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List of Names
A list full of names you can use for your stories.
Fantasy Names Part I
Fantasy Names Part II
Fantasy Names Part III
Dark Academia Names (Girls)
Dark Academia Names (Boys)
Dark Academia Names (Genderneutral)
German Names (Girls)
German Names (Boys)
German Names (Genderneutral)
Random Names Part I
Random Names Part II
Random Names Part III
Random Names Part IV
Random Names Part V
Random Names Part VI
Random Names Part VII
Random Names Part VIII
Random Names Part IX
Random Names Part X
Names with Cute Nicknames (Girls)
Names with Cute Nicknames (Boys)
Mythological Names Part I
Mythological Names Part II
Botanical Names Part I
Botanical Names Part II
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state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader
in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :( avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.
Seventeen times.
That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend.
Or, rather, your cat did.
You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided.
But you did not love him, and he did not love you.
Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid.
He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.
He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything.
At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you.
Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold.
You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along.
Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence.
"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.
"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."
You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."
"That's just Morgan."
"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.
"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.
But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.
You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.
He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing.
Should be, but weren't.
You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were.
"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh.
"To what?"
"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.
"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses.
"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.
"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."
Oh, you had a few ideas why.
"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence.
"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."
"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?"
"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.
It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him.
Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.
"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."
"Why? I have yours."
"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."
He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said.
Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?
"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."
"What do you mean?"
"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."
For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you.
"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."
"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"
"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"
"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess, dating."
"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."
"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"
"I guess?"
"So now we're dating."
"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.
"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.
"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop.
He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you.
"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"
You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke.
"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.
"That's what I want too," he answers.
"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"
He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual.
"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."
Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."
"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."
"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."
"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."
Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it.
"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere.
"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."
"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"
Well, when he asks you like that.
"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."
Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.
"Thank you."
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I Can See You [Spencer Reid]
Summary: You've been dating Spencer for almost a year and you are yet to tell your big brother, Aaron
Warnings: bad writing 🤣. fluff, some angst
Word count: 1764
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotchner!Reader
You hadn’t meant to keep it a secret this long. You didn’t want to. But when it came to you dating, your brother was way too overprotective. You loved him to death for it but it also pissed you off to no end.
Spencer freaked when he found out that you were Hotch’s baby sister and even broke it off for a while because he felt as though he was betraying him. But you had crept into his heart and you weren’t planning on vacating any time soon.
Even when you weren’t together, you were the only thing on his mind. You’d be there constantly whilst he was on a case. He couldn’t concentrate and it was painfully obvious to everyone. Even Hotch. The latter pulled him aside and told him to fix what was going on before he got someone or himself killed.
That counts as his blessing, right?
As soon as they touched down in Washington he rushed over to your apartment to see you. Throwing quick goodbyes to everyone and not looking back.
“Pretty boy has a girl. I’m calling it,” Morgan called out, pointing at the quickly retreating Spencer.
That was almost 11 months ago. 11 months of sneaking around behind your brother’s back. Which wasn’t too much of an issue when you first started dating but now you were an agent in the Criminal Investigative Division of the FBI. That meant both you and Spencer had longer work hours and often different schedules. So sometimes you two decide to see each other at the office. You knew it was risky and quickies in the car doesn’t compare to the bedroom but you both took what you could get.
However, recently, Spencer had been arguing that maybe it was time to tell your brother. You assumed he felt guilty. Not guilty enough to stop the sex in the FBI garage but guilty enough.
He did feel guilty but there was another reason he wanted to tell your brother.
You wanted to tell Aaron too. Really you did. But you’ve put it off so long that you know that he’s gonna be disappointed you didn’t tell him sooner. Anger you could take but the one thing you never wanted to do was disappoint him.
He was your idol. Your hero. The person you’ve always looked up to. The one you wanted to make proud. That’s why you joined the FBI. You wanted to make him proud. And he was, he just wished you’d picked a safer occupation.
He was concerned and worried every time you and your team left the office and was finally able to breathe when you arrived back. If he was away on a job when you came back you went to see Penelope or Peach as you called her. It was a deal you made with Aaron so he knew you were okay. Spencer didn’t oppose to this arrangement either because all he had to do was look at Hotch and he’d know that you were okay.
But one day, that call from Penelope was a little different. The team had come back... without you.
The simple arrest of Washington’s newest drug kingpin had turned into a kidnapping. Yours.
The BAU team couldn’t do anything but wait for the plane to land in Washington. In four hours time. Hotch hadn’t said a word. Neither had Spencer and the moment he didn’t make his move on the chess board, everyone took notice.
He just stared out the window and waited. Images of what you were going through at that very moment flashed though his mind. Were you hurt? Were you scared?
Were you alive?
Even your brother had snapped out of his thoughts and took notice of his lack of presence inside the jet. Sure he’d noticed your closeness but he didn’t think anything of it. You were close with Penelope and JJ too. But as he started to think back, he starts to see all the little signs. Small things.
But one thing in particular was how comfortable Spencer was with you. So easily comfortable. It all started to become clear. Aaron had figured you were seeing someone but you wouldn’t tell him who and as you’ve grown older you’ve become more adept at covering your tracks. Morgan also speculated on multiple occasions that Spencer was seeing someone.
