slushi-chan

[slushi-chan]

‘𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓.

Spencer eating you for your dear life, ‘cause baby, he’s a giver.

wc: 2.4k | F!Reader (Established Relationship) | cw: explicit sexual content, cunnilingus, fingering, vibrator use, overstimulation, sleepy sex?, mild power dynamics, teasing, implied age gap

A/N: Spencer is absolutely a giver in my mind, and I hope you all enjoy this! This is my first one-shot and my first time writing smut, so please feel free to share any feedback—I’d really appreciate it! My asks are always open.

Spencer is a giver—there's no doubt about it. He has studied you with a scholar's precision, but his devotion is deeper, almost reverent. He knows where to touch, how to kiss—his mouth slow and consuming, savoring every second, unraveling you with the deliberate slide of his tongue against yours. His teeth scrape over your bottom lip, a teasing sting that he soothes with a lingering press, a soft contrast to the hunger simmering beneath his touch.

And his hands—God, his hands. They move over you like he’s composing something exquisite, mapping each curve, each tremor, each stuttered breath with an intimacy that feels instinctual. He knows how to dismantle you, how to wind you so tightly in pleasure that you shatter in his grasp. His words pour into your ear, dark and teasing, igniting a heat that pools low and aching, leaving you breathless beneath him.

Sleep clings to you in slow waves, pulling you under, weaving you into something intoxicating, something inevitable. His hands find you first—fingertips gliding over your skin like a whisper of possession, tracing your curves, teasing, promising. The heat of his breath spills against your neck, the hushed murmur of your name curling like smoke in the thick air.

Then, his mouth—God, his mouth—claims yours, slow and insistent. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before his teeth catch, a bite of sharp, deliberate hunger.

You’re not in bed anymore. You’re pressed against the bookshelf, trembling under his touch, the rough wood biting into your spine, grounding you in the feverish haze. A book slips from your hands, forgotten the moment his lips trail lower, marking their path with slow, open-mouthed kisses.

He hums against your skin, his voice dark, indulgent. "Keep reading for me."

The command slithers down your spine, igniting something helplessly wanton inside you. You try—God, you try—to obey, lips parting, voice trembling, but the second his fingers sink deep, curling just right, the words unravel, lost in a gasp as he drags you under.

A sharp inhale rips you from the dream, the ghost of his touch still imprinted on your skin, heat curling deep and insatiable. Your thighs clench in a feeble attempt at relief, but it isn’t enough. It’s never enough—not when you wake up to find him lying beside you, lips parted, his breathing slow and steady, a cruel reminder that the hands you crave are just beyond reach.

Biting your lip, you slip a hand toward the nightstand, fingers grazing the smooth edge before you pull the drawer open just enough to reach inside. Your fingers find the well-worn spine of your favorite spicy book first—the one Spencer pretends to roll his eyes at but listens to whenever you read aloud in bed.

Beneath it, tucked away like a secret, is the small vibrator you keep for nights just like this—when Spencer is working late, when the ache refuses to fade, when his absence leaves you restless and wanting. You know better. You should just use your fingers—quieter, safer—but this? This is too good to resist. The way it hums against you, the way it sends pleasure curling through your veins in thick, decadent waves.

It’s never been a replacement for Spencer, not really, but God, it’s close enough to take the edge off when you need it most. Your pulse quickens as you wrap your fingers around it, the cool plastic a stark contrast to the heat pooling low in your belly. You hesitate, casting a glance at him—his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths, lips parted slightly in sleep—before exhaling softly, determination settling in your bones.

You start slow, pressing the toy against your clit through your panties, barely turning it on, letting the low hum tease you like the ghost of his touch. A quiet gasp escapes, your hips tilting into the sensation, but even this—God, even this—isn’t him.

Frustration coils tighter in your belly, the need for more gnawing at you, demanding. With a shaky exhale, you lift your hips, sliding your panties down, the cool air a stark contrast against the heat between your thighs. The vibrator follows, gliding against slick, sensitive skin, sending pleasure rolling through you in slow, deliberate waves.

Your breath stutters, fingers tightening around the toy as you sink into the feeling, chasing the edge, knowing it won’t ever feel as good as Spencer but unable to stop yourself from trying. The quiet hum of the vibrator is nearly drowned out by your own heavy breaths, the way your body trembles beneath the weight of your own need. Maybe if you just keep quiet, if you move slow—

But then—a shift. The bed dips. A sharp inhale from beside you.

Before panic can settle, warmth floods your senses—a heavy hand pressing against your stomach, grounding you in the moment. His touch is slow, deliberate, fingers splayed, sliding lower until they brush against yours, still gripping the toy. He hums low in his throat, voice thick with sleep yet unmistakably amused.

"Couldn't wait for me, could you?"

Spencer’s fingers curl over yours, his grip firm as he slowly pries the vibrator from your grasp. The moment it’s in his control, the pressure changes—subtly, precise, his touch calculated in a way that makes your breath catch. The sudden shift sends a sharp jolt of pleasure spiraling through you, tearing a gasp from your lips.

"Spencer—" It’s barely a whimper, swallowed by the way his body shifts closer, his breath hot against your neck.

"Shh," he soothes, his lips brushing your temple before trailing down to your jaw, soft and teasing. "Let me help."

His focus is singular. Unwavering.

"Besides," he murmured, pressing another kiss higher, teeth grazing sensitive skin just enough to make you shiver, "it’s only 5:17 a.m." Another pause, another deliberate press of his mouth. "I don’t have to get ready until six." His breath is warm, teasing, wicked. "Plenty of time to enjoy myself."

You let out a breathless laugh, fingers weakly carding through his hair. "You are such a giver, Spence."

His lips curve against your skin, and without missing a beat, he hums, "I do pride myself on my generosity."

