself in that way, or even risk sending them. the technophobia is real with this man.
T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
doesn’t own any, but he isn’t vehemently opposed to using them (either on you or him) if you own some.
U = unfair (how much they like to tease)
spencer doesn’t really like to tease so much as he likes to be teased. it gets him all riled up, especially if you tease him in public. as long as the teasing is masked well, he’s all for it.
V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)
the way this man moans is symphonic, it’s mind boggling. he is loud, his noises can reverberate through the room. he doesn’t just moan, he’s got a whole arsenal of sounds; whimpers, whines, cries, etc.
W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
the first time he got hard in front of you was a complete accident and he was so embarrassed, rapidly spitting out apologies and slight self-deprecating comments. you tried to calm him down - which sort of worked, thankfully - and asked if he wanted help with it. the event didn’t escalate into full-on sex, but hands were enough for him and you both.
X = x-ray (dick size)
like him, his cock isn’t particularly girthy, but it’s long, definitely above average. in fact, it’s long enough that you could still feel the aftershocks of it even when it’s been a day.
Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)
the man is so touch-starved that at this point, any form of intimacy would be near too much for him. so, his sex drive would probably be high, but he would still only be able to go maybe one or two rounds. later in your relationship, he might be able to go longer than that.
Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
spencer is the type of guy to feel sleepy after sex, even if he cane only once. the activity takes a lot out of him, but he would still prioritize you first before himself. after he does his whole aftercare routine, he’s out like a light. this could be different if he has a migraine, in which case he’ll probably be up for a couple more hours (yay insomnia).
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aperrywilliams · 1 year
Text
Pandora’s Box (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer gets called for work on his day off while having breakfast with his wife. He doesn’t know this day will end worse than he thought.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Mention to prison. Mention of kidnapping. Cat Adams. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: Written for this request. Two parts: this is the angsty one (sorry). How should Spencer make it up to Reader?
Part II
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Reader's POV
I always knew Spencer's job had its quirks. Granted, being an FBI agent is a dangerous job, and with my husband, this statement tends to be yet worse. Spencer has been kidnapped, drugged, shot in the knee, shot in the neck, framed for murder, incarcerated, and so on.
But after everything we've been through, one would expect things to settle down over time. Is it too much to ask?
I knew what was coming when the damn cell phone chimed that morning. It was Spencer's day off, and we had decided to go for breakfast at our favorite coffee shop since I had the day off too. It was rare we could match in our free time, and since we had both been very busy with our jobs, we wanted to enjoy that day.
Spencer gave me an apologetic look before answering the call.
"Reid," he spoke dryly. He wasn't happy about the interruption either.
While Pelenope surely told Spencer he should go to Quantico as soon as possible, I just stared at him—a glint of anticipated disappointment in my eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Spencer said, confirming my suspicions.
"Don't be. I know how it works." My answer was not reproachful, nor did I want to make him feel bad; instead, it was to clarify that I comprehended and accepted how our life's dynamic goes. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to my dad's today and staying there. He's been asking me when I would have a sleepover with him," I commented. I knew Spencer would feel less guilty if I didn't spend too much time alone.
"Okay. That's good. And I promise I'll make it up to you," Spencer stated, getting up from his chair before planting an affectionate kiss on my forehead.
Don't make promises you can't keep, I thought.
Here is the thing. Spencer has good intentions, but time isn't on our side lately, so I only hoped we could have a chance to get at least a day to spend together with no interruptions upon his return.
After leaving the coffee shop, I stopped by the apartment to grab some clothes and headed to my dad's.
My dad greeted me in a tight embrace at the front door.
"I thought you would spend your day off with Spencer?" He asked once we parted from our hug.
I knew he was picturing a bad scenario. I'm not keen on sharing my marriage issues with my father, but he could tell there was something.
"Uh. Well. Spencer got called from work," I explained. My dad hummed, not saying anything. I regretted how I worded it because I hate portraying Spencer as the bad guy.
"What?" I asked.
"Everything is okay? I mean, between you and Spencer?" My dad questioned, concerned.
"Yeah. We are fine. Don't worry about us. Come on inside; you promised me movies and hot cocoa," I smiled at him, lacing my arm with his and heading inside the house.
