#I love the loose little curls on Spencer's head

[tobias-hankel]

This is where a pimp works?

Criminal Minds: The Caller, 09x10

[reidrum]

I can't stop thinking munch!spencer x reader who's insecure about having thick thighs (it's me, I'm reader)

take a seat | s.r

hi thank u for requesting!! i tried to be ambiguous about reader’s size but if it doesn’t come across that way lemme know and ill fix it!!!

wc: 1.7k

cw: 18+ smut minors dni, afab reader, face sitting, munch!spencer my beloved, insecure!reader who i took to be a little self indulgent sorry, fluff, hurt comfort but no hurt lol

this is also not proofread sorry

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the thing about spencer is if you have any fear or qualm about anything, his main verbal form of comfort is information. and it’s not a bad thing, not at all. finding comfort in the facts is what spencer hopes to achieve when he spews his tidbits. it’s just, sometimes it’ll do more harm than good, or even worse, do nothing at all.

that’s where you’re at right now, sitting in spencer’s room with your legs tucked under you while he sits up at the head of the bed. the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, tie strewn somewhere in the room. you’re still fully clothed albeit in a loose t shirt and some panties. the want in his eyes is undeniable, his question still lingering in the air.

you weren’t exactly the most confident person, but was anyone really? did people really wake up in the morning, look at themselves in the mirror and say, ‘wow, i look beautiful today.”? tell themselves they’re going to have a good day because they said so?

so when you’d spent your whole life living in the shadows trying to blend in and just do your job, one day an ever observant spencer reid saw you struggling to carry your coffee and your bag into the bullpen and came to your rescue before it could spill all over you. you were a mumbling mess, uttering thank you’s and i’m so sorrys and i’ll be more careful next time. but his gaze on you was unwavering, even in the face of your uneasiness, and firmly but softly told you nothing was wrong, and suggested that maybe you and him should get coffee before work to avoid this rush next time.

falling in love with him was too easy after that.

spencer never failed to make you feel cherished, loved, safe, always going above and beyond to care for your needs and wants. the trust you had in him was immense and you knew he would never steer you astray.

so sitting in front of him on his bed while he adorns a small smirk asking, no telling, you to sit on his face, made you falter a bit.

“you want me, to sit on your face?”

he nods, “yeah.”

any thought you’ve ever had vanishes from your brain, “b—but, won’t it be uncomfortable? for you?”

“not at all.”

seeing spencer be surprisingly calm about this is having the opposite effect on you, creating the unsettlement in your gut. like he’s been thinking about this for while, has wanted you at his mercy in a way you haven’t experienced before, has thought through all the facts and possibilities and ruled with absolute certainty that this was what he wanted, needed. and right now your body is betraying your mind as the heat pools between your legs.

but that brain of yours, a blessing with its vast knowledge but a curse at how easily a single thought can send you into a deep spiral, is working overtime to convince you that this isn’t really what he wants.

he can see the cogs working overtime and scoots closer to you and places a comforting hand on your thigh to rub soothing shapes with his thumb, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“nothing i-“ you stop before you can get too deep.

his eyes look at you expectantly, luring you to continue.

“what if i hurt you?”

“that is literally impossible.”

“what if i suffocate you?”

“then that would be a great way to go out.” he chuckles.

you lightly slap his leg, “stop that.”

he gestures you closer to sit curled into his side, a comforting arm smoothing you up and down. “if you really don’t want to do it that’s okay i don’t want to push you, just want you to feel good s’all.”

you ponder for a minute, “…you would tell me if it’s too much right?”

“i would,” he nods, “but i won’t need to.”

he squeezes your hand in reassurance, and you remember that spencer reid would never lie to you.

which is why you say, “okay.”

his eyes light up like a carnival, “yeah?”

you take a deep breath, “yeah.”

“come here,” cupping your cheek to bring in and kiss you.

it starts off slow, deliberate. like he wants you to know how much he appreciates you placing your trust in his possession, and how gently and carefully he’s going to take care of it.

you hike a leg over his lap to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his lips mark you like a road map. he moves down your jaw and uses his nose to nudge your neck away, giving him better access to litter the skin with love bites.

the moans spilling from your mouth spur him on, he starts subconsciously bucking his hips up causing you to grow restless for more.

he senses this and motions for you to lift up on your knees above him so he can slide his body down flat between your legs. the warm palms of his hands rest where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.

you look down at the sight of him laid out for you, and catch his shit eating grin staring back. the dichotomy this position gives you with a sense of power to be over him like this but the vulnerability at feeling so exposed caused a swirl of emotions for you.

“hey,” he squeezes his palms laid on your ass, “if this is a lot, that’s okay.”

“no, no.i think i want this. i’m just scared.” you softly admit.

“nothing to be scared of, angel. it’s not like i haven’t eaten you out before, it’s just a different position,” his hands move closer to your core, “let me make you feel good, please.”

you stare into his eyes once more, being met with nothing but trust and lust for you. with a deep breath, you nod your head.

he smirks again, “alright sweetheart, take a seat.”

you slowly inch your body up his own, hearing him outwardly groan as your cunt came into his line of sight.

“jesus fuck, you have the prettiest pussy.”

you preen at his words once you’ve reached the position, and you hover in hesitation. he wraps his arms under and around your legs and gently pulls you down.

and he attacks you like a man starved. his tongue licking a full stripe up your cunt, letting it swirl around your clit. the feeling is so intense in this position you have to lean forward and brace yourself on the headboard.

with a gasp you whine out his name, “oh my god, fuck.” he continues to use his tongue to barrel you towards your peak, knowing exactly where to touch and lick to rile you up.

he can tell you’re still holding back, feeling the tense muscles in your upper thighs harden under his touch. with a sharp tug he pulls you to be seated fully on his face, and he lets out a deep groan that vibrates through your whole body.

you’re fully at his mercy now, held down by his large hands and his mouth working so hard to make you see stars. the pleasure is overtaking all of your senses, when you look down to meet his eyes they’re staring right back at you, reveling in your ecstasy. a languished moan leaves you as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.

he laps up your arousal with urgency, tongue moving in such a delicate and intricate way you would think he’s writing a love letter with it.

the coil in your gut starts to tighten and you can feel your peak coming fast, “spence…” you whine.

he hums in response, silently acknowledging what you mean. one more slow lick up and down your slit was all it took to push you overboard. the endorphins rush over you like a tsunami as you try to ride out the wave of your orgasm.

spencer doesn’t stop his motions and continues to work your overly sensitive clit, gripping your legs tighter to him as he prevents you from escaping.

“shit, oh god baby, you need to st—stop.” you brokenly moan out. you tug on his hair hard as you try to release his grip on you, and after a few minutes he takes pity and lets you go.

you let out a big and tired sigh as you flop to the side of him, one leg still draped over him as you’re both panting heavily, attempting to come down from the heat of the moment.

he smoothes out the leg over him with his hand and turns to face you, face plastered with a stupid grin and glistening with you.

“see? that wasn’t so bad.”

you scoff breathlessly, “i think maybe you’re trying to kill me.”

“maybe,” he laughs, “ but you liked it right?”

you nod bashfully, “did you…like it?”

his eyes widen, “are you kidding? you looked so hot it drove me insane. you’re always so beautiful but having you like that…i like making you feel good, it makes me feel really good, and that is a win-win.”

you smile at him and move closer to fit under his arm and into his side, your hand resting on his chest. he tightens his arm around you and whisper, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you say through hooded eyes. your hand starts trailing lower, “must have been really good for you seeing how painful this looks.” you softly say, gesturing to the aching bulge in his boxers, the dark patch stained by precum.

his breath hitches as you inch closer, “baby, no it’s okay. you don’t have to do th—“ the sentence gets cut off when your hand gives him a tentative squeeze.

“i don’t have to, but i want to. i should thank you somehow for making me feel so good,” your voice dropping an octave in lust, “will you let me show my thanks, honey?”

you stare at him with the sultriest doe eyes he’s ever seen, and he’s thoroughly convinced in that moment that you are, in fact, trying to kill him.

still a great way to go out, he thinks.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

a little comfort fuck with Spencer Reid after he's back from prison, questioning if you still deserve him after everything that happened. (i love this man a completely normal amount i swear)

LOVE it!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SAFE AND SOUND.

spencer reid x fem!reader — smut

word count. 615

warnings. 18+ pinv, cowgirl on the couch, cute comfort stuff. minors dni

You found it difficult to process everything during those months of Spencer's absence, everything almost crumbling around you while your boyfriend sat in a cell for a crime he didn't commit. Every thought went to him, every ounce of energy went to him, every resource went to him, but it wasn't enough. The endless sessions in front of lawyers and his teammates felt almost pointless.

You didn't want to lose hope, especially for someone you love, someone innocent, but it was hard. You and his team struggled, and you couldn't imagine how Spencer was coping with it all - with all the changes.