What should he feel? Anger because you didn’t tell him or betrayal because you’re his sister and Spencer was one of his agents? His baby sister. And no matter how old you were, that’s what you were always going to be.
He would’ve been completely pissed. Shouting, demanding answers and an explanation if it wasn’t for what he was seeing in front of him.
Worry, fear, pain and helplessness. The same thing he’d see if he looked in the mirror right now. He didn’t have to ask. He knew.
When the plane finally landed, the team wasted no time in getting back to the office. Aaron inserts himself into the operation to get you back, not taking no for an answer and Spencer is right there with him.
Even when he was ordered not to interfere because he was too close, he did exactly that. You were in trouble, no way was he not going to tear up the entire state looking for you.
He told the team to stand down, not wanting them to get into trouble for defying a direct order but none of them budged. At this point, you were their family too.
The longer you’re missing the more it takes it’s toll on Spencer. So much so that he’s the first one to lash out at your boss when it’s found out that there has been a ransom made in exchange for your return to no action had been taken to do that.
“We’re not going to hand over all the evidence for his trial,“
”The hell we won’t,“
“We can’t—”
“—leave her there”
“Reid,” Aaron spoke, his voice loud to get his attention but no anger was in it. He reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder, gently pulling him away from your boss “so,” he started, stepping forward to take his place, “What exactly are you doing to find my sister?”
“I don’t tell you how to run your team Hotchner, don’t tell me how to run mine,”
“Alright listen here,” Aaron stepped closer, right in his face, “if one hair on her head is out of place, I swear I’ll—”
“Hotch!”
“What?!”
“Maybe we should just give them some space to work and—”
”they’ve had five hours and they barely know where she was snatched from,“
Gideon gave him a look. One that told him to play along. He did and the team followed him to their usual conference room. Each of them branching off to do what they do best, working tirelessly to get you back.
And they did this for hours until Morgan got a text from Penelope, who conveniently was lounging at your desk.
They received a video
Aaron and Spencer rushed out of the office and down to yours. Your brother had tried to stop him from going, not wanting him to see you in a possibly horrific state but he couldn’t stop. He had to see you and he did.
He tried to ignore the blood, the wounds and focus on your hands, that to your captors, were wriggling due to the ache of them being tied up for hours but to Spencer and the others it was a message.
Trains... every 12 minutes... the only clue you knew about your whereabouts, and you knew that maybe it wouldn’t be enough so you added a little something to prepare for that.
I love you
With the reminder of their demands, the video fades to black, much like your vision.
Your eyes only opened again when you heard gunshots and shouting. The voices sounded familiar but muffled, far away. Perhaps you were imagining them and you were convinced you were until a door clanged open.
Someone called your name, followed by the sound of running footsteps, that got louder with each step. It wasn’t long until the footsteps stopped and a figure knelt down beside you.
”Angel?“ he spoke softly, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. His thumbs wiping the tearstains away.
”you found me“
”Yeah, Angel, we did,“ he replied, moving to untie your hands. As soon as you were free, you threw your arms around him, holding on so tight because you were afraid that he’d disappear. He moves his head slightly to the side to press a kiss to your temple, ”I love you too, Angel“
”I love you more,“
You smile, pulling away. He got your message. The smile faltered slightly when you looked up and your brother came into view.
Uh oh. Did he know?
You didn’t know what to expect. The thought of losing your brother was worse than the pain you had been through the past god knows how long.
You had thought about him finding out so often and he was angry, disappointed, betrayed. None of your playthroughs of this moment ever ended happily.
”I’m so glad you’re safe, (y/n),“ he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your head like he had always done.
”you’re not mad?“
Spencer looked up at him too, curious about the answer himself.
”of course not,“ he said, okay a little lie but you’d been through enough and he’d be stupid to ignore what was right in front of him.
Your eyebrows scrunched as you lift you head from Spencer’s chest, moving closer because you were sure you misheard him, ”you’re not,“
He sighed opening his arms for you to hug. You didn’t waste any time, tears falling as you sob into his shoulder, ”I thought you’d be mad, and I’d lose you,“
”I was mad at first,“ he admitted, one of his hands stroking your hair in a soothing rhythm, ”because you didn’t tell me,“ he added and you started apologising profusely but he stopped you, ”I’m not anymore because the truth is—“ He patted Spencer on his shoulder ”—you couldn’t have chosen a better man“
You smiled so much of the way home. So much so, you thought your cheeks were stuck like that.
You had asked Aaron if he wanted to join you two for dinner and after you giving him that look you always gave him to get whatever you want, your best puppy dog eyes, he said yes.
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Twisted fantasy
Prompt: Reader asked her boyfriend Spencer to dress up as Ghostface and he obliged.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, dirty talking, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, hair pulling, breath play, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie
Words: 4.1k
A.N.: Thank you to @vampireids for beta-reading this!
“I can’t believe I agreed to do this.”
I could hear the faint sound of Spencer pacing around the room on the other side of the door, along with grunts as he tried to put on the tightest pair of black trousers I had managed to find.