-
Spencer's POV
Cat Adams. That name only means disaster. I should have known that. This time I hoped she only had ruined my day off with my wife- something a little more bearable than being framed for murder and incarcerated.
Arriving at Quantico, Prentiss and Rossi explained to me what had happened. Cat's associate kidnaped a family and demanded the release of Cat Adams.
Really she thought that could be possible?
Emily told me they were bringing her in a few hours and that I should talk to her.
I didn’t know if I was ready to do that, but a family was in danger. I had to.
She looked so pleased to see me that I felt nauseous, and my mind flew to Milburn. She knew what she was doing, but I needed to control myself and have the upper hand somehow.
My entire demeanor changed when she voiced her demand: a date with me.
The mention of a 'date' with Cat Adams sounded twisted and insufferable. But not going could have been a mistake. Cat knew I wouldn't refuse, not after she said my wife's safety was in danger too.
Frantically I left the room to dial (Y/N)’s number, and it went straight to voicemail. She never turns off her phone. I called her dad, and he said she left the house for a job emergency without explaining too much.
I looked at Emily, who had already told Garcia to track my wife's location. Minutes later, Penelope told us she wasn't at her workplace and was nowhere to find. Her phone's signal went dead after she left her dad's house.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn’t know how, but Cat had her.
Rushing inside the room where Cat was, I slammed the table, demanding my wife's location. Cat, of course, laughed in my face.
"I guess now no one could interrupt our date," she dared with a smug grin.
Against all my judgment, I agreed to a plan I wasn't even sure about.
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Reader's POV
After Milburn, we talked with Spencer about the real danger we can be exposed to as a couple realizing the kind of job he had. Not that we didn't discuss it before, but the threat became real after that. We had a plan: if something happened, he would contact me directly - or through someone from the team - and if the communication could be compromised, I should get rid of my phone and not tell anybody my location.
When my phone rang that afternoon, we were watching a movie with my dad on the couch. I stood and answered in the hall. A sternly Spencer spoke: "This is an emergency. Met me at my old apartment. There is a key under the mat. Get rid of the phone and not tell anyone. Don't open the door to anyone, and wait for me there."
When I was about to ask what had happened, the call ended. I doubted for a moment. Spencer sounded so out of himself, but after what he had been through, I knew his job could stress him like that. So I just did what I was told.
I lied to my dad, telling him I had a job emergency, and left.
In my mind, I ran through all the possibilities, and none helped me stay calm. Everything could go wrong, like when Spencer went to Mexico without telling me.
Arriving at the apartment, I noticed the key was under the mat, as Spencer told me.
We always talked about what to do with his old place. Since we married, we got a new home, and Spencer rented his apartment. It happened that the last couple who rented it left a month ago, and we were still looking for a new tenant.
The place was almost empty. But still, some of Spencer's old books remained on the shelves. I took one to pass the time until Spencer could arrive. I didn't have my phone, so the only thing I could do was wait.
-
Spencer's POV
The last thing I thought I would do was ice skating with the woman who framed me for murder and kidnapped my mom and now my wife. Cat enjoyed every minute of my torture, and I just wanted to end it. My mind ran fast to catch any lead that could help me, but Cat knew me better. I don’t like to say it, but she, indeed, knew me better.
"So, I wasn't shocked when I discovered you married to that girl. I was shocked, though, knowing how neglected you have had her," she said casually, doing spins on the ice.
"You don't know what you are saying," I scoffed, trying to sound calm, but I hated how she dared to talk about (Y/N) and me.
"Don't I? So you will tell me you haven't canceled dates or left her for cases very often? That isn't good, Spencie, nothing good," Cat mocked.
I didn't want to give in that much, but how the hell this woman always managed to get under my skin? It's not that I wasn't aware of my messy schedule, but we always agreed with (Y/N) that it was my job, and she understood. Lately, though, things have been getting worse in that matter, and on that, Cat had a point.
When we married, I promised (Y/N) to slow down my job rhythm. After Milburn, I thought I had had enough, and it was time to focus on my life. It worked initially, but as the honeymoon phase ended, I did not slow down and even started overworking myself.
Everything I have been doing in the past months seemed like a stupid decision that had (Y/N) in danger because of my job now. If something terrible happened to her, I would never forgive myself.
“I know you’re waiting for me to slip a clue. But you will not get anything if you don’t show me your old apartment,” Cat demanded.