But then, the day of his release finally rolled around. 

He had been back for almost two hours now: all fresh, clean and showered, tummy full with a hearty homemade meal. He wasn't himself, but as the minutes slowly passed, you began to see him settling back to being home, being safe. Tiny slithers of his old personality creeping back.

It wasn't long before you were rekindling the passion from before those few months, both of you on the couch - you sat atop him, straddling his lap. The full length of his cock, tucked snugly inside your pussy. 

Neither one of you barely moving, the grinding motion of your hips almost non-existent. It was as if your sole focus was to feel one another, to feel the skin of the other after all this time - the concept of cuming being a distant thought. 

His palms rest loosely on your waist, fingers skimming the hem of your baggy tee, the placement only there for your stability. His pretty hazels peered up at you from your slight height advantage, gaze keen as he looks over your features. 

You keep your hands on his face, palms over his cheeks, fingers grazing across his scalp as you hold his head carefully. You, too, kept your attention on your lover, watching those tiny microexpressions play across his face. 

It was as if you were both making sure that this was real, that you weren't imagining it like all those times when you were apart.

But then you notice his countenance change, eyes downcasting, his mere grip on your waist vanishing. The warm spot on your skin growing cold with his absence. 

"What's wrong?" you quietly ask, carefully tilting his face - making him look you in the eye.

He faintly shakes his head, the motion almost delicate. 

You could tell something was on his mind, something gnawing at his thoughts. With Spencer, when something good happened, he was often likely to question it - doubt if he even deserved it. And with him being home after all that time locked away, you knew those prior feelings would resurface, only worse this time around. All you could do was comfort him in the now, hoping that the little bits of love and care and affection you give him would bring him back sooner.

"Please let me be there for you," you murmur, gaze honing in on him. "Let me help."

He frowns softly —a sad smile— the corners of his lips tilting downwards as he brings his hands to the initial spot on your waist. His palms resting firmly over the slight indentation. "I will."

Your thumb glides over the apple of his cheek, pad lovingly swiping over him. "I'm happy you're home," you whisper between the close distance, tucking a messy, unkempt curl behind his ear. "I've missed you."

He presses a kiss to your lips, eyes darting over you. "I've missed you," he utters, voice soft.

You slowly wind over him, cunt dragging over his dick in no particular rhythm. "I'm glad you're back."

[avis-writeshq]

hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where reader gets drunk and needy for spencer 😭 but he denies (cuz yk shes drunk) and just takes care of him please? thank you!

off my face — spencer reid

summary: “i’m off my face in love with you.” in which reader gets drunk and spencer has to nurse her back to health. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: rated 16+ for allusions to smut, reader gets drunk, reader wears lipstick and a dress, mentions of throwing up [not in detail], spencer being sickeningly perfect, lots of pet names, inspired by that one video of matthew. you know which one i’m talking about. a/n: i er… got carried away because i love this trope 😔 i am in fact obsessed wc: 1.23k

It’s too loud. Granted, it’s a club; it’s supposed to be loud. Spencer cringes a little as the music somehow manages to get even louder and he sips at his coke. He has your purse in his lap and he’s also manning your drink like a guard dog; moving himself to the furthest seat in the booth that is away from the crowd. Your inevitable return is a lot sooner than he expected, and he watches with amusement as you slide into the booth and curl into his side, reaching for your drink. 

“Have fun?” Spencer asks with a soft laugh, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of you head. 

“Mm,” you hum in affirmation, eagerly sipping at the sugary concoction in front of you. “Would’ve been funner with you, baby.”

He laughs louder at that, rolling his eyes teasingly and squeezing at the flesh of your waist. “You know it wouldn’t have been.”

“Bet you’d be real sexy with all that sweat dripping off you,” you coo, your voice sickeningly sweet as your fingers move to toy with the buttons of his shirt. 

Your fingers are wet with the condensation from the chilled glass of your cocktail and they brush against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. A shudder runs down his spine at the contact, and his cheeks grow hot. His hand finds your wrist and he holds it firmly, but not enough to hurt. 

“Don’t,” he says, half jokingly half seriously as he moves his head to track your gaze. “How much have you had to drink, angel?”

You ignore the question, moving your fingers upward to brush against a blooming purple mark near his collar. A pout rests on your lips as you gesture to it, a frown forming on your face. “Who gave this to you?”

He bristles, moving the flap of his collar to cover the bruise. “You did. This morning.”

“Oh yeah!” The smile returns to your face awfully fast and a giggle bubbles up from your throat. “You love me.”

“I do,” he agrees, kissing your head again. 

Your expression is all too gleeful as you move your head just at the right time so that he lips would meet yours. He pulls away after a brief moment, about to say something else, when you effectively cut him off by pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. 

“Angel– sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” he says gently, prying your needy fingers away and holding them firmly in his hand. 

“Nuh uh,” you deny, leaning forward again and kissing his neck right where you left a mark earlier that morning. 

He jolts at the contact, pulling away as pink rises to his cheeks. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, honey.”

You blatantly ignore him, maneuvering yourself so that you’s practically half on his lap with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn’t mind the attention, per se. He just feels incredibly guilty about enjoying it when you’re loopy from all the cocktails you have had. You’re pressing kisses against his cheeks while your hands play with the collar of his shirt, tugging at the purple tie you chose earlier that day and there are lipstick stains all over his skin. He’s well aware of it; bright red with a sticky residue and he will forever not understand how you can wear it all the time. 

His tie has come undone entirely and you pull at his shirt to kiss dangerously close to his collarbone. 

“Okay–” he’s flushing scarlet and he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of anyone in the team. “Okay, baby, that’s enough. Let’s get you home.”

“Ooh,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows with insinuation.

“You need sleep.” He says it sternly, although you don’t seem to grasp the concept. 

“What kind of sleep?” You ask, winking. 

He shakes his head, amused and exasperated, as he rebuttons his shirt and reties his tie. “The REM kind. Come on, angel. Say good night to your friends.”

You giggle tiredly, waving goodbye to your friends. Penelope looks absolutely hammered, wiggling her eyebrows at you with an expression full of insinuation. Emily is smirking in your direction, swirling her martini around before taking a sip. JJ looks equally elated, snickering softly as she holds onto Will’s arm. 

Spencer ushers you gently into his car, leaning over the console to open the glove box on your side and brandishing a packet of micellar water wipes. He takes out two for himself before passing the rest of them to you.

“For your makeup,” he explains, wiping the lipstick marks off his cheeks. “I’ll help you with your skincare when we get home, alright?”

You’re in love. It isn’t long before he’s helping you up the stairs of his apartment and sitting you gently on the couch. Your eyes are droopy and it seems like the sugar high from your cocktails is wearing off. Spencer runs his fingers through your hair gently while he holds a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink. You only do it to appease him and once he’s satisfied with your water intake, he’s reaching for the zip of your dress.

“Someone’s needy,” you coo, giggling as he pulls it down to just below your ribcage. “Gonna rough me up?”

“No.” He answers it swiftly, and had you been sober your heart would have split in two. He continues, “I’m going to put you in something more comfortable and then you’re going to sleep.”

“Boring.”

“No, it’s not– it’s not boring,” he flounders, his cheeks growing hotter at your words. He can’t believe he’s arguing with a drunk person. “It’s not boring, baby, it’s safe. Alcohol is a neuro inhibitor. There’s a reason why you can’t drink and drive and it’s because the brain’s neural activity patterns are suppressed or blocked. That’s also the reason why you can’t ask a drunk person for consent; they don’t know or understand what’s going on around them.”

You’ve half fallen asleep at his explanation, the sleeves of your dress falling down your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. “So we’re not going to be partaking in passionate steamy love making?”

“No, we’re not,” he confirms, pulling your favourite pair of cotton pyjamas over your head. It’s a pale pink set with little bows prints all over it and a lacy collar. “Lift your hips for me, angel, I need to get the shorts on you.”

You comply, kicking the dress off into some forbidden corner of the room and Spencer takes this chance to slip the matching shorts onto your legs and up your thighs. The rest of the night is smooth sailing from there– he has successfully applied your skincare in such a way that you would be singing his praises. He has also managed to get you to drink another cup of water, and even though you’re going to wake up complaining about the fact you need to pee. He’d rather you complain about that instead of some raging headache. 

Spencer climbs under the covers next to you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your shoulder. A soft snore leaves your lips and he can’t help but chuckle. Passed out, as expected. 