Before you can reply, the aftershocks of your last orgasm still making your thighs tremble, he licks a slow, teasing stripe up your center. A full-body shudder ripples through you, your nerves still alight with oversensitivity. His hands tighten around your thighs, thumbs pressing into your skin, keeping you spread open, fully at his mercy. His mouth is warm and relentless, his tongue flicking, circling, pressing just right—like he’s savoring every tiny whimper and every shuddered breath.

He hums against you, the vibration sending another sharp spike of pleasure through your overstimulated body. "Still shaking," he muses, voice muffled against your slick skin. "So sensitive, but I think you can take just a little more, don’t you?"

He shifts, sealing his lips around your clit, sucking with slow, deliberate pressure, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you from squirming away. Your breath stutters, hips twitching involuntarily as pleasure coils hot and sharp in your stomach, overwhelming, dizzying. It’s too much and yet not nearly enough.

"Fuck—Spencer—"

He groans against you, the vibration sending another sharp jolt of pleasure through your oversensitive nerves. "Mmm. Say my name like that again."

His tongue presses deeper, his pace unrelenting, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming away. He’s thorough and determined, making sure every flick and swirl sends you hurtling toward that inevitable edge. And just when you think you might catch a break, his fingers join in—sliding inside you, curling just right, stroking in rhythm with his mouth.

You gasp, arching into him, hands flying to his hair, gripping tight. "Spencer, oh my—"

"That’s it," he coaxed between teasing licks. "Give me another one, sweetheart. I know you can."

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, keeping you in place. His mouth never wavers, his fingers never falter, dragging another sharp cry from your throat as another orgasm crashes over you, leaving you breathless and shivering. You’re still gasping for air when he pulls back just enough to murmur, "Still with me?"

You manage a weak, trembling nod, half-lost in the afterglow, and for a second, you think he might give you a reprieve.

But then he moves again—this time, slower, more deliberate. His fingers stroke along your inner thigh, coaxing, teasing. His breath is warm as he presses a kiss just above your knee, then another, trailing higher, the anticipation making your skin prickle.

"Spence—" you whimper, voice barely above a breath. "Sensitive."

He hums, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. "I know. That’s what makes it fun."

Then, without warning, his mouth is on you again, softer this time, but no less devastating. His tongue moves with careful precision, his fingers pressing deeper, curving just right. You writhe beneath him, overwhelmed, and when your hand weakly pushes at his head, he merely chuckles against you.

"That’s not our safeword, sweetheart."

You whimper, unable to do anything but surrender as he drags you to the edge again, slow and thorough, relentless in his devotion. The pressure builds again, unbearable, and when you finally shatter beneath him for the third time, he groans, swallowing every broken sound that spills from your lips.

You barely have time to recover before you feel him again—his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, "One more. Just one more."

You shake your head weakly, though your body betrays you, already arching into his touch. Your mind is hazy, barely clinging to the waking world, but Spencer? He’s focused, singular in his intent.

His mouth is on you again, lazy and indulgent, his tongue dragging slow, torturous circles that make your stomach tighten. His fingers press inside, stretching, teasing, working you open with practiced ease. You whimper, toes curling, every nerve alight.

"Almost there," he murmurs, voice frayed, breathless. "Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me."

Your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under with no hope of resurfacing. Your body trembles, shuddering apart beneath him, and this time—even Spencer groans, his breath hitching as if he’s feeling it just as intensely as you are. His hands flex against your hips, tightening like he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to take even more.

He presses one last, lingering kiss to your thigh before letting his head drop against you, exhaling a shaking breath.

Your vision wavers, the edges smudging into deep, inky black as the pleasure crests and breaks. The last thing you register is the warmth of Spencer’s mouth, the reverberation of his voice against your skin—low, coaxing, reverent.

Then, everything fades.

You resurface gradually—like wading through molasses, every inch of you weighted, sore in the most indulgent, well-earned way. The sheets are a tangled wreck around you, clinging to your overheated skin, undeniable evidence of everything Spencer just did to you. Your limbs are useless, your thoughts thick and sluggish, your body still humming with the aftershocks of him.

And yet.

Spencer is already awake.

“It’s 6:37 AM,” he announces smugly, from somewhere near the foot of the bed. “In case you were wondering.”

You groan, throwing an arm over your face. “Oh my God.”

“No, just Spencer,” he corrects, voice warm and teasing. “But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

When you manage to blink your eyes open, the sight that greets you almost makes you laugh—if you had the energy. Spencer stands there, utterly unbothered, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers covered in tiny owls. His curls are a disaster, sticking up wildly, and his lips are still pink from pressing them against every inch of your body.

He looks entirely too pleased with himself.

“Are you—” You swallow, voice hoarse. “Are you gloating?”

Spencer tilts his head, considering. “I’d say it’s more of a… reasonable acknowledgment of my achievements.”

You make a weak sound of protest. He grins.

The mattress shifts as he crawls back toward you, his hands finding your waist with practiced ease. He presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your shoulder—sweet, affectionate, in direct contrast to the way he ruined you not even thirty minutes ago.

Then, with an absolutely insufferable level of satisfaction, he murmurs, “Four times.”

You let out a wheezy breath, still not recovered enough to fight him on this. “I know, Spencer.”

He hums, trailing his lips up the side of your neck. “Just making sure it’s fully processed.”

You blindly shove at his shoulder, but it’s weak. He barely moves.

Instead, he settles beside you, tucking you against his chest, fingers idly stroking along your spine. He’s quiet for a moment—until he glances at the clock. And then, you see it. The exact moment he realizes his mistake.

His smirk flickers.

A pause. Then, lightly:

“I may have miscalculated.”

You snort. “You think?”

Spencer lets out a thoughtful hum, completely unrepentant as he presses a soft, lazy kiss to your forehead. “In my defense, I failed to account for… the lingering effects.” He shifts, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin. “Or my own overwhelming enthusiasm.”

You lift your arm just enough to glare at him. “You have work in an hour.”