Now I was utterly confused. Why Cat wanted that?
The thing with Cat is always this way. She has a secret agenda you can’t decipher until it’s too late. I was afraid of that, but not giving up on her demands would put people in danger. I hadn’t an option.
“Why did you marry, anyway? You know you can be with anyone,” Cat spoke as we were being driven in the van. I snapped my head up. Cat shrugged. “What? I am right. Your job is everything to you, Spencie. Don’t lie to yourself; you can’t have a normal life. Not when we know we are so alike.”
“You don’t know anything. I love my wife,” I stated. Cat scoffed.
“I know enough. Tell me, does your wife know where you are now? Does she knows you are with me?” She asked, looking at me intensely. I averted my gaze. Cat was right, but her reasoning was wrong. I don’t like to tell (Y/N) much about my job because it’s not fair to put that burden on her. Not after we have been through. It’s not a matter of trust.
We got to the building and got out of the van. Cat took my arm as armed FBI agents escorted us—a show worth seeing, and I just wanted to forget.
Arriving at the apartment door, I took out my keys to open the lock, but before doing so, Cat stopped me.
“Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“That you love your wife?”
“Of course I do!” I replied, exasperated.
“Show me,” she demanded. But I didn’t understand what she was asking. My confusion was evident. “Show me how you love her. Kiss me the way you would kiss her,” Cat requested. My eyes widened.
“What? No! I will not do that.”
“You will. If you want to see your wife and that family alive again, you will,” she retorted.
I was about to lose my patience. In the last three hours, Cat had just made me go in circles. But I knew what she could do, and I was terrified that her threats would come true.
I took a deep breath before leaning to kiss her. I knew it was wrong, but I just wanted to end this night and find my wife and the missing family. Before my lips reached hers, Cat stopped me.
“I told you, Spencie. Do it like I’m her. Make it good. I will know if you are pretending,” she warned.
Fuck. What a twisted mind.
I gathered my composure, and I tried to imagine that it was (Y/N) in front of me and not Cat. I cupped her cheeks, the way I like to do with (Y/N), and leaned again. This time with no hesitation. It had to look real.
-
Reader's POV
I heard a commotion outside; I couldn't determine who was talking in the hallway. I froze in the spot, my eyes fixed on the entrance door. Then I noticed the handle turning and the door opening wide.
What I saw made my brain stop working.
Spencer was on the threshold kissing a woman.
Did I say kissing? Scratch that. He was devouring her mouth. And they were enjoying it, I could tell. She was the one who ended the kiss, and I swore I saw Spencer follow her lips for more. The woman turned to see me. Then Spencer noticed I was inside, witnessing how he- my husband - kissed a woman that wasn't me. His eyes widened, leaving his grasp on the woman's cheeks to walk to me.
“(Y/N)? What- what are you doing here? I thought you- that she has-" he stuttered.
I can't tell if it was for nerves, shock, or the fact he had been caught. It didn't matter, though. I was not in a condition to say anything. I just stood there, looking like a kicked puppy. I hated it.
“Fuck!” He cursed as if he had realized what was going on. The problem was I didn’t know anything, and my mind ran with the worst scenery possible.
"Ups," the girl teased. That's when I truly focused on her. I knew this woman. I'm sure I did. Then it hit me. Cat Adams? Seriously?
"What is this?" I barely articulated, shifting my gaze between Spencer and Cat.
"I - I thought she had kidnapped you! She did it with a family. I was so worried," Spencer explained, reaching to grab my hands, which I snatched away. I didn't feel like being touched by him, not after what I saw.
"I can tell you were worried," I spat. Cat started laughing.
"She has quite a sense of humor. I like her," Cat commented, looking between Spencer and me.
Oh, she was enjoying this. And my rational self told me it was better to shut up until I could understand what all about was, but my emotional side got to win this time.
"And you wanted me here for this? Your urgent case was about her? Jeez, Spencer, I thought you were done with this psycho," I pointed, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Oh, darling. You should know by now that Spencer is obsessed with me. How do you explain what you saw? He was kissing the same woman who got him in jail for three months. Maybe it's a kind of Stockholm, who knows," Cat taunted, shrugging like she was clueless. My eyes shot daggers at her. It was infuriating how her words echoed in my brain.