“Good night, angel,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you tight. “See you in the morning.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

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[consciouscarrot]

day 8 - gifts [ s.reid ]

spencer reid x fem!reader

content warnings; fluff, r sits in spencer’s lap, r is wearing makeup (at least eyeshadow and eyeliner)

notes; bit of an abrupt ending lol

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

spencer was sat at his desk in his apartment, typing up a case report on his laptop after work when you came up to him. you slid your hands over his shoulders, before leaning down and hugging him from behind. he revelled in the weight of your head pressing into his neck, leaning his own into you slightly.

he noted that one of your hands was closed over something, but your fingers were too tightly wrapped around it for him to be able to get a good enough look and figure out what it was.

he tilted his head, kissing along your arm, gently nipping occasionally before muttering into your skin a soft, “hi, angel.”

you hummed, pulling away languidly then turning his wheelie desk chair around so that he was facing you. he reclined back, shifting his hips forward to accommodate for you. his lean arms wrapped around you snugly as you clambered on top of him, curling your legs underneath you and resting your head on his shoulder again.

your sweet apricot perfume wafted over him, he wasn’t usually a fan of fruity perfumes, finding that they tended to be a stronger scent and gave him migraines, but yours was a perfect blend on your skin. he breathed you in, fingertips running up and down your thigh soothingly.

“what you got there?” he queried.

you slowly unclenched your fingers, revealing a couple of pretty stones that sat on your palm. he took them gently, thumbing over the cool objects.

one was marbled with brown, orange and caramel swirling together, creating uneven stripes and loose spirals. it was covered in imperfections- chips and scratches lining it’s surface.

the other was a smokey grey, so shiny it was almost mirrored. it was very smooth, opposite of the first pebble with next to no marks.

they were both very pretty, and he thought that they were sort of like the two of you- one all shiny and polished, perfect- whilst the other was a little roughed up and tarnished. however, he knew you’d get upset if he told you this, always hating that he was so hard on himself.

“they’re for you, i found them when i was out on my walk. i washed them already, don’t worry,”

you fiddled with the end up his shirt, chewing your bottom lip nervously as your gaze flitted over his features, examining his expression.

“i love them, baby. thank you,” he smoothed over your hair, before gently cleaning up the smudged eyeliner that had begun to muddy your pretty pink eyeshadow, “i’ll cherish them forever.”

you hummed, visibly pleased and all sunny smiles as you looked up at him, basking under his loving touches.

“did you know that male penguins gift a pebble to someone they wish to mate?” he returned your gaze, veiny hand still holding your face, “it’s a sort of engagement ring for them.”

“i did not, that’s so cute. do you know why they do it?”

“i do! there’s not much research that’s been done on it, but it’s believed to be to show that the male penguin is capable of looking after the female, and any chicks they may have, as their nests are built from them, to keep them above any melting ice.”

“that can’t be very comfortable,”

he chuckled softly at your frown, adoring that you were fretting so much over penguins contentment. spencer bent his head down to kiss your chewed-up lips, laughing again when you flushed and quickly buried your head in his neck.

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Spencer Reid - Think of Me

Warnings: fluff, reader missing boyf!spencer, sweet!girlfriend x stargazed!spencer, this is just what I need irl

Words: 1.0k

Summary: Spencer thinks of his girlfriend, Y/N, as the sweetest woman he has ever met. When he came home late from work, he notices something about her that makes his heart flutter and makes him realize how much he loves her more every single day.

A/N: This is fairly inspired by Too Sweet from Hozier. I feel like I don't see enough Spencer Reid fluff on here so why not! Hope u enjoy xx

Spencer and Y/N had met when she started working at the BAU, a couple of years after Spencer settled into the team himself. He had always noticed how she smiled at everybody, spreading sweetness all around her without even noticing. He was smitten by her in a matter of weeks, stealing glances at the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life.

Y/N always treated Spencer as an adult, which is something that made him feel confident and he appreciated that about her. She brought him coffee and had noted how he liked it, brought him sweets and left him notes when he had a hard day. All those things that she did for him made him, eventually fall deeply in love with her.

After a year of getting to know Y/N, Spencer finally had the courage to take her out on a date. She wanted nothing more than to go out with him, agreeing with the sweetest smile she could give him. They both had a wonderful time, going out for dinner and heading to a poetry reading after.

He took her home, brushing a soft strand of her hair behind her ear, making her smile. Y/N reached up to meet his height, kissing his lips softly with a soft blush on both of their cheeks and his arm wrapped up loosely around her waist.

Spencer asked her to be his girlfriend after their third date together, which she whole-heartedly accepted, smiling wildly.

Three years had now passed, they had moved together, adopted a cat and lived their little life together. He couldn’t be happier when he had her in his life. She was so sweet to him, like a ray of sunshine on the cloudiest of days. She was the light of his life, and as was he to her.

She loved every single moment of her life with him. She loved the quiet evening of them reading and enjoying their tea in their living room. She thrived for their Friday nights, watching a movie with their cat on Spencer’s lap, purring loudly on his thighs. She loved having him around, the acts of services and his craving for physical touch.

She loved every single part of him, even the ones that he didn’t like the most himself.

One night, Y/N got the night off from a case and stayed at their apartment. It had been a long week for both of them, but Hotcher decided they had enough men on the field to let Y/N, JJ and Garcia get some rest. Spencer, Morgan, Rossi and Hotch stayed, Spencer telling her he would be back in the morning.  

Y/N had decided to sleep in early, exhausted both mentally and physically from her day. She got ready for bed, but it didn’t feel the same when Spencer wasn’t here. Their cat came to her for cuddles, but it only really wanted cuddles from Spencer, as Y/N wanted too.

She got into some more comfortable clothes, grabbing one of Spencer’s most beloved hoodies he always wore around their home. It was a gift she had given him on their anniversary, knowing he was always cold around their apartment. She placed it over her head, the sleeves long on her arms and the bottom of it falling down just over her thighs.

She got into bed, looking over at Spencer’s empty bed side. Y/N placed the hood over her head, curling up in the sheets and letting sleep washing over her, with a piece of him in her arms.

…

Spencer came back early that night, the case closing up earlier than intended. He came into the apartment, the lights switched off and the door to him and Y/N’s room slightly opened. He shrugged off his jacket and shoes, walking towards their room to find the prettiest sight.

Y/N was all curled up, sleeping tightly in his favorite hoodie, the hood high on her head. He smiled warmly at the sight, his heart fluttering with comfort and adoration.

He got into some more comfortable clothes, sliding soundly into the bed beside her sleeping body.  

She felt the bed dip beside her, wrapping her arms around him softly. Spencer placed his arms around her as well, pressing his cheek on her forehead.

“I missed you.” She whispered, her eyes closed and her tone sleepy. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the hoodie and the blankets that practically swallowed her while she slept.

He smiled sweetly, running his arm over her back, his hand resting on the back of her head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He spoke softly, kissing her forehead sweetly.

“You look so cute in my hoodie.” He whispered, looking down at her sleepy figure. Her hand hidden up the sleeve of his shirt.

She smiled warmly, looking up at Spencer. Y/N trailed her hand along his chest, making its way towards his cheek. He leaned into her touch, kissing the palm of her hand and her wrist as he placed his hand over hers.

“It reminds me of you when you’re not here.” She spoke softly, her voice filled with sleep.

He smiled sweetly at her response, his cheeks heating up with a warm blush under her touch.

“I’m here now, baby.” He whispered, bringing her closer to him and kissing her sweetly.

She loved everything about Spencer. Y/N loved his intelligence, his kindness and his different haircuts, but she loved it the most when they were alone together. Spencer cherished every single moment of his time when he was with her. Either they worked on a case together, or they bunked in a hotel room, or they cooked dinner. He loved spending time adoring Y/N.

They both laid close to each other, Spencer’s hand drawing patterns on her back from time to time. He kissed her forehead and her temple when her felt her breaths slowing down to a familiar beat.

“Goodnight, my love.” He whispered softly on her temple. Spencer fell asleep a couple minutes after her.

They did not need to speak to communicate between one another. They could lay in each other arms without having a single worry about the outside world. They thought about each other, all the time, and that’s why they were so perfect together.

Spencer couldn’t wait for the day he would ask her to marry him. Maybe that day would come sooner than she would expect it…

[reiderwriter]

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.

[emmasbrain]

Releasing Tension

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, blowjob, creampie, no use of protection (don’t be stupid, STDs are bad), idk let me know if there’s more

Synopsis: Spencer is tense and you stumble upon a way to ease his tension. (I don’t know how many times I wrote the word tense in this but it was too many)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

He was always tense. Something about him never seemed to be able to relax, and although he seemed happy sitting up against the armrest of your shared couch, reading a heavy old book - that you couldn’t for the life of you figure the name of since it was printed in russian - you could see his body was slightly rigid, as though he felt he had to be wary. It had always been like that, you’d brought it up to him before and all he said was that “stress is a part of his nature” but that it “didn’t stop him from doing things he enjoyed”.

That seemed to be enough for him. It wasn’t for you, though. “Spence.” You murmured, facing him from the other end of the couch. He glanced up at you, humming his acknowledgement at his name and giving you a small smile. You loved the way even the teeniest of his smiles to you would reach his eyes, making the golden brown almost sparkle.