He nods solemnly. “I’m aware.”

“I have work in two.”

Another nod. “Yes.”

“You owe me.”

Something flickers in his expression—thoughtful, determined. Then, without a word, he slips out of bed.

You frown. “Spencer?”

“Fixing it,” he calls, already halfway to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he returns with a steaming cup of your favorite coffee and a plate with a perfectly toasted bagel. He sets them on the nightstand with the precision of a man delivering an official peace offering before climbing back into bed and wrapping himself around you again.

You eye him suspiciously. “This is your plan?”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s called positive reinforcement.”

You sigh, taking a sip. It’s perfect. Of course, it is.

“You’re still in trouble,” you mumble, though the warmth of his body and the way he’s lazily stroking your back suggest otherwise.

Spencer just grins against your skin, utterly unbothered. “That’s fair.” A beat of silence. Then, far too pleased with himself, he murmurs, “But just so you’re aware… I already have a plan for making it up to you.”

You groan. Spencer just tucks you closer, and you don’t even have the energy to argue.

Then, after a moment of quiet, his voice comes soft and smug against your ear:

“You know, I am a giver.”

You huff a laugh, exhausted and hopelessly fond. “Shut up, Spencer.”

But all he does is press another kiss to your temple, grinning against your skin.

[slushi-chan]

Bill Paxton as Severen in Near Dark (1987) 🩸

[slushi-chan]

bill paxton. near dark. 1987.

[slushi-chan]

First cat video ever? 1899, colorized & speed corrected.

[slushi-chan]

criminal minds season 2's glasses!reid.

that's it. that's the post.

[slushi-chan]

the two fundamental truths of historical and contemporary mankind:

we were just as smart then as we are now

we are just as stupid now as we were then

[slushi-chan]

My wife is in my arms

[slushi-chan]

[slushi-chan]

Cat Toys & Blanket Covered Boys

•Plot - In which you and Spencer enjoy a day off together, glad to be able to be together instead of in secret, when Penelope stops by to deliver a present for your cat and sees a sight she’d rather not.

•Warnings - Suggestive content, mentions of sex, but ultimately pretty fluffy (as usual for me)

•Word Count - 537

•A/N - please send requests lol

It had been a really good day off. You’d think working with your boyfriend every day would make you want some time apart. Yet, in reality when it came to Spencer, you just wanted time between the two of you where you could be a couple. Where you could be intimate in any way you desired. From hand holding during suspenseful scenes in movies, to random moments where you two just decide to jump each other’s bones.

Which is what happened today. You were watching something on Hulu with Spencer by your side, and your cat on the edge of the couch. He had gotten quite fond of your partner. By the time the movie ended and credits began to roll in, you noticed your cat had gone off to another room and it was just you and Spencer and my god did he look good.

It was relatively short compared to your usual sessions, but enjoyable nonetheless. You probably would’ve continued on if the two of you weren’t so exhausted from working that week. You were too tired to even get dressed again, deciding that a shared blanket was good enough.

That was when a knock rang through the door, followed by another, and another. Spencer looked to you and you shrugged.

“Probably a delivery, I’ll get it.” You slipped on your shirt from the floor and followed it with Spencer’s boxers. They were basically like shorts on you. You turned to Spencer, smiling, then went to the door.

“Y/N!” Penelope chirped and took a step in from the doorway. “I saw this in the pet store window and needed to get it for my little kitty godson.”

“Awh, thank you. I’m sure he’ll love it.” You smiled gratefully.

“Where is he? I wanna see his reaction.” She started jingling the cute little squid toy and entering the apartment.

“Hey..” You tried to stop her, but it was too late.

It was complete silence other than the final jingle of the toy as it hit the floor. Penelope was slack jawed and staring directly at Spencer, who was trying to cover as much as he could with the throw blanket as he awkwardly sat up on the couch.

“What? How? What?” She was stuttering. You knew it was bad when you left Penelope speechless. You walked over to stand between the two of them.

“Now’s not a great time.”

“I can see that” Her expression went from shock to a twisted smile as she looked from you to him and from him to you.

“Please don’t say anything.” Spencer finally spoke, blushing like a schoolgirl.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

She excused herself, but before she left your cat walked up to the toy and began playing with it, breaking the awkwardness. You chuckled at the sight.

“I’m so glad you like it!” She said to him, trying to ignore the sight of the essentially naked Dr. Reid on your couch.

“We’ll have to schedule a playdate with Sergio again. He misses his buddy.” You said as you ushered her out.

When the door closed, you sat against it, defeated.

“What the fuck?” You laughed and looked towards Spencer who smiled, laughing along.

[slushi-chan]

Reblog if you've found friendship because of your fandoms.

[slushi-chan]

can you please write reader riding spencer and hes whimpering and whining.. maybe even starts crying bc it feels too good

an; you don’t even wanna know how long ago this request was… love you my angel! Thank you for requesting anyway <333

wc; around 2k

cw; slight sub!spence, crying, spencer cums early, embarrassment, they’re so so in love, munch!spence, no mention of protection but established relationship they know what they’re doing!

Spencer's fingers were so soft.

They pressed against your back. You watched his hand move, the way it trailed over the ridges of your spine. Spencer didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, and you clicked on rather fast that he was nervous. You turned around to look at him, and saw the way his eyes widened, the way his breath hitched as you took in the sight of him.

You reached out a hand and brushed it through his hair, watching the way he shivered as you did. “Spencer,” you murmured. “Tell me what you need.”

He whimpered softly at that, and you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I can stop if that’s what you want,” you said. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Spencer mumbled, and you felt a smile spread across your face.

“Okay,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again.

He hummed softly into your lips, and you reached down to wrap your arms around him. He held you tightly, pulling you closer as he kissed you more desperately. You felt his hands moving down your back again, his fingers slipping between the fabric of your panties and your skin.