"(Y/N), don't listen to her. She is playing games right now. She wants you mad," Spencer tried to explain. And maybe he was right. But the smug look on her only fueled my anger. I didn't want to snap, though.
"Yeah, you can tell yourself that if it makes you happy," I deadpanned. Cat chuckled.
“Uh-oh. That sounds like jealousy to me.”
"Stop it! Cat, where is the family?" Spencer grabbed her arm suddenly. Her smug smile never faded.
"Easy, Spencie. What are you going to do? Throw me against a wall again?"
What? When did that happen?
Spencer's face went pale as his eyes met mine.
"Ouch. Someone didn't know that," Cat teased. I didn't know what face I had, but Spencer left the grip of Cat's arm and turned to me. "You should tell her, Spencie. She won't believe me if I do."
"You did what?" I asked in disbelief.
When Spencer was about to say something, Luke rushed inside.
"We got them!"
Them? What the fuck was happening?
"Now that's when we were having fun! Not fair!"
Cat pouted with dissatisfaction.
Spencer's eyes never left mine, pleading for me not to jump and hit him - or her.
"Take her out," he sternly told Luke, who rushed to do so.
"It was nice to meet you, (Y/N). Hope Spencer can tell you more of our story,” she taunted before crossing the threshold. Luke took the precaution of closing the door behind them, leaving with Cat and the other FBI field agents.
And just like that, we were alone with Spencer. Cat wasn't in the apartment anymore, but her words and presence remained heavy in the air.
Spencer’s hands were shaking, and they tried to reach mine again. I didn’t let him, though, as I stepped back.
It was all so confusing. And even if there were a logical explanation for this, the nerves and the anger were too much to try to understand.
“(Y/N), baby. I can explain. It was a trap. Cat orchestrated the whole thing, and I didn’t notice her real intentions until now. You have to believe me,” Spencer sputtered, faster than I had seen him speak in a long time. I shook my head.
“You called me. You told me we were in danger and asked me to come here, Spencer,” I tried to reason with him. He did this; why?
Spencer’s eyes widened.
“No, no, no. No! I did not. I don’t know how it happened, but I didn’t call you. It wasn’t me. I thought you were kidnapped! Cat told me if I didn’t do what she wanted, she would hurt you!”
I scoffed.
“How convenient that sounds, uh?”
Spencer sighed. He didn’t know what to say, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to help him.
“(Y/N), please. You can ask the team. Penelope tried to track your location. I called your dad! It’s all a misunderstanding.”
I felt bad for Spencer. He looked exhausted, and he was likely telling the truth. But that wasn't enough to erase the image of my husband kissing Cat Adams. That qualifies as cheating, right?
I wanted to slap him across the face. Fucking Spencer Reid!
“A misunderstanding? Not a biggie, right?”
I hated feeling like this, but I couldn't help it. The more Spencer tried to explain, the more my blood boiled. Was I being unfair to him? Maybe. But after months of his work interfering in our lives, I was already fed up. This was the last straw.
"I didn't mean it like it wasn't important. Can we please talk about this more calmly at home?"
No, we can not, I wanted to say.
"Before your phone rings again and you must leave on another case?"
Shit, that just came out of my mouth.
“(Y/N)…” Spencer started to speak, but I cut him off. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have right now.
“You know what? I think it’s better we take a break for this night. I’m going to my dad’s. He must have been worried after I left,” I said, trying to contain my shaky voice. I grabbed my purse and walked to the door.
Spencer stared after me, pleading with his eyes for me not to leave. I decided to ignore it. I needed to think and cool my head. I believe this is the wake-up call I feared might happen. Maybe Cat Adams had opened another Pandora's box tonight.
Part II
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Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @miaxx03 @leahblackk
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forhappysake · 5 months
Text
What Lurks Within, Pt. 11
Author's Note: This is it, final chapter!
Content: Four team members debrief in the hospital after the Denver case is officially closed. Subsequently, Spencer and Y/N do some reflecting on their relationship and all they've been through together.
Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, some angst if you squint, mentions of death and violence, references to the Season 12 finale/first episode of Season 13, hospital setting
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Beep… Beep… Beep…
Not again. I groaned as I turned over in the hospital bed. I had been removed from my comfortable clothing, placed in a cheap hospital gown once more. Another IV drip was attached to my hand, and those tiny EKG stickies were back to their position all over my chest. 