“Hey, is everything okay?” His soft voice broke you from your thoughts, and you nodded your head.

“Yea I’m fine, was just lookin at you.” He gave a shy smirk at that and tucked a piece of loose hair behind his ear.

“Is that all you wanted? To look at me?” The amusement in his voice was undeniable, and you gave a small shrug to feign nonchalance.

“Mostly just to look at you,” You lifted yourself up and draped yourself over his lap, curling up against him like a cat, “also because I could see how tense you were from the other side of the sofa, and it was agitating me.” You gave a sheepish smile, tucking your head into his chest and he sighed, looking at you as though you’d asked “are we there yet” for the twenty-third time in a half hour trip.

He set his book down on the coffee table and put a hand on your cheek. “I love you baby, you know I do, but you have to understand that I’m just like that. I’m fine, and I know you worry that I’m not okay but it’s just how my body works. It’s how I process stress; from the bau, and from anything else. But I’m okay, and I’m happy. I promise, sweet girl.” His voice was soft and you could hear the steady heartbeat in his chest as he rubbed soothing strokes against your cheekbone with his thumb.

“I love you more.” Is all you replied with, capturing his hand in yours and kissing his palm. You adjusted your position to sit up a little and kiss his cheek, his jaw, his lips. You gave him a peck, both smiling into it like lovesick fools, and resting your foreheads together as you pulled away. This time he leaned back in, connecting your lips, and it was longer, softer.

You moved on his lap again for better access to your kiss, and he sucked in a breath. “Stay still.” He barely got the words out before attaching his lips back onto yours, suddenly feeling much hotter than it was before. You lifted up and moved to straddle him, quickly merging your lips back together. When you fully sat down, Spencer's hips bucked up to meet yours and he let out a breathy groan, tucking his head in your neck and kissing the skin there.

His half hard dick pushed up into you as you sat on him, and the combination of feeling him against your now wet cunt and the way he sucked at the skin just between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a soft whimper. “Doc…”

His hips jumped when he heard you, and he moved his hands to grasp your hips, pushing you down as he rutted himself against your cunt. The wetness that had started to form was now soaking through your pants, the skirt you were wearing pushed up by his hands so he could glance down and see the mess you were making on his trousers.

“Fuck, please… so good baby, feels so good.” His grip on your hips tightened and he gasped into your shoulder, biting down slightly. He was close, and what kind of girlfriend would you be to let him cum in his trousers, when he could cum in your mouth instead?

You lifted yourself to stand, legs wobbly as you had been nearing your own orgasm along with him. He whimpered at the loss of contact, and tried to reach out for you to pull you back, but you just smiled. “Turn around, Doc. I want you facing me.”

Spencer and your’ relationship was normally fairly equal in dynamics. It was all about giving each other pleasure, and so by focusing on each other you both settled into a comfortable situation. If one of you were in the mood to take more control, you would. If you recognised that one of you needed something, you would give it. It was interchangeable, and that was what you enjoyed about it.

A few days before, Spencer had bent you over your kitchen table, fucking into you roughly and leaving marks on your body that you could still faintly see. Now you were giving him a peck on the lips and dropping to your knees, delicately pulling his trousers and boxers down his legs and watching his cock stand against his stomach.

He was very still, eyes wide in anticipation. It looked as though he was trying not to scare you away, and the thought amused you. As you reached to hold him, you raised your eyebrows, silently asking for permission, and he nodded profusely. That encouraged you to wrap your hand around his cock, which was dripping precum, and he hissed as you dragged your hand up and thumbed his head, spreading the precum down his shaft to make it easier to work him.

After you had stroked him a few times, you decided it was probably best to give him what he wanted, so you leaned in and licked from the bottom of his dick to the top, tonguing his slit. His hips involuntarily pushed up, and he leaned his head against the back of the sofa, letting out little breaths as he flexed his fingers against the couch to calm himself.

The sight of him was beautiful, eyes scrunched up, mouth hanging slightly open. You couldn’t help yourself, so you took his head into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, running your tongue over the sensitive underside of his head. He choked out a groan at the feeling and the noise went straight to your core, soaking your pants even more.

Your clit was throbbing but you refused to pay it any mind as you took him further into your mouth, bobbing your head and stroking what you couldn’t achieve. He was looking down at you now, and when you made eye contact you pushed yourself further down on his cock, making your eyes water.

“‘M not gonna last.. feels too good.” He breathed out, lacing his fingers through your hair and gripping it, but not making a move to control your actions. You moaned around him, mostly just to see his reaction, and you were pleasantly rewarded as he whined, whispering an amalgam of curses and your name.

A tear began to drip down your cheek from taking him so far into your throat, and he lifted the hand that wasn’t in your hair to hold your face and wipe away the tear. Even through the pleasure burning in both his gut and yours, he never failed to do little things that warmed your heart. It gave you the motivation to speed up your motions, bobbing your head faster. The room echoed with the obscene noises of your mouth around him and his little moans that let you know he was ready to cum.

With your free hand, you moved to cup his balls and lightly squeeze and he could barely let out a groan as his breath got caught in his throat.

“I.. I’m-“ He tried to warn you but it was too late, and hot ropes of cum shot into your mouth. His hips stuttered and his grip in your hair tightened, forcing you to groan around his cock as the last ropes of cum filled your mouth until it was dripping down your chin. You carefully suckled his head until he looked satiated, and then pulled away and made sure to look directly into his eyes as you swallowed the mouthful of cum and grinned.

His head dropped to the back of the couch and he grumbled out a “fuck me”, shaking his head and smiling at your display. “C’mere.” He beckoned, helping you to your feet until you re-straddled his lap, centimetres from his still-hard cock.

“Did you like it?” you asked, daring to look timid now, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Like it? Did I like it?” He let out a breath and shook his head, swiping his thumb over the cum on your chin, and before he could do anything you pulled his thumb into your mouth, lightly tonguing the pad of his finger. “You are so perfect.” He pulled his thumb from your mouth and replaced it with his lips. “So perfect. I loved it.” The taste of himself in his mouth felt unusual but mixed with the taste of you he couldn’t complain.

You placed your hands onto his shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Less tense. I’ll take it.” Your remark made him scoff, and he pulled you in for another kiss - to shut you up you presumed. You didn’t much mind though.

As he pulled away, his head dipped down to kiss just under your chin, and then continue his kisses down your neck. It was soft, showing his gratitude, but you couldn’t help the way your walls clenched at the action despite his intention. “Spence..” You warned - though not exactly sure what you were warning him about - but he understood nonetheless.

“Do you want something?” He teased, acting as though a minute ago he wasn’t moaning and mumbling nonsense as he came in your mouth. His little kisses never ceased, although now they were much less little.

“Please.” Your voice came out whiny and needy and the sound he made in response was almost pained.

“When you ask like that I can’t refuse you. I would do anything if you asked just like that.” He lifted his head to your face, hands pulling at either side of your head to crash his lips against yours, He was somehow soft and rough at the same time, making you unable to breath and unable to want to. “Do you want me inside you baby? Can I be inside you?” He was rushing his words between kisses but you heard them perfectly, and it shot straight to your aching clit.

You pulled away momentarily to question, “Can you go again?” You didn’t want to push him, but he seemed overly enthusiastic about fucking you.

“I need it so bad.” He was almost begging, even though he knew he didn’t have to. You needed this just as much as he did, the begging was just an added bonus.

“Fuck me, then.” You said pointedly.

“Fuck you?”

“Fuck me, Doctor Reid. If you don’t I think I’ll go insane.”

And at that he grinned and flipped you both over, now lying across the couch with Spencer between your legs. He made quick work of pulling your pants down and groaned when he saw the wetness glistening on your pussy lips. “So wet for me, sweet girl. I could never get over how wet you get for me.” He was barely audible, speaking more for himself than to you, and he leaned forward, grabbing his cock and giving himself a few short strokes.

When he was back to being fully hard, he pushed his tip between your lips and against your slit, collecting the wetness and dragging it up over your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but they soon flew open as he roughly pushed into you without warning, filling you until your pelvises pressed together. The broken cry that left your mouth had him rocking into you as he waited to be told he could move.

He was desperate to fuck into you but he needed your permission and it was driving him insane. His face was nuzzled into your neck and he was inhaling slowly, gripping onto your hips bruisingly to ground himself.

“Move.” You uttered the word and he immediately pulled out half way, slamming back into you like his life depended on it. He set a heavy pace and it wasn’t long until you were a moaning mess, grasping at his arms that were now steadying himself on your hip and next to your head.

“Feel so good baby, you’re so perfect. So perfect for me sweet girl.” The nickname sent a bolt through you and you clenched around him. “Ah fuck, you can’t do that to me baby I won’t last.” He warned, but that’s what you wanted, so you laced your fingers through his hair and synonymously pulled at his hair as you tightened around him. The shocked moan he let out sent waves down your spine and you could feel that familiar coil tightening in your gut.

