Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Breathe 🔥 (E)

Summary: Spencer has to confront Cat, but this time his girlfriend is with him.

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Content Warning: Sub!Spencer, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, spanking, canon consistent trauma mentions, D/s dynamics, breathplay, choking

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There were so many places I would have rather been than the parking lot of the Mount Pleasant Women's Correctional Facility, but that was where I found myself on a rainy Thursday morning. If I had been there for the execution of Cat Adams, it would have been a better day, but I wasn't, so it was a shit day.

To my right was my boyfriend, who I suspected wanted to be there even less than I did. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, like the destination would change if he glared at it hard enough.

We had to go inside. It would be hard for him, to reopen the wounds she'd caused for the third time now, but it was necessary. She wasn't our only lead, or even the best one. It was just one of those situations where the problem would be solved so easily if we could just break one person. I'd tried to convince Spencer to refuse, but he couldn't. Not when the plan seemed so easy in theory.

But it wasn't easy. Not when it was Spencer alone in a room with Cat.

"Look at me," I whispered before reaching out to him, hoping that it would cause less of a shock.

He didn't even hear me, though. He was too caught up in his own head. He jumped at my fingers on his face, but then quickly melted into their touch.

Hazel eyes bore into mine with a silent plea that this time would be different. That this time, he wouldn't have to hurt. I couldn't promise him that, so I gave him the only thing I could.

"Breathe," I instructed, "You will not let that stupid bitch get to you."

He smiled at the loving pet name I had given her, leaning harder into my palm before laying a small kiss on my wrist.

"I know I shouldn't, but—"

"She has no control over you," I swiftly cut him off, covering his mouth before a single worry could escape it. Even then, he looked at me like the stars were in my eyes; full of wonder and amazement. I removed my hand just enough to sneak a kiss to his lips. Without removing them entirely, I gave a more explicit reminder, "You are mine. And I don't kiss nice."

"You always kiss me nice," he replied with a hint of sadness. Like there was something wrong with the fact I held him like he was made of glass.

"That's because you're my baby," I cooed, running my fingers through the messy, wispy curls that had formed thanks to the sudden downpour and his knack for not carrying an umbrella.

I saw him, his eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar, brows furrowed as he tried to avoid the unavoidable inside his head. I wanted to pull him back to me, to show him what I saw.

Because I saw Spencer Reid, the man I loved more than anything. The man who could survive anything.

"You're stronger than her," I thought out loud, which was thankfully enough to earn another small smile from the man. "And I have faith in you."

For those few seconds, at least, he believed me. I just hoped that it would last. Because if Cat saw one splinter of distrust, she would bat at his loose ends until he lay tangled on the floor. It was a mess I'd seen before. Days, weeks, months spent putting him back together again— I would do it every time.