Spencer groaned softly against your lips as you pressed yourself closer to him, feeling the way your thighs slid against his skin, his hands dropping as his breath came in soft gasps. He stumbled back, reaching for the wall to steady himself, and then let out a soft huff of laughter as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I just... I’m getting distracted.”

You smiled as you moved closer to him again. “It’s okay,” you said, leaning in to place another kiss on his cheek, this time lower, at the corner of his mouth. “Do you want to keep going, or do you want to try again later?”

Spencer opened his eyes, and you watched the way they darkened as his pupils expanded. You felt another wave of arousal creep up your spine and swallowed hard as he leaned in to kiss you again.

He started to speak again, but you cut him off with another kiss, your lips pressing against his. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the way his hand moved to cup your hip.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured between kisses. “I didn’t realize you were that turned on.”

You whimpered at that. “I want you,” you whispered. “I want to ride you.”

“Okay, yeah,” Spencer breathed out. “Oh my god, yeah.”

His eyes were dark, his mouth open as he pulled you close. You watched him fumble with the belt of his pants, the button popping free as he tried to yank them down. You reached out, wrapping your hand around his and guiding it back to his crotch. His cock was already leaking, and you smiled as you felt his length pressing into your palm.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, sliding your hand up and down his length. “You’re so hard.”

He groaned at that, his hips moving instinctually as he pushed into your hand. You wrapped your fingers around his length and stroked him slowly, watching the way his face contorted.

“Baby” he moaned. “Fuck.”

He reached out, pulling you into a kiss, opening your mouth to let his tongue slide in. He broke the kiss to speak, but you swallowed the words with another press of your lips against his.

“Can I-“ He began, but you hushed him.

You reached down, your fingers trailing over his skin, until you found his length again. You slid your hand up him, feeling the slickness of his precum on your fingertips. His head fell back as you stroked him, his chest heaving as he let out a low groan.

“Please,” he begged. “Please, please, please-“

You moved in closer, reaching up to wrap your hands around his shoulders. You slid a leg around his hips, feeling the way he trembled as you pulled him close. His cock nudged at your entrance, and you whimpered softly as you pressed down, feeling him slowly slide inside you.

“Ohh,” Spencer moaned. He was still trembling, and you could hear his soft whimpers as you sunk down onto him. You were so wet, so turned on, and it felt so good to have him filling you up.

He looked so sweet, his eyes wide and his mouth slack. You leaned in again, capturing his mouth with your lips. You heard the way he whimpered softly, the way he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. His hips moved under you, and you moaned into the kiss as you rode him.

“Oh my god,” Spencer murmured against your lips. “You feel so good.”

He was whispering it into kisses, his tongue sliding against yours as his hips moved. He felt so good inside you, his cock filling you up until you could barely take anymore. You moved slowly, your hips rolling on his cock, and Spencer moaned into another kiss.

“Spencer,” you murmured against his lips. You feel him sigh against your mouth, his head falling back as he looks up at you with dark eyes.

“You feel so good,” he repeated, it was soft at first, a little noise that Spencer seemed to try to suppress. His breath was coming in short gasps, and you leaned forward to press your lips against his again. When he didn’t kiss back, you pulled away to look at him. Spencer’s eyes were closed, and his lips were parted as he breathed out soft moans. His head was tilted back, his cheek wet.

You pulled away further, and realized that his cheeks were tear-stained. His eyes fluttered open as you looked at him, and you saw the tears shining in their depths.

“Spencer,” you whispered. You reached up to brush a thumb over his cheek, wiping away a tear. “Are you okay?”

He whimpered softly in response, his chest heaving as his hips moved under you. You watched the way his head fell forward, his mouth finding your lips again. He moaned against your mouth, a low whine that made you feel like you were going to fall apart.

“Spencer,” you breathed. You slid your fingers up into his hair, holding his head to yours as he kissed you again. “Are you crying?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled. “It feels good.” His head fell back, his eyes closing as he let out another whimper. “It feels too good.”

You smiled softly as you leaned in to press kisses to his cheeks, following the trail of his tears. “Oh, Spence,” you whispered. “It’s okay to cry.”

He shook his head, but then he leaned forward to kiss you again anyway. His body was shaking against you, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

“Shh,” you murmured. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

His hips moved, his cock still filling you up. He was trembling again, and you felt him twitching inside of you. You moved slowly on top of him, your thighs squeezing his hips as you rode him. His hands moved over your skin, reaching up to cup your breasts.

His eyes shut tight as he threw his head back. You leaned forward, sliding your lips over his cheek until you reached his ear. You felt the way he shuddered at your touch, and you hummed softly, kissing along the curve of his neck.

“Spencer,” you murmured into his ear. “You’re so good. You feel amazing.”

He let out another whine, and you heard him whimper your name. His hips bucked under you, his cock twitching deep inside you, and then his whole body seized.

His mouth fell open, and he let out a soft whine.

“Gonna cum!” He cried out. “W-wait!”

You felt him twitching inside you again, and you squeezed your thighs around his hips as he let out another soft cry.

You leaned down to kiss him, but before you could he turned his face away. “No,” he muttered.

He pressed his face into your shoulder, his whole body shaking as he held onto you. You could feel him, warm inside you, the way his cum dripped between your thighs. You let out a soft moan as your inner muscles spasmed, and you felt yourself squeezing around his softening cock.

You heard him sniffle, and felt his arms wrap around you again. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

You pulled back to look at him, confused. “Spencer, what’s wrong?”

“I didn’t last long,” he said, and his voice sounded thick. You saw his eyes were shining again, another tear dripping down his cheek. “Sorry.”

You felt a soft smile cross your lips. “That was really hot,” you murmured.

You slid your fingers over his cheek again, wiping away his tear. You pulled back, sitting up again as you reached down to lift yourself off him. You heard him moan softly as you did, and you looked down to see him still wet from you.