“I need you to cum for me Doc. Cum inside me Spencer.” He couldn’t reply, only whimpering in response as his pace lost its rhythm, sharp thrusts combining with shallow ruts as he began to reach his peak. His hand on your hip trailed over and began to rub small circles on your clit as his hips began to spasm and he warned with small groans that he was close.

Your orgasm sweeped over your body and your thighs tightened around his waist as you whined, white flashing in your eyes as the pleasure overtook you. You gasped and came back down as Spencer stilled, cum spilling deep inside you as his body lightly shook with the pleasure. He stayed like that, hips pushed as far against you as they could go, head rested on your shoulder as he gasped in little breaths of air while he calmed.

When he felt he could move, he pulled out of you and collapsed on top of you, his cum beginning to drip from your spent hole but neither of you moved to clean yourselves up. You lay there for what could have been minutes or hours, not saying a word, until you broke the silence. “Definitely not tense now.” You whispered, and you both couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, I’ll admit to being tense all the time if it ends like that.” He mumbled against your skin, and you chuckled.

“We could always just do that anyway.” You replied, and he hummed in agreement.

He planted a soft kiss to your jaw, unable to lift his head much further, and moved his hand to hold your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.” He spoke quietly against you.

“Always, Doc.” You turned to kiss his palm and fell back into comfortable silence, almost sure Spencer was falling asleep.

[ssahotchnerr]

aaron would never admit it, being a man who loves his children equally, but there’s just something about ellie that’s always made him worry more. his career mainly focusing on female homicides certainly doesn’t help, but he swears it’s just something different. something shifted in him the day he held ellie for the first time, an innate desire to shield her from a kind of harm jack wouldn’t have to worry about.

the first time ellie proves her capability to aaron, she’s 9, sat between you two in the principal’s office. her knee is scraped, wild curls springing loose from her french braid, her (aaron’s) brown eyes glaring at her principal analytically, almost as if she’s trying to jumpstart her profiling career in her grass-stained soccer uniform.

the principal explains the severity of why the two of you had been called in—ellie had kicked a boy 5 years her senior in the shins, then had to be pulled off of him by one of the assistant coaches.

“eleanor odette hotchner,” aaron starts, “do you have ANYTHING to say for yourself?”

ellie looks right at him, unwavering.

“he picks on jack all the time. he’s the reason he came home with a bruise the other day. i saw it happen, dad. no one did anything about it, even after jack and i came in and told you.”

you and aaron look at each other, taken aback, and then to the principal as he sputters out an explanation.

“wait,” you interrupt, your own profiling skills kicking in, “is that why you and jack were late that one day coming home?” you look to aaron again, “jack said he hung back to ask a question about his science project.”

ellie shakes her head.

you two look back to the principal again, flushed red at the gaze of two identical sets of brown eyes glaring at him.

“you two have to understand, coach carter is one of the best JV coaches-“

“carter?? as in nathan carter’s dad? the same nathan carter who bullied jack so bad we had to switch classes in the middle of the school year?” you connect the dots, anger rising at the man in front of you.

the principal remains silent, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

ellie leans over to aaron, lowering her voice, as if telling him a secret.

“it’s called nepotism. uncle spencer told me about it.”

when the three of you leave that day, ellie is still suspended for three days, as opposed to the week she had been eyeing originally.

he saves the story till the perfect time arises, only a few days later. it’s a tense moment on the jet, when everyone is exhausted from a long, grueling case.

he starts it with an offhanded comment about how ellie has been on suspension, and 5 sets of eyes and ears perk up.

“ellie? our ellie? what happened?”

he hits the story’s climax right as dave is taking a sip of his whiskey. at the mention of nepotism, he laughs so hard it comes out of his nose.

ellie’s gonna be fine, aaron tells himself. as long as she doesn’t give her old man a heart attack first.

oh my god?????? yes. yes yes yes yes YES

not only does ellie favor aaron’s traits, she’s just as fiercely protective.

plus, aaron and jack have always been coming to her rescue whenever she needs it — her being the ‘baby’ of the family, being more vulnerable in different instances, they love her and want to protect her. so when the time comes for her to do the same, she does not hesitate. it’s what they would’ve done for her.

and of course she knows better — fighting is never the solution, doesn’t solve anything (and the fact she’s now on nathan’s and all his friends radar) — she was not about to be a bystander and let her big brother take a beating. absolutely not. so as she’s sitting in the principal’s office waiting for you and aaron, she’s extremely nervous, but regardless of what follows, she doesn’t regret what she’s done.

and while aaron has to be Dad and not condone fighting, he’s so incredibly proud of her. ellie apprehending a kid who’s twice her size — his little ellie???

it settles a bit of his worries. like, he’ll always be worried due to what he sees everyday, but ellie has proven can defend herself (at just 9 years old) and he has to give her more credit. she’s not some little weakling — she’s a hotchner.

and the bau finding out??? incredibly shocked, but just as aaron and you — proud.

[reidsrambles]

An Invisible Locket

Chapter 3: Painted Me Golden

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader // Secret relationship

Description: You work with your best friend and your boyfriend. The only problem is, nobody knows Spencer Reid is your boyfriend of over a year. When you find out that Spencer's getting sent out on a case immediately after getting back to Quantico, impulses take over. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, oral sex (M & F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (in a pro-choice context, though Reader ends up choosing to stay pregnant), minor mentions of alcohol and cancer.

As for the crime subplot, much of it is very canon-typical (referenced child abuse & grooming by an extended family member (non-sexual), violence, blood/gore, drugs. As always, please feel free to let me know if I miss any CWs!

A/N: This fic is obviously heavy on the Spencer and Reader relationship, but it's also got a significant Garcia best friend plot line and crime plot line. This fic also features an unplanned Reader pregnancy. Reader debates abortion and is pro-choice, but ultimately ends up keeping the pregnancy. If any of that isn't up your alley, please feel free to skip this fic!

Names used: Baby, baby girl, good/sweet/pretty girl, daddy, good boy (once), my love.

Words (this chapter): 4.1 K

Words (total): 29.1 K

Pulling up to the FBI Academy for the first time was quite intense. You had only moved to Virginia two days prior, and your apartment consisted of a mattress on the floor and stacks of boxes all over the place. When you pulled them out of the box the night before, deep wrinkles littered your white blouse and black pencil skirt. Thank god you had thought ahead and put an iron and ironing mat in with your box of work clothes. First impressions are important.

Penelope had prepped you on what to expect for your first day. Security was a lot, but knowing what to expect definitely made the process easier. Your new boss was the first one to greet you as you stepped out of the elevator.

“You must be Y/N.” He reached his hand out to shake yours, which you promptly took. His handshake was firm, but not at all aggressive; a fine line that he straddled well. “I’m your Unit Chief, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Penelope Garcia has told us so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope!”

“Oh, of course. Everyone should be free right now, so I’ll gather them and introduce you.”

Penelope had told you all about every member of the team, both casually, before you got hired, and after, in order to prepare you. It was strange to put faces to the names you had heard so much about. Penelope didn’t have a bad thing to say about anyone, but she did give you some warnings about everyone’s… quirks.

Everyone was very kind as they greeted you, but you couldn’t help but notice the timid guy, about your age, keeping some distance and standing off to the side. Penelope had told you about one, Dr. Spencer Reid, but the image you had crafted of him in your head wasn’t matching up with reality.

Your eyes kept drifting over to him and Derek must have noticed.

“Kid, stop being shy and get over here!” he said to Reid.

To you, he whispered, “I’m not sure if Penelope has told you about our little Einstein, but he gets nervous around pretty ladies.” The way he had said it wasn’t at all flirty towards you; he was slyly ridiculing Spencer.

Spencer put a hand out for you to shake. As he stood in front of you, shaking your hand, what you had been told about him was blending into the reality of him. Nerdy, ‘Boy Genius’ meets attractive FBI agent.

His light brown hair—mostly wavy, besides a few distinct curls—was just at the length where he was having to brush it off his face. His hazel eyes, framed by glasses, appeared to subtly shift in tone as his face moved. He wore a cardigan over his dress shirt and his tie was slightly too loose; not crisp and neat like Hotch’s was.

He wasn’t even physically your type, really. The guys you slept with in college tended to be athletic and more of the douchey frat bro type.

Your high school was small, and you were the lame girl who would spend her lunches hidden away in the computer lab coding. Teenagers can be cruel, and you weren’t exactly the epitome of popular. In senior year, you’d decided that when you got to college, you’d “fake it ‘til you make it” in regard to confidence. Turns out, guys found your confidence hot; they didn’t care what your major was. You never quite “made it” with your confidence, though. You just kept faking. It was tiring.