When October started, I knew it was time for me to make my demand. Even though I had no reason to complain about the many different ways Spencer and I celebrated Halloween, I had one more fantasy to fulfil. Just a little idea that had been stuffed inside my brain for too many years.
I knew Spencer wouldn’t have denied me anything, so I wasn’t surprised to find a Ghostface mask in my Amazon cart a few days after our conversation.
“You did it because you love me!”
Spencer huffed and I saw the lights flickering inside his bedroom. “I don’t have to prove my love to you by wearing a Ghostface mask.”
“No, but it would certainly be a nice thing to do!”
The door opened with such force it smacked against the cold wall. I took a step back and I almost collapsed to my knees when Spencer walked out.
I couldn’t even see his eyes, but I knew he was hiding that damned cocky smirk he had on his face every fucking time he understood what was going on in my brain. It wasn’t difficult to imagine, because I knew exactly how my face looked at that moment.
Spencer looked absolutely stunning in total black.
The shirt was tight on his chest and his sleeves were rolled up at his elbow, making him appear even more delicious to my eyes. His waist was perfectly hugged by those tight black trousers he didn’t want to wear, but did it for me, and his thighs made me want to drop down on the floor and nibble all over him.
And then, of course, the Ghostface mask.
Sure, it wasn’t the real Ghostface with the black cape and whatever, but it didn’t matter.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Spencer asked.
His eyes were covered, I could barely see the outline underneath the mask, and that turned me on more than I could describe. I could barely think straight. And his voice… shivers ran down my spine.
“Damn,” was all I could say.
Spencer chuckled in amusement, but the sound of his laugh was toned down by the mask covering his mouth. I had no idea why the outfit turned me on more than I could explain to myself, but it did - and I was glad we had no parties to attend that night, because I wouldn’t have let him leave his house.
There was something inexplicably exciting in not seeing his face, but allowing him to touch me as he pleased.
I had every right to drag him back into his bedroom and use him for my own pleasure, finally making my fantasy come true - and also put an end to my miserable desire for my boyfriend.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Spencer asked again.
I whined, staring at him. “Why, do you want to ask me out on a date?”
Though I could not see Spencer’s face, I knew that he was smirking. He was enjoying this probably as much as I was, which made me happy.
“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
I took another step back to admire every inch of my boyfriend and sighed. I covered my mouth with a hand when Spencer leaned on the doorstep of our bathroom.
“You never told me your name.”
He didn’t move from where he was standing, but I was squirming either way. Spencer hadn’t laid a finger on me yet, but I was ready to jump on him at any minute.
“Why do you wanna know my name?”
“I wanna know who I’m looking at.”
Spencer opened his arms so that I could look at every detail, but before I could say anything to him he grabbed me by the waist. He pulled me closer to his body and I gasped, pressing both my hands on his chest.
I was sure that my eyes were in the shape of hearts. I had never felt this turned on before in my life, not even during our first time together and the first time we slept in the same bed - which led us to fuck on basically every surface of his bedroom.
“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost.”
I brought both my hands on his chest, grasping his shirt. I was positive my eyes were shining, staring at my boyfriend like a starved woman in front of a delicious buffet. After all, Spencer looked like a snack and I was craving something sweet.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
Spencer leaned closer to me and I struggled to look at him, or at the mask. His hands moved from my waist up to my neck, forcing me to keep my eyes on him the whole time. I hated that I couldn’t really see him, but that turned me on either way.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand your obsession with this mask but if it turns you on this much” Spencer dug his fingers into my waist, “I will wear it every night.”
I slid my hands up his chest, tugging on the black tight shirt. “I could eat you.”
“That’s my job, darling. Let me eat you.”
And who was I to deny such a thing?
Spencer helped me to lay down on the bed with my hips on the edge of it, trembling with anticipation. It didn’t take long for him to spread my legs with his large hands, admiring the already wet spot on my panties.
“Already wet?”
Despite his face being hidden by the mask, I could feel the smug grin just forming on those damned plump lips.
“Shut up.”
Spencer ran his hands all over my thighs, dragging my panties down my legs. He threw them somewhere and quickly brought his thumb over my clit, massaging it so slowly that it almost made me cry. Spencer knew how much I hated teasing, but he loved it so much - probably more than sex itself.
“My sweet girl. Shouldn’t you be scared of me?”
A part of me wished I could be able to see his face, but the irrational part of me thought the mask was incredibly hot. I didn’t know what part of my brain was attracted to it, especially if it was worn by my FBI boyfriend, but still - I was thankful that Spencer brought my fantasy to life.
“Fuck, just finger me. Please?”
Spencer hummed, teasing my entrance with his finger. “Should I?”
“I’ll be good for you. Please?”
I whined under his ministrations, following the rhythm of his hand as soon as his index finger slipped deep inside of me. I knew Spencer could never deny me anything and him wearing that fucking mask was the proof of it.
The squelching sound of my wetness against Spencer’s palm made me shiver as I gripped the bedsheets underneath me. His finger brushed against my sweet point and I found myself gasping for hair when Spencer’s other hand pressed down on my throat.