“Good morning,” sang a familiar voice. Luke stood at my bedside, holding a glass of water. I groaned in response. 
“Why am I here again?” I asked. 
“Because after we got Spencer in the car, you passed out,” he said. “The doctors said you’d only been running on shock and adrenaline. Once that wore off, your body gave out.” 
“Oh no,” I whispered, “did Spencer see me pass out? That’s so embarrassing.” I covered my face with my hands. 
Luke laughed, “He sure did. He did his best to help load you into the back of the SUV with him. We brought you both here at the same time. He’s just down the hall.”
I leaned forward in my bed, looking around the room. Instead of a walker, someone had left me a wheelchair this time. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. 
“It’s either wheelchair or nowhere,” Luke rhymed. I sighed, motioning for him to bring the wheelchair over by the bed. He did so without a word, helping to lower me into the seat. “Do you think they’ll pay me extra since I’ve spent so much time as your nurse during this case?” I rolled my eyes, choosing not to respond as he pushed me down the hallway towards another hospital room. 
He stopped me in front of the door, leaning over to knock. JJ’s voice rang out from inside, “Come in!” Luke swung the door open and pushed me into the room as I took in the sight. 
JJ sat perched at the edge of the bed as Spencer, also in a hospital gown, thumbed through a book in his hands. “You’re awake!” JJ said excitedly. She rushed over and bent down to my level, offering me a gentle hug. 
“I so am,” I said, “ and I see someone else is too.” Spencer beamed at me, closing his book and tossing it carelessly on to the bed. Luke wheeled me over to his side. 
“Y/N, I was so worried,” he reached his hands out to me as he intertwined our fingers. 
“Me too,” I whispered. I felt tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. A stray tear felt down my cheek and Spencer gently wiped it away with his thumb. I laughed, trying to make light of the situation. “So, what’s your diagnosis?”
“Hmm,” Spencer thought for a moment, “nothing major.” He shrugged as best he could, a small smirk forming on his bruised cheek. 
JJ let out a laugh from the corner of the room, “He’s got three broken ribs, a bruised lung, and a concussion.” 
I dropped my jaw at him. “That doesn’t sound like ‘nothing major,’ Spencer.”
“As if you’re much better off,” he scoffed. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, turning to face Luke. 
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked. 
Luke sighed, “Let me think. You’ve got a busted head, concussion, and you did have a small brain bleed, but the doctors think that’s over now.” 
“Oh,” I said, widening my eyes and glancing at Spencer. “Maybe we are in the same boat.” He smiled and nodded a bit, wincing as he leaned back in the bed, our hands still intertwined. 
“Wait,” I piped up again, “what happened to the Graydons?”
“Mira was dead by the time the ambulance arrived,” Luke said, the energy in the room becoming more somber. 
I nodded, “What about the other two?” 
JJ spoke this time, “Phillip Graydon’s been booked in connection to multiple murders. The former Chief Graydon has been officially removed from the force and will stand trial for aiding and abetting, as well as obstructing a criminal investigation. Ryan Whittendon has been promoted to Chief of Police.” I nodded, satisfied with her answer as silence fell over the room again. Spencer and I processed the information without a word. 
Spencer glanced up at our teammates standing in the corner of the room,“Luke, JJ, do you think you could leave us alone for a minute? I’d like to talk to Y/N in private.” 
Luke and JJ looked at each other, raising their eyebrows. Luke sighed dramatically, “Alright, but no funny business. Neither one of you are fit to be banging-” JJ smacked Luke on the shoulder and he gasped in playful shock, “What the hell was that for?” 
“Get out of this room, now,” JJ said, turning on her “mom” voice and scolding him. Luke smirked, opening the door and leading JJ out of the room. She turned and mouthed the word ‘sorry’ before shutting it behind her. I couldn’t help but giggle, and I saw Spencer try to suppress his laugh for the sake of his broken ribs. 
I shook my head, turning my attention back to the man on the bed next to me. “Anyway, what do you want to talk about, Spence?” 
He looked at me as he bit his lip nervously, trying to come up with the right phrase. “I’m not sure the proper way to start this conversation,” he said. An anxious feeling crept into my chest. 
“Uh oh,” I laughed nervously, “you’re only speechless when it's serious.” 