You never dated in college because you could only keep the façade up for so long, and once you felt yourself becoming invested in a guy and wanting something real, you ran. In therapy, you’ve since worked through a lot of that, thankfully. But meeting Spencer was what got you to delve into that aspect of your past with your therapist—something you only realized later, when you started dating him.

Love at first sight doesn’t exist, but from that first meeting with Spencer, there was some sort of spark. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even lust. You just felt something when he shook your hand.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to finally meet you,” he said, his eyes avoiding meeting yours.

***

The door to Penelope’s apartment opens and standing before you is your best friend, already in her pajamas and fluffy unicorn slippers. Her face is a bit puffy. She’s been crying.

You lift up the reusable shopping bag you’re carrying to draw attention to it. “You go sit while I put these away and get changed, all right?”

With the ice cream in the freezer, the wine in the fridge, and your pajamas on, you regroup with Penelope in the living room. She’s on the couch, wrapped in one of her many throw blankets. The TV is playing reruns of a show you know she doesn’t even watch, but the background noise is appreciated. You reach down and grab a blanket for yourself from the basket she keeps them in and settle into the opposite end of the couch.

Penelope blankly stares at the TV, making no effort to address you. Knowing your best friend, you’d guess that she wants you to start this conversation. She hates confrontation even more than you do, somehow.

The show on the TV dances across your field-of-view, but you have no clue what’s happening on it. It’s time to put on your big-girl-pants and go for it.

“Please, just spill,” you say. “I can’t stand seeing you like this and I’ve been a nervous wreck all day because of it.” Your words come out soft. “What did I do? I genuinely have no clue what I did wrong.”

Taking a throw pillow from the couch, you hug it to your chest as if it can shield you from whatever she’s going to say.

“You and Reid.”

Shit.

An enormous sigh falls out of you, and you aren’t sure if it’s relief that your secret is finally out of the bag or that you finally know what’s wrong. Regardless, that’s enough confirmation for Penelope.

“How long?” she continues, before you can even start.

The guilt of having hidden this from her for so long has been weighing on you much more than you previously realized, and now it’s all come to a head.

“Fourteen months. A little over a year,” you say, “Penelope I’m so—”

“Stop,” she cuts you off and begins to cry as she continues. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts to find out that your best friend has been lying to you about something this big? And Spencer’s been lying to me, too! Does anyone else know!?”

Seeing her this hurt is killing you. You should have told her sooner. If you had a sister, you probably would have told her a long time ago. You’re an only child and Penelope isn’t super close with her stepbrothers, so you’d determined that you must be twin flames or something like that. Soul sisters, maybe.

“You’re the only person at work that knows. Even outside of work, only his mom and my parents know. When this started, we took things slow. We were casual for like, a month or so and we obviously weren’t going to tell anyone about that. Once we started dating, we thought it made more sense to keep it between us; to avoid comments and eyes on us at work, you know? We kept things entirely professional at work. Neither of us was sure that it was going to last and, if it didn’t, we could navigate working together as exes, but we didn’t want to navigate the entire unit knowing that we were exes.”

You shrug your shoulders and let out a defeated breath. “Regardless, look at what happened this morning with your meeting. I know that the team wouldn’t let anything happen to me or Spence, but if Strauss wants to play games and threaten someone’s job…?”

You don’t even need to answer that question because Penelope already knows that an intimate workplace relationship would put a target on your back with Erin.

“But you know you can trust me. Why didn’t you trust me?”

“I should have,” you nod. “It’s not that I actively distrusted you, Pen. I swear.” You reach out from your blanket cocoon and grab her hand, which she reciprocates. “I think that, after we decided that we wanted to make an attempt at something serious between us, we wanted to be able to focus on that without any external influence, especially from anyone at work. And it’s definitely been a lot of work. I love him so much, but with our jobs and our schedules…? We’ve both had to fight to find the alone time and the space where we can just be a couple.”

Penelope starts gently rubbing the palm of your hand with her thumb and her face softens with a feeble smile.

“You love our boy wonder?”

You mirror her expression with your own shy smile as you reflect on your partner.

“I love him so much. I mean, you know how amazing he is. I definitely don’t need to tell you that. He’s such an amazing boyfriend, though, too. I always feel happy and safe when I’m with him. He’s always teaching me new things and I know the team just wants him to shut up sometimes when he goes all Professor Reid at work, but I could listen to him talk for hours. When we’re together, sometimes I just let him ramble while I knit. He’s my free audiobook,” you giggle.

The smile on both of your faces has brightened and you’ve slowly shifted closer to each other on the couch throughout the conversation. Penelope grabs your other hand and lovingly squeezes it.

“You know how much I love you and I’m so, so happy that you’re this happy. The Good Doctor has good taste too, it seems.” There’s some wistfulness in her expression as her eyes meet yours again. “I just really wish you had told me, so I didn’t have to find out like this.”

Your demeanor rapidly shifts into perplexity as you remember that Penelope never explained the discovery to you. “Wait, how did you figure it out, anyway!? You never told me!”

An air of pride washes over her. “Well, you may have fooled an entire unit of profilers, but as we both know, my dear Y/N, I’m the divine being from which no secrets can be kept …for longer than one year—give or take.”

You giggle, always pleased by how easily she can make you laugh.

“Okay, now, Miss Divine Being, tell me how it actually happened,” you prod.

She rolls her eyes and begins narrating her version of today’s events to you. “So, I was already back at my desk when I got your text saying that you were going home for lunch. I was so surprised, because I was like, ‘I didn’t know Y/N was leaving! I was going to offer to buy her lunch from her favorite fancy French café down the road as an apology for stressing her out this morning!’”

This woman’s flair for the dramatics is showing, but you can’t even complain because you’re already thoroughly entertained.

She continues, “I didn’t want to text you to ask if you had already left, in case you were on your bike. No distracted cycling for you! So, I checked the security camera that’s in the bike cage of the parking lot, and I saw that your bike was still locked up! Maybe you were still making your way down to your bike, I thought. So I totally didn’t check the very precise geolocation of your work phone, because that would totally be crossing a line and very much against policy, right?”

Your jaw drops open. Are you entirely surprised? No. Disappointed in her? Yes.

“Anyway, I learned that you were up on the 2nd floor of the parking garage. Weird, right? I pull up the 2nd floor parking garage security feed—which, I very much am allowed to do—and what do I see?”

You try extremely hard to hold back a smirk as the full picture of her discovery comes together in your mind.

She claps her hands together. “I see my best friend getting into the car of none other than Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“So, that’s it? You saw me get into Spencer’s car and your Spidey-senses just knew?”

“I put two and two together, Y/N! Well, first, I thought about the reasons you would lie to me about going home for lunch in order to go somewhere with Reid, but I couldn’t figure out where you would want to go with him.”

“Penelope Garcia!” you gasp. “Did you track my work phone all the way to my house?”

“I also tracked Reid’s phone,” she quietly admits. “Both of you sneaking off to your apartment was enough for me to figure out there was some hanky-panky going down.”

“Well, I hadn’t seen him in a week, and he was about to leave again on this case, so we needed—”

She plugs her ears with her fingers. “Nuh, uh! I don’t need to hear any more of that. I’m still processing the dating thing, so please spare me the dirty details!”

You crack open the wine and ice cream you brought while catching up on the Bachelorette, yelling at the screen whenever something outrageous happens (which is often). You skip out on the wine, though, because you’ve got to be able to wake up for work tomorrow. One glass and you’d be zonked.

After getting in bed, you and Penelope lie facing each other. You’ve worked through a lot tonight, but something still feels unsettled for some reason.

You speak in a whisper, breaking the silence. “Pen, I’m sorry I never told you. I wish that I had been the one to tell you versus you finding out like that.”

“My little pumpkin pie, it’s okay.” She gently pinches your cheek. “To be fair, I shouldn’t have tracked your phone. I should have just waited until you got back after lunch and just asked you about it.”

“Yeah, probably,” you laugh. “I’m not telling Hotch, but you know you’ve got to apologize to Spencer later, right? For tracking his phone, too?”

She nods. “I know. I’ll talk to him once you tell him that I know so I can apologize.”

You know she will. She screwed up, but her heart is always in the right place.

“Neither of us are perfect, that’s for sure. Think about it this way, though. Yes, you fucked up, but at least you came clean immediately and didn’t lie to me for over a year, right?” you joke.

Penelope laughs alongside you. “You only lied to protect your relationship. Now that I’ve had a hot minute to process that my best-friend-slash coworker has been secretly dating my other best-friend-slash-coworker,” she pauses to take a breath and you have to pull your lips between your teeth to prevent a giggle, “you know I could never, ever fault you for that.”

Only a beat passes before she continues, asking, “Can you promise me something?”

“Promise you what, Pen?”

“No more secrets,” she says, “for either of us. You’re my best friend in the whole world.” In the faint glow of pink lava lamp light contrasting the pale moonlight shining in through the window, you see the reflection of her eyes becoming glossy. “We got through this, but in the future, let me in. Let me be by your side.”