You reached up, running a thumb over his bottom lip, and he pressed a soft kiss onto it.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. You leaned down to kiss his cheek, and then slid your lips across his jawline until you reached the curve of his neck. He whimpered softly again at that, his head tilting back as you kissed him.

His hands were still on your body, and you felt them moving again as you kissed his throat. You moved back up to press another soft kiss to his lips, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close again.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I felt so good, and then I just...”

“Shh,” you hushed. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the way he shuddered against you. “You don’t have to explain.”

His breath hitched again, and you heard him let out another soft whine. He leaned forward, kissing you again, and you held him close.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice still thick with emotion.

You smiled, reaching up to wipe his tears away again. “I love you too.”

His head fell back again, and you pressed kisses to his cheeks until you reached his lips again. His whole body was trembling, his eyes dark as he met your gaze.

He leaned into your kiss again, his lips moving softly on yours. You held him close, your fingers moving through his hair, until finally he relaxed.

“I want to make it up to you,” he whispered finally, pulling back from your lips.

He blushed, and you smiled at him again. “What did you have in mind?” You asked.

He smiled back at you, a soft blush dusting over the apples of his cheeks. “I could go down on you,” he murmured. “Or I could do whatever you need. Whatever makes it up to you.”

You leaned forward to press another kiss to his lips. “You don’t need to make it up,” you said.

His eyes were wide, his lips parting again. He leaned in for another kiss, and you let him pull you close, his hand cradling your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer murmured again. “I just really want to make you feel good.”

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair again, guiding his face back to yours for a soft kiss. “Spencer,” You murmured. “You made me feel good already.” His face lit up at that, his eyes brightening until you saw tears again. You leaned forward to wipe them away, and then captured his lips with yours again.

He was sweet, leaning into your kisses and smiling against your mouth as he pulled you closer. He was warm, and his body felt good against yours.

“Do you want to?” You asked. “Go down on me?”

He nodded eagerly, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay,” you said. “If you want.”

You saw the excitement in his eyes, the way he leaned in to kiss you as you lifted off him. He helped guide you down, laying you back onto the couch cushions as he dropped to his knees. His fingers trailed up your thigh as he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire.

You saw him swallow thickly as he looked between your thighs, his hands moving to your knees. You spread your legs, opening yourself up for him, and watched him lean in. His breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your whole body tense.

His tongue was soft as it slid over your skin, parting your folds as he searched out your clit. He moaned as he tasted you, the sound vibrating against your skin and making your breath catch. His tongue flicked over your clit, and you arched up against his mouth.

“Spencer,” you moaned.

He made another soft sound, the noise buzzing against your clit as he licked you again. He wrapped his arms around your thighs as he moved, holding your legs apart and opening you up to him.

He let out another soft moan, his tongue moving over your skin in slow, broad strokes. He licked you again, finding your clit and sliding his tongue around it. You felt your hips jerk at that, and heard Spencer’s soft whimper as you did.

He licked you slowly, his tongue swirling in circles as he focused on your clit. You heard his soft whines as he worked you, felt the way his tongue vibrated against your skin as he moaned.

“Spence,” You breathed. You reached down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “That feels so good.”

You saw his eyes flash up to meet yours, saw the way his pupils were blown wide. His lips moved in a soft smile, and he licked you again.

He picked up his pace, his tongue dragging over your clit again and again. You felt yourself clenching, the heat building in your stomach as you rocked against him.

“Spencer,” You moaned.

You felt your thighs trembling, the way your whole body tensed as he licked you. He hummed against you, the vibration of the sound making your whole body feel like it was going to come apart.

“Ohh,” You whimpered. “Doing so well f’me.”

You heard his soft whine again, and felt his tongue drag over your clit one last time, your whole body seizing as you arched back against him, the sensitivity making you cry out.

You felt his mouth still moving over you, the way he guided you through your orgasm. You heard him making soft noises, and your whole body felt like it was trembling. He continued to suckle softly until you pushed his head away, his breath coming in soft gasps.

“Oh, Spence,” You murmured.

He was blushing, his cheeks pink. He looked down at the way your thighs were trembling, at the way you still clenched on emptiness. He pressed another soft kiss to your thigh, and then looked up at you again.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You smiled down at him. “Yeah,” you said. “I’m great.”

He beamed, and you reached down to brush your hand through his hair again.

“Thanks,” you said, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead. “That felt amazing.”

Spencer blushed again, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. “Can I ask for something?” He murmured against your mouth.

You nodded, and Spencer spoke again.

“Can you clean my face off?” He whispered. “I um. I got a little messy.”

You laughed, and reached up to wipe the mix of saliva and cum off his face.

You kissed him slowly, holding him close until your heart rates slowed. You felt his soft smile against your mouth, and the way he relaxed against you again.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close and holding him against your chest.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Are you staying the night?”

Spencer nodded. “If that’s okay with you,” he murmured.

“Of course it’s okay,” you said.

He nuzzled into you, his face still flushed. You heard him let out a soft sigh, and then felt him relax even more against you. His breathing slowed, and you listened as he fell asleep in your arms.

You smiled as you held him close. You leaned back against the couch, letting yourself relax until sleep took you too.

[slushi-chan]

✧*̥˚ spencer reid fic recs part 5 *̥˚✧

gif from @hqtchner

a/n: *heavy sigh* another month, another fic rec list! yes, i am insane, you know the drill.

i had to split this into three posts, fluff , smut, and angst/hurt/comfort becasue there were so many 😭😭

✨ favourites

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I my criminal minds masterlist

✧*̥˚ angst/hurt/comfort *̥˚✧

french perfume by @awordsmith

beneath his gaze by @imreidswifey

lights, lyrics and love by -//-

in my dream, i'm fixing your crutch by @notlongtolove

to be an accountant of the heart by -//- ✨

like a lover by -//-

free now by @g4rvez-r3id

his favourite doctor by @dearlenore

you can let it go by @reidrum

date by @gf2bellamy

enough by -//-

exhaustion by -//-

home with you by @i-get-obsessed-fast

all those dreams where you’re my wife by @anhedoniawrites

messy by @mariont

pulse point by -//-

look after you by @stardust-thief

migraine by @vanteguccir

more of you to worship by @esot-erika

if you want your work removed, dm me!