I was caged between his slim body and the soft mattress underneath me, spiralling in warm pleasure that washed over me. My toes curled and I felt myself drifting off to that state that I craved each time I was underneath my boyfriend’s body.
Spencer was staring down at me, I could feel it even though I couldn’t see it. He squeezed my throat again with his fingers, digging them into my skin - I was going to have bruises the next morning, but did I truly care?
“Always such a good girl for me. Look at you.”
Spencer’s condescending tone made me clench around his finger and he quickly added another one, stretching me out gently as my wetness coated him. The more he squeezed my throat, the more I could feel my soul disappearing from my body and the pleasure taking control of every inch of me.
My knuckles were white and my whole body was tensing underneath Spencer’s, his fingers working in and out of me at a quick pace that rendered me breathless. His hand was still pressing down on my throat.
It was difficult to explain the state of peace I felt myself drifting off to, but I felt like I was floating above air. The white clouds caressing my skin ever so gently while my body was carried far away. The lack of oxygen made it easy for Spencer to gain control of me, my body and every sensation that he brought me with his fingers inside of me and his thumb on my clit.
“You wanna come for me, my special girl?”
His voice was loud and clear in my ears, but I could not find the strength or the will to answer him. I just stared at him with my eyes wide open, gripping his forearm to release some of the tension that I felt building within my body.
“The last time you were this turned on, was when you saw me shooting with my gun. Should I pull that out?”
My whole body was trembling as his fingers quickened their pace inside of me, making a mess all over the bedsheets - I could feel my own wetness and Spencer’s saliva dripped down between my thighs.
“Spencer, p-please.”
Spencer didn’t waste any time in cooing at me. I knew that if I ripped that mask away at that specific moment I would’ve found a sly smirk on his lips - and God, did that fucking turn me on.
“You can’t speak, my special girl? Too stupid to think right? To even speak right?”
When he pulled his fingers out of my wet cunt and removed his hand from my throat, I gasped for air and stared at the ceiling with a shocked look on my face. I was not expecting him to remove all the sources of pleasure at once, but somehow it turned me on even more.
I knew what was about to come.
Spencer’s leather belt came undone quickly as he adjusted the mask on his face.
“I need to be inside you. Now.”
Spencer didn’t need to announce what he was about to do to me because I knew it; I had a feeling that everything was turning him on too much, I could feel it in his hands and the way his grip was so firm on my thighs. It felt like Spencer was trying to anchor me to a moment, to a feeling, to the promise of giving me an amount of pleasure that would keep me satisfied the whole night.
“Please,” was all I could whisper.
Spencer grabbed my forearm, forcing me to sit up for a moment. My head was spinning so hard I barely registered my shirt being removed as Spencer left me completely naked in front of him. He was still all dressed up, despite his shirt being slightly crumpled.
I didn’t know why, but knowing that he was still dressed while I was naked made me even more desperate for the man in front of me. And Spencer knew it as he pushed me down on the bed again.
He grabbed my ankles and dragged me closer to the edge again, while he pushed his breeches down enough to free his waist.
“So desperate for me, aren’t you?”
I whined, not really in the mood for more teasing. “You have no idea.”
“I’ll take good care of you now, my special girl.”
I closed my eyes and reclined my head back, waiting for Spencer to just end my misery and give me exactly what I was aching for. My thighs were trembling, my lips were quivering and my heart was beating so hard against my ribcage - if we were silent, I would’ve heard it echo through the walls of our bedroom.
And then, a second later, I felt Spencer’s cock teasing my entrance. I gasped at the delicious feeling, immediately looking at my boyfriend - that fucking mask was preventing me from seeing his pretty face, but didn’t it look fucking perfect on him.
“Just fuck me, Spence. Please!”
I supposed Spencer didn’t like the tone I used as I spoke to him, because he leaned on top of me and grabbed a handful of my hair. He pulled on it so hard that it brought tears to my eyes, but I wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world - it felt deliciously good.
Spencer must’ve noticed the tears.
“Oh, are you crying?” he asked, his voice dangerously sweet, “I’ll give you something to cry about.”
Spencer tightened his grip on my hair and tugged on it again, forcing me to get up from the bed. He was controlling me through the painful grip he had on my hair and I swore I had never felt his fingers keeping me close to him so harshly before. I didn’t know if the mask had switched something inside of him, but I did not complain once.
The fine line between pain and pleasure was subtle, and Spencer was allowing me to ride it.
Spencer used his free hand to bend me over the bed without laying on it, while the other was still tangled in my hair. I had no idea what Spencer had in mind, but I was ready to follow him through everything - hoping that he would just fuck me at someone point.
“You’re dripping. Are you enjoying what I’m doing to you, my special girl?”
His voice was so fucking hot.
I nodded my head, hissing when he pulled my hair again. “Yes. Always.”
Spencer moved his free hand down between my thighs, slowly bending over with his chest pressed to my back, and found my entrance again. He slowly sunk his ring and middle finger inside of me, not finding any resistance, and started fucking me again.
I wanted his cock inside of me, not his fingers, but I remained quiet.