He nodded, “It is kind of serious, actually.” I winced a bit at the thought and he squeezed my hand to offer some comfort. 
I sighed, “Well, you know I’m impatient. What’s on your brain?”
He didn’t waste any time. “Do you remember when we were in the SUV the other day, on the way to Andrews’ house, and we talked about how we don’t like to talk about what happened to us?” His eyes scanned my own, looking for some sign of understanding. 
“I remember. I had a brain bleed, not amnesia,” I half-joked. 
“Right,” he said. Spencer paused for a moment, scanning my face again. “Well, I… I think we should talk about it.” 
I sighed, leaning back in the wheelchair. I let my hand slip out of his as I did so, using my now-freed hand to play with the hem of the hospital gown I was in. “I get what you mean, but what is there to talk about, Spencer?” 
“Listen,” he started as he readjusted himself in the hospital bed so he could better face me. “Something Emily said the other day got me thinking. We’ve never really stopped to talk about what happened from your perspective.” 
I shook my head, “Spencer, what happened wasn’t about me. You’re the one who suffered all those months. I was just a part of her game.” 
He returned the shake of his head. “It was just as much about you as it was about me. She played with both of us, Y/N.” 
I stared off into the corner of the room. Conversations from that night replayed in my head: 
“I wonder what your little girlfriend will have to say about all this. What, with the baby and everything,” Cat said, sitting across from Spencer. I stared at her from my spot behind the one-way glass, JJ by my side. I stood with my arms crossed. 
“I hope you have more luck with her than the last one,” Cat used her hand to make the shape of a gun. Holding it to her temple, she pretended to shoot herself, falling back dramatically in the chair. 
“Don’t talk about her,” Spencer said quietly. 
Cat had laughed, cocking her head back and twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. “Which one? The dead one? Or the one that’s definitely staring at me from behind the glass.” She leaned over so that I could see her more clearly, offering me a small wave. 
“Don’t talk about either one of them,” Spencer said, rising from his chair to pace around the room for a moment. 
“I’d like to see her,” Cat said. “The live one, that is.” My breath hitched in my throat as Spencer turned and walked out of the interrogation room into the observation room. He didn’t look at me, pacing nervously around the room. 
“What do I do?” he asked JJ. “I’m not letting her drag Y/N into this.” 
I cleared my throat, “I am right here, you know.” He stopped pacing, turning to look at me as JJ did so too. “I can handle it. Tell me how to play her game.”
Spencer’s eyes looked me up and down. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair before rubbing his tired eyes. “I don’t want you to play into her fantasy. Her goal when you are in the room is going to be to give you every reason to leave me,” he said. 
JJ nodded, “You act as the reality in the room. She has this made-up idea of her and Spencer being some kind of romantic trope. You’re the thing that messes that up in her head. Hopefully your physical presence will do the same.”
“Okay,” I said. I walked over to the door. Spencer crossed the room in three large steps, swinging the door open and entering first. I followed close behind him, eyes adjusting to the fluorescent light over the table. 
“Well, well, well,” Cat said. She reached out her hand and offered me a fake smile, “Cat Adams, pleasure to meet you.” I ignored her hand, instead choosing to sit down next to Spencer. 
“I heard you wanted to speak with me,” I said. I examined my nails, then tapped them lightly on the table, leaning on my other hand. 
She continued twirling a hair around her finger, “Well, she is cute,” she said to Spencer, raising an eyebrow. 
I snapped my fingers in front of her face once, “Excuse me, I was told someone wanted to talk to me, not him. If I’m not wanted, I’m happy to excuse myself,” I started to rise from the table, but she quickly spoke up again, raising a hand. 
“Hold it. I’m not done yet.” 
I plopped myself back down in the chair. “What do you want to know?” I asked. 
“Why would a pretty thing like you choose to be with Spencer Reid?” Spencer almost winced at the use of his full name. 
I had to disturb the fantasy. “Well, if you must know,” I cleared my throat, “it really comes down to fantastic sex.” Spencer shifted awkwardly in his seat. 
Cat didn’t like that answer, nearly snarling. She quickly composed herself. “Funny that I’m the one who's having his baby,” she retorted.
“I always thought I’d be a young, hot stepmother,” I joked. She didn’t like that response either, learning back against the cool metal of her seat. 