You feel your face heating as your already dim vision gets blurrier.

“Yeah. Okay. But, now that you know, we need to have more girl’s nights and sleepovers so I can keep you up to date on things. If we talk too much at work, one of us will slip up in front of someone.”

“You mean, I’d slip up, and I totally get that because I would definitely be the one to accidentally spill the beans.”

“And I’m trusting you not to. Think you can do that for me, Pen?”

“You know I can’t promise that with a 100%, money-back guarantee because I’m me,” her gentle smile is faintly illuminated, “but I’ll definitely try my best.”

You know you could never ask for anything more from Penelope. It’s the way her brain works, and you couldn’t ask her to change that without fundamentally changing who she is, and you love her as-is. If she accidentally slipped up, it would suck, but it also wouldn’t be the absolute end of the world or anything.

“Hey, I love you, Pen”

She reaches up and taps the tip of your nose.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

You both roll onto your backs. The air feels lighter.

“So, when are you gonna tell the team?” she asks.

“I’m not too sure, honestly. Things are just so good right now and I’m scared to change too much. I’m also scared to paint that big, bright target on my back, you know? I can’t have Strauss or hell, even Hotch thinking that I’m less competent at my job because of my relationship with Spencer.”

Penelope takes a moment before asking, “What about Spencer? How does he feel about it?”

“Now, I think he’s a bit more ready than I am. In the beginning, he was the one who had more to lose by telling the team, especially before we became official, official. I was still relatively new to the team then, but he had known everyone for years and he didn’t want everyone’s perception of him to change so drastically.”

“Well, whenever you decide to tell the team, you know everyone’s going to be really happy for you, right? You both are a part of the BAU family.”

“Yeah, I know. I think we’ve just gotten so comfortable hiding that the idea of everything being out in the open is scary. Thank you for everything, though, Pen.”

She reaches over and grasps your hand with hers. You squeeze back; your silent reassurance to each other that everything is going to be okay, no matter what.

***

“Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to finally meet you,” he said.

Every time his eyes flicked back to your face, it felt raw. You had to look away. You felt naked.

After that awkward introduction, the first six or seven months of working at the FBI were uneventful, as far as any sort of relationship between you and Spencer. You primarily only left your cave of an office to go to the bathroom, to make coffee, or for case briefs, anyway.

You did see him a few times outside of work, though. Dave had invited everyone over to his place for dinner a few times, and there were a handful of times that the team got drinks at the bar after work. He didn’t ignore you and you didn’t ignore him per se, but you still didn’t interact a whole lot. You grew closer to the rest of the team over those months, but not to Spencer.

Even with that first flicker of something when you met him, you knew you couldn’t pursue Spencer, even if you wanted to. Even if he were somehow attracted to you, you couldn’t date a coworker, especially not when you had barely been there half-a-year.

You reminded yourself that you were given the chance work with your best friend and to actually make some positive change in the world. You couldn’t willingly choose to fuck that up over some guy, especially when you weren’t even sure how you felt about him. Sure, he was an attractive guy. But being around Spencer felt like looking at a statue behind glass; close in proximity, but entirely untouchable. Entirely unreachable. What did he even feel like?

Everything changed the day you were caught sobbing in the bathroom. That day, the glass shattered before you and you reached out to touch. It was early afternoon and the usual ambiance of the office had quieted, most people out to lunch or heads-down at their desk, enjoying the peace and quiet.

The large pane of mirrored glass spanning the wall above the bathroom sinks made you feel as though you were in a funhouse; you, the clown. You dabbed at the black mascara stains under your eyes as you tried to somewhat-preserve your makeup, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. It turned into whack-a-mole, but with smeared mascara.

There were two quick knocks on the bathroom door before it opened, ever so slightly.

“I’m not coming in,” the male voice declared, clearing his throat, “but, is everything– uh, are you okay… in there?”

You froze. “Reid?”

“Y/N?” he asked in return. “I didn’t know who was in there, but I heard the crying.”

“Shit.” You covered your mouth. “Sorry, I mean, uh–” Fuck. “I didn’t realize I was so loud, sorry. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay.”

He went quiet for a second and neither of you moved a muscle. It was so awkward and the only noise to fill the silence was the buzz of the fluorescent bathroom lights.

“Do you want me to go find Garcia?” he asked.

“No. She, uh– She left for lunch a few minutes ago.”

“Oh. Well, sorry for… intruding.”

“It’s fine. Thanks for checking on me, Reid.”

“If you need or, uh, if you want someone to talk to, you know where I’ll be.”

He gave a couple seconds before closing the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he walked away.

A few minutes later, you returned to your office to a sticky note on your desk which read:

“Here’s my personal number if you ever need a listening ear. I hope everything’s okay.”

You: “Hi, Spencer. It’s Y/N. Just got your note. Do you have a few minutes to swing by my office?”

You had figured the least you could do was explain and thank him for reaching out. Your text went unanswered, but about a minute later, he knocked on your door.

You explained that you were crying because you overheard two security guards making fun of the way you and Penelope dress. You see those two guards every morning at the security checkpoint on your way in. While you were on your way to grab stuff from the printer, you heard them joking with each other around the corner.

“I know it’s a really stupid thing to cry over. It’s just clothes. I didn’t want to tell Penelope though, obviously.”

“That’s a completely valid thing to cry over, in my book,” he said, his tone completely free of judgment.

“What, like you ever cry?” you joked.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he laughed. “You’re good, don’t worry.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for checking up on me and to explain. It was nothing serious. I’m fine.”

As he turned to leave, half in your office and half out, he said something that immediately had you reconsidering how you felt about him. “I’m glad you’re better. If you ever need to chat or something though, you can always text my personal cell. And, for what it’s worth, I think you look great.” His tone was probably more suggestive than he had intended because he panicked a bit as soon as the words left his mouth. “Your outfit, I mean!”

His simple compliment felt like that first flicker; like a spark. This spark went straight into the pit of your stomach, though. When he tried to backpedal, it was like a baby deer, fumbling while trying to walk on ice; adorable.

You and Spencer first began texting that night. The texts rapidly turned into mini-essays back and forth, replying to the numerous topics of the previous lengthy text. Texting turned into nightly phone calls. What started out as a practical shift to save your fingers from falling off turned into your nightly comfort. In contrast to the quick glances you began to give each other at work, his voice, quiet and sleepy coming through the speaker on your phone, felt intimate. You knew you were getting a side of him that nobody else at work was getting. His walls fell down before your very eyes, and it was extremely hot.

Two weeks after the initial text, Spencer was in your apartment. Two hours after that, he was in your bed. Two months later (Spencer would remember exactly how many days) you had the “so what are we to each other?” conversation.

It was never just hooking up though. It had been more than that from the start and you both knew it.

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[littlewriterfullofwords]

Happy New Year

Parring: dr. Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Summary: It's a New Year Eve party!

Warnings: fluff I guess

A/N: Happy New Year guys! I had some drinks so excuse any mistakes!

Just like for Christmas Eve, you invited your team from BAU over to celebrate New Year Eve with you.

You decorated the house with some balloons, prepared some food and alcohol. You put on shiny clothes (made shiny make up) and waited for the team to appear by your door.

As always, Penelope was first. Her beautiful smile enlightened the house and her colourful clothes gave colours to the monotonous decor of the living room.

"You make our life a lot better, sweetheart." Said the woman and hugged you again, the third time in 5 minutes.

The next one was Emily. Her dark hair, perfectly composed with black, slightly shiny dress, was tied in a loose bun with free strands on the sides.

JJ wore a red dress and curled her blond hair that had fallen on her back and shoulders.

The men, instead of Gideon was Rossi, the sudden change you didn't expect to happen, came in wearing suits or something quite elegant.

"Who would think we would need your little parties." Joked Morgan, a glass of homemade alcohol in between his fingers.

"We're glad you're with us." Joined him Emily with a smile and a glass of whiskey.

"Sure." You jokingly rolled your eyes then laughed. "You only need my alcohol, nothing more."

"Actually..." Everyone looked at Spencer who was enjoying his one and only vodka. "We all are very fond of you. Me especially."

"Yeah, we know." Agreed Derek with a smile. "We know."

You also smiled. You've never heard Reid being so straightforward with anything except information and facts. What he had said made your stomach turn upside down and the heart to skip a few beats.

You were also very fond of Spencer. As you realized before Christmas Eve, you were fucking in love with him and you were sure nothing could change that any time soon.

After some talking with food along, you all started to dance, sing and drink even more. Those people in your house, they were totally different people from that you worked with. It's not like you were complaining, no. It was just good to know that they were feeling comfortable enough to show their other side to you.

"You know." Quiet tipsy Emily sat by your side on the sofa and pointed at Reid who was singing one of Abba's song with Aaron in the middle of your living room. "The doctor is very fond of you. He looks at you all the time. He talks about you when you're not around. He's kinda obsessed, you know?"