Struggling to breathe and with my thighs trembling, I moaned his name and leaned my head on the soft pillow on top of the bed. His fingers disappeared inside of me as my wetness coated his palm, dripping onto the bed sheets.
“My special girl,” he pressed open-mouthed kisses all over my naked back, “Am I making you feel good? You like my fingers fucking your aching cunt?”
I saw stars when I heard him speak in such a dirty way and my body reacted as I clenched around his fingers. Spencer must’ve felt it because he chuckled, the sound of his amused laugh muffled by the mask - I was tempted to just take it off and throw it away.
“Please…”
My brain was dizzy, I could not form a coherent thought. All I could think about was just Spencer fucking me with his fingers, with his cock, his hands all over me, bruises and bites decorating my skin.
I was desperate.
Spencer couldn’t care any less, though. He enjoyed the loudness of my moans, the way my body trembled each time his fingers bottomed out, the squelching sound of his palm against my weeping cunt.
Spencer curled his fingers, pressing his digits on that spongy spot inside of me, and I found myself almost crying from the amount of pleasure my body was forced to experience. My legs were on the verge of giving out and my hands gripped the bed sheets so hard my knuckles became white.
Still fucking me with his fingers, Spencer took off the mask and threw it somewhere - I saw it flying on the ground and I almost laughed. Spencer bit the skin between my shoulder blades - one of my favourite places he’d bite. The sharp pain radiated through my body immediately and I whined his name, pushing my hips back to reach his.
“Spence… please.”
His cock pressed against my thigh, but his fingers were relentless. All I could think about was the stabbing pleasure that his cock would’ve brought to me - how wet I was for the man behind me, how desperate I was to feel his balls slap against my buttocks each time he thrusted into me. I was out of my fucking mind with neediness and Spencer was basking in it.
“Do you want my cock, my sweet girl?”
I nodded my head, my tongue felt heavy in my mouth. The pleasure was building slowly but steadily in the pits of my stomach, my trembling thighs an obvious sign of that.
“You can have it, then.”
Spencer removed his fingers all at once and I groaned, disappointed but not surprised. His cock rested heavy on my inner thigh before he dragged it through my wet folds, coating it. I knew that he was admiring the sight and how much I was squirming because of him - Spencer was a sucker for my devotion and my obsession for him.
“Give it to me. Please?” I begged
Spencer cooed, biting the back of my neck again. “Want it all inside of you? Want me to paint your walls with my cum?”
I nodded with my eyes closed, feeling tears of frustration pricking at each side. “Yes. Yes, yes.”
Spencer tapped the tip of his cock against my clit, then teased my entrance with it. He slipped in for a single second and I thought my whole world exploded. The pleasure flashed behind my eyes, but disappeared as soon as Spencer pulled away.
My hands were twisting the sheets. “Fuck!”
Behind me, Spencer laughed at my pathetic complaint. It wasn’t a fun laugh, it wasn’t a cute laugh. No, it was a cruel laugh that reverberated through every inch of my body and turned me on more than it should have. Spencer sounded exactly like Ghostface, if it even made sense.
“So desperate,” Spencer whispered in my ear, biting my earlobe, “Such a whore for my cock.”
I protested again with another whine and Spencer pushed his cock inside of me again, but removed it as soon as I wiggled against him. Each time I would move, he’d pull out - and that made my heart tremble in my chest. He was teasing me so cruelly, without a care - but I didn’t blame him.
Spencer put on a mask for me. I deserved to be tortured a little.
“Oh, stop crying,” Spencer grabbed my hair again, pulling it hard, “I fuck you every chance I get, you’re not going to die if I don’t fuck you now.”
Actually, he was wrong - I was a hundred percent positive that I was going to die if Spencer wasn’t going to fuck me rough, hard and fast in less than five minutes. I wanted to answer him, to beg him again but the tone he used did not admit any talk back.
I stayed quiet, simply wiggling my hips in order that he’d just give in to his own desire.
“Good, be quiet for me and I’ll give you my cock.”
Spencer used his free hand to caress my waist, dragging his fingers over the curves of my buttocks. His other hand was still gripping my hair, but slowly loosened his grip until he brought both hands on my hips.
And when he finally pushed his cock inside of me, meeting no resistance, he started to rock his hips at a painfully slow pace. I didn’t know if Spencer wanted me to die at that moment, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of having me cry because of him - despite the hot tears streaming down my face.
“That’s my sweet girl. Your cunt feels so fucking good.”
I clung to the bed sheets with both hands, trying to meet his hips but Spencer stopped me. He didn’t say anything; instead, he enjoyed the way my body sucked him in so fucking good that his soft whimpers echoed through the walls of our room. I knew that Spencer loved to watch how my body reacted to his touch, to his painfully slow thrusts and I let him - there was nothing better than knowing he was turned on because of my body.
“Please, please, please.”
No other word came out of my mouth.
Spencer started thrusting into me slightly faster, but not fast enough to make me come. It was a slow torture that I knew he was basking in - and what made it even more frustrating for me was the light slaps that he gave to my buttocks.
“Feels so good, sweet girl.”
Spencer muttered to me, caressing my buttocks before slapping both with his palms. Over and over, I could feel my skin become hotter and I wiggled away each time he struck me - it hurt, but I enjoyed it far more than I should have.