She scoffed. Her plan wasn’t working. “You have no idea what he’s done.” I narrowed my eyes at her, rising from my seat and leaning across the table. 
“Enlighten me,” I said quietly. She clammed up. She was one statement away from giving up the final answer to her entire game. “Yeah,” I said, “that’s what I thought.” With that statement, I turned on my heel and left the interrogation room. 
I snapped back to reality as Spencer stared at me, letting me take my time to think through it all. “What are you thinking?” he asked. 
“I’m just thinking about what happened,” I said quietly. I looked at him for a moment before I returned my gaze to the corner of the room. “We spent that whole night in the interrogation room. Your mom came home, thank God. You guys left to go home. The rest of us piled into that SUV. It was a dumb move, all of us being out there at once,” I shook my head. “I don’t remember much. We hit the spikes, something hit us, my leg hurt. I passed out.” 
Spencer nodded. “Keep going,” he encouraged gently.
“I woke up on the way to the hospital, and they wouldn’t let me call anyone. They kept telling me I had to lay still and that they’d call my emergency contact. I didn’t want them to call you, because I knew you’d panic,” I sighed, the throbbing pain in the back of my head was returning with all this memory recall.  
He sat in silence, waiting for me to go on, and I did. “I think I passed out again. I know they took me into surgery at some point. When I woke up, I was in a hospital room,” I shuddered at the thought. “I think I was…” I paused, trying to decide how truthful to be in that moment. 
“You think you were what?” Spencer asked. 
“When I woke up alone, I was angry. I was angry at you because I felt like you’d abandoned me there, and I was angry at myself for feeling that way towards you after everything you’d been through.”
Spencer nodded. “You had every right to feel that way, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” 
I rolled my eyes, “Spencer, you were saving Emily’s life. Don’t be sorry.” 
“No, Y/N,” he started. Spencer paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I was there before you woke up. I could have stayed, and I didn’t. I ran away.” I raised an eyebrow at this new bit of information. 
“Why, Spence?” I asked. 
He sighed, searching for the right words again. “When you got out of surgery, they took me back to your room. You looked so exhausted. I thought of all the things you’d been through for my sake. I just… I didn’t know what I’d say if you woke up while I was there. I decided it would be best for both of us if I went back to the office, but really it was my own selfish fear.”
“So we’re both terrible people?” I asked, jokingly. He sighed, wincing again when his diaphragm expanded. “I’m kidding,” I said, “we were both scared, Spencer.” 
The room was quiet after that. I leaned my battered head forward on top of his hand, using it as a makeshift pillow. I heard Spencer gasp when he noticed the bandages on the back of my head.  
“I thought you died last night,” Spencer whispered. I could hear the break in his voice and envision the tears in his eyes without so much as lifting my head.  
“For a couple minutes, so did I,” I answered quietly. I lifted my head to look at him. “But, I didn’t.” 
Spencer smiled, cupping my face with one of his hands. “You didn’t.”
“And neither did you,” I said, offering him a playful poke on the thigh. He suppressed another laugh, leaning back further into the hospital bed. “Well, I should probably let you get some rest,” I said. I leaned back from the bed, easing myself further down into my wheelchair. 
“Where are you going to go?” Spencer asked, with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t think you’re exactly fit to travel.”
“I’m going to make Luke find me a vending machine, because I am starving. Do you want anything?” Deja vu from before this all started, from our late-night back in the bullpen, hit me like a truck:
“Considering neither of us are making any groundbreaking discoveries, I’m gonna run to the vending machine. Do you want anything?” I swiveled my chair back around in his direction, awaiting his reply.
He looked up for a moment, seeming to give it some thought before shaking his head. “No thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate the offer, though.” He gave me a small nod. 
“No problem, brainiac. I’ll be back in a few.”
Spencer seemed to recall the memory too. “You know what, this time, I think I’ll take you up on that.” 
I smiled, turning towards the door. “Luke!” I shouted. In a few moments, the door burst open. 
“What's wrong?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow with his hand on his pistol. Clearly he thought my call for him was of a much more serious nature.
“We really want something to eat,” I said with a smile, which Spencer mirrored with full enthusiasm.
---------------------------------------------------------------- THE ENDDDDD
This has been so fun to write, I can't wait to do more in the future. Don't be afraid to lmk what you think <3
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