[slushi-chan]

✧*̥˚ spencer reid fic recs part 5 *̥˚✧

gif from @hqtchner

a/n: *heavy sigh* another month, another fic rec list! yes, i am insane, you know the drill.

i had to split this into three posts, fluff , smut, and angst/hurt/comfort becasue there were so many 😭😭

✨ favourites

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I my criminal minds masterlist

✧*̥˚ fluff*̥˚✧

admirer by @gf2bellamy

convention by -//-

sleep by -//-

headscratches by -//-

boyfriend!spencer hcs by @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat

cats out of the bag by @laufeysvalentine

missing kiss by @spidercatweb

moments of glad grace by @miedei

bed chem by @dearlenore

cosmic love by @cherrygarcia-07

readers back by @siriuslylantsov

shut-eye by -//-

drunken confessions by -//-

thirty-six hours by @reiding-writing

theoretical knowledge vs. practical application by @eternlmoonshine

r.e.m. by @gold-onthe-inside

it's so sweet by @l0vergirlwrites

in infinite universes by @nereidprinc3ss

golden hour by @patchs-curiosity-corner

the scent of her by @casedclosedbye

ton 618 by @vatelixx

your star next to mine by @notlongtolove

spence headcannons by @jsmainblog

sfw alphabet by -//-

lovely love letters by @amorre1989

wedding night by @spxfav

if you want your work removed, dm me!

[slushi-chan]

Hiiii! I love your fics! How does your brain work is one mystery! I have a request - you know how in 1.17 A Real Rain where they had a case in NYC and Reid says his he has never been there and how in the ep he doesn't know how to use chopsticks, I was think a sunshine!bau!reader x spencer!reid where she gives him a tour around the city and teachers him how to use chopsticks. They can have an established relationship or friends in love or anything, up to you! Thank you Anna love you lotsss!!!

tour — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship , they eat lots of food , its honestly just pure fluff a/n: i had so much fun writing this but pls keep in mind that i've never been to new york so if i got something wrong i'm vv sorry ! <3

“Okay, time to start the tour!” you announced, clapping your hands together as you and Spencer stepped out of the hotel lobby and into the crisp morning air of New York City.

Spencer adjusted the strap of his messenger bag, his eyes wide as he took in the towering skyline. You couldn’t help but grin at the way his head tilted back slightly.

 God, he’s adorable. 

“You’ve really never been to New York before?” you asked, nudging his shoulder with yours. 

He blinked, shaking his head. “I’ve read about it. Does that count?” 

“Absolutely not,” you declared, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers through his. “Reading about New York and experiencing New York are two entirely different things. And lucky for you, you’ve got the best tour guide in the city.” 

Spencer smiled down at you, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Where are we starting?” 

You squeezed his hand and tugged him forward, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. “With the classics,” you said, your voice bubbling with excitement. 

Spencer let you lead, his long legs easily keeping pace with your eager strides. He watched the way your eyes lit up as you pointed out little details—the faded graffiti on a brick wall, the smell of fresh pretzels from a street vendor. 

“First stop,” you announced, stopping in front of a small, unassuming bagel shop tucked between a deli and a thrift store. The scent of freshly baked dough and roasted coffee beans spilled out onto the sidewalk, and Spencer inhaled deeply, his stomach giving a quiet growl. 

“We’re starting with a classic New York bagel,” you said, grinning up at him. “And—” you leaned in conspiratorially, “—they have amazing coffee. Trust me.” 

Spencer’s lips quirked. “I do trust you,” he said softly. “But statistically, New Yorkers overestimate the quality of their coffee by at least—” 

You pressed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. “Hush, Dr. Reid. Just let me prove you wrong.” 

He laughed, the sound warm, and you felt your chest swell with affection. 

Inside, the shop was cozy and crowded. You ordered for both of you—an everything bagel with scallion cream cheese for him, a cinnamon raisin with honey walnut for yourself—and two large coffees.

“You remembered how I take my coffee,” he noted, accepting the cup from you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Spencer, I’ve seen you drink approximately three hundred cups of coffee in the time I’ve known you. It’s not exactly a hard pattern to recognize.” 

He smirked. “Fair point.” 

You found a tiny table by the window, your knees bumping against his under the cramped space. Spencer took a careful bite of his bagel, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. 

“Okay,” he admitted after swallowing. “This is significantly better than airport bagels.” 

You grinned triumphantly. “Told you.” 

He took another bite, humming in approval. “The texture is perfect—chewy but not dense, with just the right amount of—” 

You reached over, swiping a dollop of cream cheese from the corner of his mouth with your thumb before he could finish his analysis. Spencer froze, his cheeks flushing slightly. 

“You had a little something,” you teased. 

He cleared his throat. “Right. Thanks.” 

You sipped your latte, watching him over the rim of your cup. “So,” you said, tapping your fingers against the table. “After this, I thought we would check out a bookstore, its right around the corner and its perfect for you trust me.” as you smiled at him.  

The moment you mentioned a bookstore, Spencer's entire demeanor shifted. His hazel eyes lit up, and he practically inhaled the last bite of his bagel in his haste.

You couldn't help but giggle at the way he nearly choked in his enthusiasm, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk as he tried to chew and declare "I'm ready!" simultaneously. 

"Easy there, speed reader," you laughed, standing and offering your hand. He took it eagerly, his long fingers wrapping around yours.

The walk to the bookstore was challenging.

Spencer kept surging ahead like an overeager puppy, his natural long strides carrying him three steps forward before you'd have to gently tug him back toward the correct crosswalk or sidewalk. 