When I felt myself losing the train of thoughts running through my mind, Spencer reminded me that he could read me like a book and he picked up the pace of his thrusts. I barely had the time to fix the position I was in because Spencer started to pound into me harder and harder. His balls were slapping against my buttocks and his hands were digging into my skin, leaving bruises that I would admire for the next few days.
“Take me so fucking well. So proud of you, sweet girl.”
My knees were sore as they scraped against the bed sheets, but I wasn’t going to complain. I kept my mouth shut and leaned my forehead on the pillow, stretching my back with my arms gripping the headboard of our bed.
Spencer moaned at the sight and his thrusts became even harsher. I knew he was desperately close, I could feel it in the tension of his chest pressed to my back and the quick gasps that fell from his lips.
“Wanna cum?” he taunted me.
I nodded, my lips twitching into a smirk. “Yes, please. Make me come, please.”
Spencer seemed determined to make me cum first, his left hand still dinging into the soft skin of my waist. His right hand moved between my thighs and his thumb pressed over my clit, eliciting a long unexpected moan.
“Show me how good I’m making you feel, sweet girl,” Spencer whispered in my ear, his voice low, “Cum on my cock like the whore that I know you are.”
My toes were curling, the pleasure becoming intolerable. Every inch of my body trembled because of his ministrations; I was a puppet in his skilled fingers and Spencer knew it, as he finally pushed me off the edge of my desire.
With his left hand Spencer pushed my head into the mattress, cutting off the air supply as he buried his cock deep inside of me - I felt him breaching my cervix and it hurt, but Gods.
I did not want Spencer to stop.
I needed that pleasure to keep coming in waves through me as it exploded over and over again. I had no idea if I was breathing, I had no idea if I had died and went straight to Hell.
Spencer groaned in my ear, a sound that I wish I could’ve recorded, and I felt his warmth fill me up deeply. More tears fell from my eyes as I struggled to lift my head up, exhausted and trembling like a leaf in the middle of a storm. I did not expect to have an orgasm so earth-shattering. And I did not expect Spencer to take off the mask like that, with a disrupting anger that did not belong to him. It was endearing and incredibly hot.
I collapsed onto the bed with Spencer’s body on top of mine, his lips peppering my back with light kisses.
“Sorry about the mask.”
I hissed when he pulled out of me, the sudden loss stinging. “Fuck the mask.”
Spencer chuckled at my response. “But I thought you loved it.”
“Oh, I do,” I replied, rolling on my back, “But I love seeing your face way more.”
He got off the bed and went straight to the bathroom, bringing me a warm washcloth so that he could clean himself off me and then himself. I was too weak to move and my thighs were still trembling - I wouldn’t have been able to walk to the bathroom without waddling.
“Right, so I should keep the mask on in the beginning and then take it off.”
I nodded my head, sitting up on the bed. “That’s a good compromise. Next Halloween I’ll bring one of your fantasies to life. Deal?”
Spencer scratched his chin with his fingers, humming. “I’m not really sure if I want to fuck a character from a movie or a book, though.”
“Okay, then I’ll dress up like myself.”
He chuckled, laying back down beside me. “Oh, that I love.”
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okay i saw your post about uni eating you alive and just had to ask if that was a screen shot of a notion page for writing ideas? If so, could you please elaborate a little about it and how you plan your fics (as a fellow writer and notion nerd)
pls and ily xx
hello! omg i havent been online on tumblr ... IN A WHILE ... YESSS it was a notion page for writing ideas. my notion page mostly consists of fandoms (besides criminal minds) that i write for (but not necessarily publish for iygwim)
i separate my writing into orig work, fandom OCs, and x reader works. i create tags for these so it's easy for me to filter + another tag for the OC/reader's main love interest
the way i plan my fics usually happens in two ways. first is that i write down dialogues/paragraphs that HIT ME and that i wanna use in the future. second is i layout how the post itself is gonna look before i write the actual imagine/scenario/blurb. KINDA LIKE THIS:
++ my current pages ! and how i layout a main navi page per fandom (i was inspired by how ao3 tagging works)
idk if this is in any way informative/helpful/or if i answered ur ask properly dhjfgkjfdhgh im kinda scatterbrained rn !! lol but hiii ily tysm for sending ur ask <333
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There Beneath — Spencer Reid.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: In which everyone but you forgot his 30th birthday.
Word Count: 875+
Disclaimer/s — Happy birthday to the nerd ever! ^_^ + sunshine!reader, fluff/comfort, and… yeah, beautiful!
A/N: Based off this request, ‘Hey pook! So spencer blurb or whatever and it’s based off the “you’re 29” “im 30” “we missed your birthday?” except reader didn’t. so back to his bday and maybe reader shows up at his apt with a thing of books she KNOWS he hasn’t read and tea and his favorite coffee and stuff. #fluff #ineedspencer #iloveu’! My layout messed up on the other one and I ended up deleting it! So.
Blank stare. “No way… we missed your birthday?”
All Spencer could do was stare right back and offer a small, awkward smile, averting his gaze. They had. They all had. Except for, well, you.
You’ve had his birthday marked on your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you didn’t go all out for your best friend’s birthday. You spent half of September secretly and subtly finding out what Spencer Reid did throughout his… rare days at home. His answer every time was that he liked to read, play chess, go out for coffee, or watch his favorite show, ‘Doctor Who’. Okay! Okay, good.
So, with that being said, you did your utmost to grab all of the wrapped presents without fail. You did it, with a grunt and muttered curses, but you did it. Slamming your car door shut, you made your way up to his apartment. The familiar brown door coming into view made your heart quicken.
Stopping right in front of his place, you knocked with the front of your foot. You heard sounds of shuffling before his door swung open. Spencer’s expression shifting from confusion to surprise as he slowly said your name, his head tilting. “Hey… how are you? What are you doing here?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “It’s your birthday. Happy birthday!” A short pause. “Please grab your presents before they fall on the floor.”
With a small laugh, the brunette quickly moves to grab them. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as the weight is lifted. Stepping back, he sets them on his table, politely inviting you inside his house.
“So, am I the first one? Or did Penelope beat me to it. Actually, wait, don’t even answer that.”
Something you can’t quite identify crosses his features, and you instantly know you’ve said something wrong. That’s when it hits you, “No.”
Spencer immediately shrugs. “It’s fine! I’m not... hurt by it or anything. They’re just busy.”
You could’ve hugged him right then, but you refrain. Instead, you slip your hand into your tote bag and pull out a ‘Birthday Boy’ pin. His expression drops, making you laugh. “Come on!”
He remains silent, simply staring at you.
“I’ll wear the birthday hat if you wear the pin.”
His shoulders slump in defeat, and he nods, his eyes widening slightly when you instantly move toward him. Your bottom lip sinks between your teeth, clipping the pin onto his sweater, making sure not to poke him in the process. “There! How’s that? Did I poke you?”
Spencer shakes his head, too flushed to speak.
Without acknowledging it, you pull out the hat, carefully sliding it over your head. With a giddy glance up at him, you ask, “Do I look silly?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“What!” You stammer, “I’m being serious! Do I?”
“You look beautiful. What’s in these?” Smooth.
“Your gifts—wait! Sit down first,” you insisted, watching how he does exactly that. You clasp your hands together in clear anticipation.
Spencer purses his lips, staring at the various wrapped boxes in front of him, unsure of which one to open first. It wasn’t that hard…
Just pick one.
Grabbing the one with light blue wrapping paper, he tenderly rips it open. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of different books—all first editions.
“How did you—” he trails off, “How?”
“How did I know? I remember you talking about it one day, so, I did some digging and I finally found them. Do you like them? Let me know.”
He traces a single finger down the spine, his smile broadening. “A lot. Thank you so much. Wow.”
Your smile grows even brighter at the sight of his widening. “Hugs afterward, keep opening!”
More of your gifts are unveiled; among them are two boxes of his favorite tea, his preferred coffee, and even a bag of sugar added in. Humorous.
This had truly made his entire day. Or, to be more precise, you had made his entire day.
Once everything was opened, he stands up and slides his hands over your waist, interlocking them behind your back while yours move to wrap loosely around his neck. “You liked everything?”
“I loved them, thank you. Really. Thank you.”
You hummed softly, “Happy birthday, Spencer.”
He says nothing but nestle his head deeper into the crook of your neck.
After a couple more minutes of comfortable silence, you quietly inquired, “Movie marathon?”
“Please. I’ll make tea, you can pick the movie.”
“It’s your birthday!” You frowned, pulling away.
“My birthday or not, you’re my guest. Choose.”
Your frown doesn’t even seem to linger at that, a smile threatening to break out on your face. You let out a huff and walk into his living room. With a glance back, you notice how much happier he seems compared to when you had first arrived.
You were certain that you’d do this for him every year. After picking the movie, he sat down beside you and set both your cups of tea on the table.
If he was being honest, he’d let you. And maybe one day, you wouldn’t just be his best friend. Not with your head resting on his shoulder, like this was just another casual evening spent together.
What’s the harm in making this, you, permanent?
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri ! ౨ৎ
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death prompts that tore my heart apart:
(feel free to use<3 tw/mentions of blood! @urfriendlywriter yall.. 18th to 25th ones</3 tag me when yall write, i wanna read!!)
cradling them into your arms, blood smearing all over you
^ they try to smile, followed by an immediate hiss
"it hurts, huh."
"shh, it's gonna be fine. please keep talking." "i can't.. t-talk-"
their blood smudged hand reach for your cheek. eyes trying to focus on you
"i.. love you."
"this is not your fault."
"i can't.. *tearing up* i can't feel your touch."
eyes tearing up, not knowing what to tell you
"it hurts so much, it's so.." frustrated tears flow because there's nothing they can do now
"please don't leave me.." "i want to rest, my love."
hugging them, saying something to them and then panicking, when they don't respond. (bonus points if one said i love you and the other died right after hearing it!!)
wincing between every word.
"I'm- so...so sorry."