"You're worse than a kid on Christmas morning," you teased as you finally reached the store with its hand-painted sign.

Then Spencer saw the shelves. 

His mouth fell open in pure wonder, his grip slackening in yours as he took in the towering bookcases that seemed to go on forever, the stacks of novels teetering on every available surface.

You didn't need to look at him to know what he was thinking - you could feel the excited energy radiating off him.

"Go on," you murmured, squeezing his hand once before releasing it. 

Spencer didn't need telling twice. He pressed a quick, grateful kiss to your cheek that left your skin tingling, then disappeared into the literary maze.

You wandered through the bookstore, trailing your fingers along spines.

Nearly 30 minutes later, you turned a corner to find Spencer balancing a stack of books in his arms, his hair slightly mussed from running his hands through it in excitement. The sight made your heart squeeze affectionately. 

"They have the most amazing first editions," he breathed, his voice hushed. His hazel eyes practically glowed in the dim light. "This 1937 printing of 'The Hobbit' has the original color plates, and this copy of 'Frankenstein' is from 1823, and-" 

His words tumbled out in an excited rush, hands carefully shifting to show you each treasure. You watched, utterly enchanted, as he explained the significance of each book.

"Should I ask how much all these are going to cost us?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. 

Spencer's excited ramble stuttered to a halt. He blinked down at his armful of books, then back at you, suddenly looking adorably guilty. "...I might have gotten carried away." 

You reached up to smooth a wayward curl behind his ear, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. "Good thing I love seeing you happy," you murmured. 

The soft, grateful smile he gave you was worth every penny those first editions would cost. 

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as you emerged from the bookstore, Spencer practically glowing with happiness, his arms full with three bulging bags.

 "Time for one of NYC's most famous places," you announced, slipping your hand around his bicep since his fingers were too occupied with book bags to hold yours. You'd offered to swing by the hotel first to drop off his purchases, but he'd refused - as if parting with his new books for even a moment might make them disappear. 

 Spencer tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Yes?" 

You grinned, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Times Square. The crossroads of the world." 

His face immediately lit up with recognition, and before you could take another step, he launched into an animated explanation: "Did you know Times Square was originally called Longacre Square until 1904 when the New York Times moved their headquarters there? And the first electrified advertisement appeared in—" 

You listened with fond amusement as his words tumbled out in that rapid-fire way they did when he was excited.

As you rounded the corner, Spencer's lecture cut off abruptly. His steps faltered as the full sensory overload of Times Square hit him - the neon lights, the towering digital billboards flashing advertisements and Broadway snippets. His eyes darted from one spectacle to another, his mind clearly working overtime to process it all. 

"Look at that," he murmured, nodding to a massive screen displaying a clip from a Broadway musical. "That staging technique is fascinating." 

"We can go see it if you want," you offered, already mentally calculating how to get tickets. 

But Spencer was already distracted by something new, his head tilting back to take in a skyscraper's animated LED facade. You let him absorb the moment, content to watch his wonderment. 

Then you spotted it - the iconic "I Love New York" store. 

"Oh my god," you gasped, tightening your grip on his arm. "We're buying you a mug." 

Spencer opened his mouth, likely to protest that he didn't need more souvenirs, but you were already steering him through the crowded sidewalk and into the store before he could form a coherent argument. 

The shop was a riot of red and white merchandise - t-shirts, keychains, snow globes, and of course, rows upon rows of mugs. You beelined for the display, immediately grabbing one with the classic logo in bold black letters. 

 "You need this," you declared, holding it up for his inspection. "Every genius needs a good coffee mug for all those late-night reading sessions." 

Spencer's protest died on his lips as he saw your enthusiastic expression. He sighed in mock resignation, but the way his eyes crinkled at the corners betrayed his amusement. "I suppose it would be terrible to visit New York and not get at least one cliché souvenir." 

You stood on your toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "That's the spirit. Now help me find the cheesiest one they have - I think I saw a glitter version back there." 

As Spencer laughed and allowed himself to be pulled deeper into the store.

Once you bought multiple mugs , you wandered down quieter streets, your energy finally waning after hours of exploration. You leaned your cheek against Spencer's arm with a dramatic sigh.

"I'm hungry," you admitted, the words muffled slightly against his sleeve. 

Spencer looked down at you. The bags of books swung gently from his other hand as he adjusted his stance to better support your weight. "I'm sure you already have a place in mind," he said.

You pulled back just enough to grin up at him. "You know me so well." 

Without hesitation, you guided him toward a cozy little restaurant tucked between two taller buildings. The delicious aroma of soy sauce and ginger wafted through the open door. 

"We," you announced as you stepped inside, "are teaching you how to use chopsticks." 

Spencer opened his mouth—probably to protest that he could learn just fine from a book—but the hostess was already leading you to a corner table draped in soft yellow light.

Soon enough, you found yourself unable to contain your laughter as Spencer attempted to maneuver the chopsticks. His brow furrowed in intense concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. The chopsticks slipped again, sending the food tumbling back onto his plate with a quiet plop. 

"You're enjoying this too much," he accused, though there was no real annoyance in his voice as he caught your poorly-hidden grin. "I thought you were going to help me," he added when the chopsticks clattered into the bowl of miso soup for the third time. 

"Sorry, sorry," you giggled, finally pushing back your chair, as you moved to sit beside him on the padded bench, your thigh pressing warmly against his. 

You reached over to rearrange his fingers, your skin brushing against his in a way that made his stomach flutter. "Like this," you murmured, guiding his grip with gentle pressure. "Thumb here, middle finger there... and you have to hold the bottom one completely still." 

Spencer's hands were warm beneath yours, his long fingers trembling slightly as he tried to follow your instructions. You could see the exact moment when it clicked for him—his eyes lighting up.