"You're my heaven o-on earth, did you k-know that? :)" followed my an attempt at a smile that shreds you apart.
constant shortness of breath.
they take your hand and kiss it, griping it tight. it's when their grip loosens, you know...
"You've to live your life, [name]. You need to survive, and move on, and-and be.. happy. The happiest. just like i am now."
^ "why are you happy--now?" "because i get to die in your arms. the safest place.."
noticing a tear rush down their cheek after they've closed their eyes.
"no, no-no, fuck, [name], don't give up on me like that, please-please.. stay.."
"I'm gonna get you--" "no, no, no.. no don't. don't l-leave me alone, [name]. I can't br-breathe..."
"let go of me, love, I'm gonna sleep now."
lying near their cold unmoving body.
^ holding their limb hand, praying that this is all a nightmare and then you can wake up to their cheerful self. stupid hope.
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If he ever looked at me this way I would physically fold
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someone on twitter said call me a waitress the way i need his tip i SCREAMED
i’m frothing at the mouth god
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Face painted Matthew is a concept so dear to me I cherish him so much
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dear god when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man
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Exclusive photo of Matthew Gray Gubler on the set of "Einstein".
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wrapped around your finger | s.r.
in which you come home to find spencer in peak girl dad form
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, girldad!spencer, nail polish, this is technically the family from cryptic, but you don't need to read cryptic to know what's going on word count: 578 a/n: this is for the anon who asked for dad!spencer! i always have some dad!spencer on retainer for when the people are in need! it's nothing crazy, but i was cleaning up my desk and found a sticky note that said spencer would definitely let his daughter paint his nails.
A little voice carries itself from down the hallway, and you follow the sound of it. The carefully chosen words of your four-year-old daughter make you wonder who she could possibly be speaking to. Slowly, you walk down the hallway, trying not to alert anyone to your presence.
On your way, you peek into the nursery, your younger daughter sleeping soundly in her crib as you pass her, finally ending up at the doorway of Eleanor’s room, “Do you like the color?” She asks gently, holding her father’s hand in hers and inspecting his fingers.
“I love the color, thank you,” Spencer says politely, “You know, purple is my favorite color.”
The smile that blooms on her face is so bright, it makes you wish you’d never left the house in the first place. “Mommy told me!”
Nothing in all of the parenting books you’ve read prepared you for your firstborn to stop calling you mama. The switch had caught you off-guard, and you found yourself mourning the little girl she had been while simultaneously prideful of the personality that she was developing.
You’d have to keep better track of it with Olivia, though you and Spencer hadn’t come to a consensus on whether or not you were done after two kids. The sight in front of you might just be enough to convince you to go for a third.
Her princess tiara slides forward on her head as she focuses on painting Spencer’s nails, your husband sitting in a chair that’s comically small for him as her small hands deftly apply the lacquer.
Catching sight of you in his periphery, Spencer gives a soft smile in greeting, not wanting to alarm Eleanor of your appearance. “You’re really good at painting nails,” he observes, reaching his free hand up to adjust her crown.
“I wanna do it forever and ever,” she responds giddily, putting the brush back into the bottle. You notice the way Spencer reached over to seal the nail polish bottle, preventing a tragedy before it strikes.
Spencer hums in response, “If that’s what you want, lovebug.”
She smiles, spinning around in her PJs until she sees you, “Mommy!” She squeaks excitedly, running over to you and giggling when you pick her up.
“Hello, Princess Nellie,” you greet her, hugging her tightly before setting her back down. Listening to see if the ruckus woke up the baby, you walk further into the bedroom when you hear no stirring from the room next door.
She smiles, pointing at Spencer with a proud look on her face, “I painted daddy’s nails.”
“I see that,” you took in the sight before you, Spencer’s nails had indeed been painted, along with all of the skin surrounding them. “They look great honey,” you tell her, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
Nellie looks up at you expectantly, “Daddy said I can’t paint Livvy’s nails.”
You smile slightly at the pout on her face, “That’s right, she’s too little to have her nails painted.” Though you have to admit, you’ve been imagining mini spa nights with your daughters from the moment you found out you were having another girl.
Her eyes go wide as saucers, “Oh! Then it’s a good thing I have daddy.” She beams over at her father, and he looks at her with an equal amount of adoration in his eyes.
Grinning over at Spencer, you nod in agreement with her, “Yeah, it is a good thing.”
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I need someone to look at me like this while I’m yapping
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Masterlist
Aaron Hotchner:
Morning Rush: (Requested!) Hotch is late, the team makes it a big deal.
Honey, you're familiar: Hotch takes the day off and you take full advantage of it.
(lover) you should've come over (aka room sharing request): Hotch and reader share a room for a case.
Late Spring: In an Italian restaurant somewhere in Nebraska you and the BAU decompress after non stop cases. And like a magic trick SSA Aaron Hotchner goes back to being Aaron
Short n' Sweet: You and Hotch are not as sneaky as you thought you were.
is it casual now?: prompt: “i’ve never noticed how nice your voice sounds up close.”
goldrush: A lost moment in a hotel changed everything, even when it shouldn't have.
Spencer Reid:
Two Pair: After a rough case Spencer keeps you company while the rest of the BAU sleeps.
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