"Ah," he breathed as he successfully lifted a piece of cucumber roll. The triumph in his voice was utterly endearing. "It's all about the fulcrum point." 

You rested your chin in your hand, unable to wipe the smile from your face as you watched him carefully—proudly—eat his first successful bite.

"See?" you said softly. "I knew you could do it." 

Spencer bumped his knee against yours under the table, a silent thank you that spoke volumes. Then, he used his newly-acquired skill to place a piece of salmon directly onto your plate.

Two hours later, you collapsed onto the hotel bed with a groan as you threw an arm across your face. 

"I can't feel my feet," you mumbled into the crook of your elbow. 

Spencer carefully set down his precious book bags—their contents now safely deposited on the dresser—before joining you on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, causing you to slide toward him until your head naturally found its place in his lap. His fingers immediately carding through your hair.

"Me neither, to be honest," Spencer admitted with a quiet chuckle, his free hand already pulling out the first book from his bag.

You closed your eyes, letting the motion of Spencer's fingers in your hair lull you into relaxation.

"I got us tickets for that Broadway show you saw on the billboard," you murmured into the quiet. 

The pages stopped mid-turn. 

"What? How? When?" Spencer's voice held equal parts surprise and delight, his fingers pausing their movements in your hair. 

You cracked one eye open to see him looking down at you, his hazel eyes wide.

"When you were staring at that one picture in the Met Museum for like fifteen minutes," you said, a smug smile tugging at your lips. "The one with the fruit basket that you insisted had 'hidden symbolism.'" 

Spencer's mouth opened and closed several times before he managed, "That was Caravaggio's 'Basket of Fruit,' and the decaying—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "Wait, no, that's not the point. You really got tickets?" 

You reached up to boop his nose, enjoying the way it scrunched in response. "Front row center. Tonight at eight." 

For a moment, Spencer just stared at you, his expression softening into something unbearably fond. Then, without warning, he bent down and kissed your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. 

"You," he murmured against your hairline, "are incredible." 

You hummed contentedly, closing your eyes again as he returned to his book, though you could feel his fingers trembling slightly with excitement in your hair.

The Broadway show had been spectacular—more than you'd dreamed. His hand unconsciously reaching for yours in the dark when the romantic duet began. You'd laced your fingers together without thinking, his palm warm against yours.

Afterwards, you wandered back towards the hotel, ice cream cones dripping down your fingers while swinging bags of freshly baked cookies and still-warm donuts between you. Spencer kept bumping your shoulder every few steps—partly to avoid the jostling crowds, mostly because he wanted to be close to you. 

Back at the hotel room, you changed quickly—you into Spencer's favorite sweater (the one that swallowed you whole, the cuffs falling past your fingertips), him into worn cotton pajama pants that made him look unfairly cozy.

You settled onto the bed, tucking your legs beneath you, while Spencer leaned against the headboard, already halfway through a donut.

"This is perfect," he murmured around a mouthful, his voice thick with sugar and something soft. You nodded, your own cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk's with chocolate chip cookies.

"I hope you liked my tour," you finally managed after swallowing, grinning at him.

Spencer set his donut down —a telltale sign he was about to say something heartfelt. He reached forward, his fingers brushing a crumb from your cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a second too long. 

"I loved it." His thumb traced the curve of your ear absentmindedly. "Thank you." 

Then, quieter, his gaze dropping to where your fingers twisted in the sheets: "Do you think we can spend another day here?" Before you could answer, he rushed to add, "I'd like to go back to that bookstore," his ears flushing that adorable pink you loved. 

You tilted your head, unable to resist teasing. "Were the thirteen books you bought not enough?" 

Spencer hesitated, his nose scrunching in that way that made your stomach flip. "No?" he said, the word lifting at the end like a question, and you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.

"Of course we can stay," you grinned, nudging the cookie box aside before gently bumping your knee against his. His smile was worth every changed travel plan in the world. 

"Besides," you added, peeking up at him through your lashes, "I saw how you looked at that first edition Poe. We're not leaving until it's yours." 

Spencer's smile could have powered Times Square. 

[slushi-chan]

✧*̥˚ spencer reid fic recs part 5 *̥˚✧

a/n: *heavy sigh* another month, another fic rec list! yes, i am insane, you know the drill.

i had to split this into three posts, fluff , smut, and angst/hurt/comfort becasue there were so many 😭😭

✨ favourites

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I my criminal minds masterlist

✧*̥˚ smut *̥˚✧

too much, pretty boy by @alsofoundinpeas

drip by drip by @burymagdalene

off the map by -//-

cavetous craving by -//- ✨

a closed mouth doesn't get fed by -//-

quarantine by @minswriting

pegging blurb by -//-

unknown territory by -//-

marked territory by -//-

edging blurb by -//-

more to love by @mggslover

edging sub spencer by -//-

dry humping with spencer by -//-

captured in time by @imreidswifey

hard bargain by @nereidprinc3ss

ice packs by @l0vergirlwrites

dry humping blurb by @miedei

like the way you fit by @esote-rika

masturbating blurb by @urcatslitterbox

unexpected surprise by @mytherapyisreading14

every first, yours by @mrsholmesreid

hardcover hearts by @missarchive

gentle sex by -//-

pegging by -//-

american jesus by -//-

tie me up by @0o-junebug-o0

nsfw alphabet by @jsmainblog

fall apart for you by @byebyeeeeeee

u up? by @brattyspence

take a picture, it'll last longer by -//-

crashing into him tonight (he’s a paradox) by @reidphobic

meddle about by @sundrop-writes

relief by @strawbeerossi

if you want your work removed, dm me

[slushi-chan]

Made this edit of Severen a couple of months!! I really need to rewatch Near Dark GOD i love that film.

[slushi-chan]

maybe why severen is the only one in the clan who doesn’t have a mate / doesn’t pursue turning a mate is because he HAD a mate but she burned. eternally grieving severen headcanon.