"That's... That's good to know, thank you." You didn't know what to think about the information you just received.

Should you work on that? Or should you leave it as it was? Gods only know.

When all those thoughts were going through your head like F1 cars, your eyes locked with those belonging to Spencer. You both smiled at each other. You felt another heat wave hit your face. You were in love with the guy.

3...

2....

1...

Happy New Year!

The fireworks flew to the sky and exploded with million colours, making the night sky the brightest in the whole year.

"I hope we stay together." Started Penelope and clinked her glass with Derek's. "I really love you guys!"

"We love you too, Pen." You said and kissed her cheek.

Everyone, of course with champagne in their hands, wished everyone happy new year and more. It was a tradition, right?

"Y/N." Before you came back inside behind everyone, Reid stopped you by calling your name and slightly pulling your top.

"Yes, Spenc?" You stopped and looked at the doctor who looked cute with those red cheeks and hazy eyes.

"I wanted to...." His hand hid under his hair as he scratched his neck what, as always, made you smile. "Happy New Year, Y/N."

You opened your mouth to answer but before you even made a sound, Spencer's lips touched yours.

You always knew him as an individual who would rather avoid physical touch yet here he was. His lips on yours, his hands on your cheek and waist, almost no distance between you two. And oh gods, you loved that! You loved that too much.

"Happy New Year." You whispered after you two parted. "I hope you stay with me, Spenc."

"I hope so too, Y/N." One more kiss before coming in, his hand on your lower back and wide smiles on both your faces.

"So...." JJ pushed Emily away from the window and looked at Morgan who was facing the wall.

"Shall we congratulate you, guys?" Asked Aaron.

"I think so." Answered Reid for both of you.

"Happy New Year then!"

[liliumsabyss]

Had a little look through your character list to see if you wrote for Outer banks, the show isn’t there but at the top of your list it says that characters can be requested it’s just not 100% that you will write for them. If you don’t that’s completely ok I’d be happy for you to use this request for my fav Newt or even switch it up and write it for Spencer Reid because I saw him on the list too.

Anyway here’s the thoughts that have been thunk: Jj Maybank from outer banks (happy for someone else if you don’t write him) with a sleepy boyfriend (reader) who has just woken up and Jj isn’t there with him so he just wanders around until he finds hims and pretty much just falls into his arms for cuddles when he does find him and it’s all cute and fluffy.

I mean this with my whole entire mind body and spirit, you are one of my favourite authors and even though I have no idea who you are I love you and your work. I eat it up every time you write one of my requests and it’s just: ✨❤️🤩🏆 all the time, you know? Thank you for existing and sharing your stories they make my day.

All the love ❤️

Sleepyheads

FEM DNI, I SWEAR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

Tw: Very brief allusions to medical emergencies such as heart attacks, strokes, and other things along those lines but never outwardly stated just the asking of symptoms, Mentions of Cat Adams and Tobias Hankel, Very Fluffy, Spencers adorable stutter and yes he has a stutter, and Unedited

A/n: Hey! Once again thank you so much for the request! Im sorry this took so long I may or may not have gone down a rabbit hole trying to figure out Jj’s personality from OBX only to fail and ask everyone I know who watches the show including my mother for his personality only for them all to not be very helpful and have to go with one of the other characters you stated. I ended up going with Spencer to shake things up and also I love Spencer so much and with the new criminal minds season having him gone I chose to show him some love. Thank you so much for everything it’s such an honor for someone to think of me as their favorite author and to like my work. Also the day I got this request I had a very poor encounter with someone so this just made my day so much! Thank you so much <3

(Y/n) woke up sleepily blinking his eyes open, reaching to his right lazily when he felt a cold empty spot. He sat up quickly looking around confused in the dark room noticing the vacant right side of the bed. The warm light poured under the doorway from the hall of the apartment. The (h/c) haired male swung his legs off the bed slowly standing up as he rubbed his eyes sleepily stumbling to the door of the bedroom. He opened up the door blinking wildly as the light flooded in, hurting his eyes. (Y/n) walked down the hallway to the end which opened up into the large room that was split between the kitchen, living room, and dinning room, across the rood was a set of glass french doors. Looking through the glass doors one could see a man curled over his desk still adorning his plum colored button up shirt and his dark dark blue almost black tie that hung loosely around his neck. His mop of curly brown hair covered many details of his face including his warm umber colored eyes that stared stressfully at the case files scattered across the desk. (Y/n) staggered his way across the large open room of the apartment he shared with his boyfriend who was in fact the man hunched over the desk lost in his work, Spencer Reid. The (h/c) haired male approached the glass doors knocking gently leaning against them for support, tiredly wrapping his arms around himself. The other male turned his head towards the glass doors staring at the other in surprise. He quickly got up rushing over to the glass doors opening the one his lover was not leaning against.

“ Mh Spence why are you up…” (Y/n) said as he stopped leaning against the doors.

“ I-I had to look more at this case some-something about it doesn’t seem right,” Spencer started rubbing his hand on his forehead before he looked up with his eyebrows pinched.

“ Wait w-why are you u-” 

Spencer began to day but was cut off when the (h/c) haired male collapses towards him catching the other.

“ Woah woah (Y/n)! Are you ok! What’s wrong?! Your pulse seems to be fine. Does your chest hurt? Did you hit your head? Can you put both your hands out and close your eyes for me?” Spencer started to ramble asking various questions related to various medical emergencies. The (h/c) haired male just wrapped his arms tightly around the other snuggling his head into the other male's chest.

“ Spence, I'm fine, can you come to bed please.” (Y/n) said, staring up at Spencer putting on a playful pout. Spencer shook his head, his lips pulling into his wide iconic grin.

“ Ok. Did you know that the human body needs at least se-“ Spencer started to say as the two walked towards their bedroom, his arm around the other's waist. But before the brunette could continue (Y/n) jabbed his elbow into Spencer's side quickly shutting him up understanding the point. The two staggered to their room shutting the white wooden door behind them causing them to be surrounded in dark. The two collapsed on their bed not bothering to climb under the covers. The (h/c) haired male buried his head in the brunette male's chest while Spencer moved his chin on top of the other's head, both holding each other tightly in their arms.

“ I love you Spence…” (Y/n) said drifting off at the warmth that the other radiated.

“ I love you too.” Spencer said, squeezing the other tightly as he closed his eyes. While Spencer often had nightmares due to his occupation and just everything he went through from Cat to Hankel to the victims he was just slightly too late to help even though it wasn’t his fault but with (Y/n) he rarely maybe even never gets them and if he does his lover has always been there by his side after. And so the two drifted off in each others embrace just enjoying the time they had together before the next morning they would each be called to their respective jobs. 

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @dreatine - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

Always Been You

It was around 3am when Spencer’s phone awoke him. He recalls it being around 3am rather than a specific time because the sound that greeted him in consciousness was your favourite song, which he had selected as your ringtone, and the fact that you had called him at a time when he had been sleeping meant that he was already far too distracted by thoughts of you to take notice of what the exact time was. For a genius, and for someone who takes as much notice of every little thing as Spencer can, this action alone was enough to give away how head over heels in love with you he was. By the fifth word of the first line of the song, Spencer had answered your call, and before he could utter a word, the sound of your sobs getting caught in your throat caused his entire body to malfunction, reboot, and go on full alert in under a second.

“Spencer...h-he’s gone!” You managed to say before bursting into tears again.

Of course, your best friend on the other end of the phone knew actually who and what you were referring to.

“I’ll be there in five minutes and thirty two seconds, count for me, I’ll stay on the line.” Spencer encouraged as he practically flew out of bed, knowing that his presence and having you count would be two much needed distractions for your state of panic.

“O-Okay.” You answered, while Spencer clumsily shoved his feet into a loose pair of shoes.

“1, 2, 3...” You began, your best friend throwing on a shirt and expertly holding the phone to his ear using his shoulder so that he could hear you, and respond to you immediately if you had any reason to stop counting.

“...9, 10...” And he was out the door, bounding down the hall of his apartment block to the elevator, knowing you needed him more then ever.

“...60, 61, 62...” Spencer had reached his car, and he was reversing out of the parking lot with a determination that made him a force to be reckoned with if any irritable 3am drivers sought to interrupt his journey.

“...116, 117, 118...” He was almost halfway to your apartment and he could hear that your breathing had calmed considerably, your voice quieter in between sniffles.

“Im still here, it’s alright. Keep counting for me, you’ve got this.” Spencer told you, his tone soft as he spoke into the silence left by you pausing your count.

“Thank you.” The words were broken, and so sad, but always grateful, and with that you continued.

Another two minutes passed before Spencer found himself pulling up outside your apartment block. Despite the rush he was in, he did his best to shut his car door quietly, because he knew you liked to have the window open whatever the weather and he didnt want to risk frightening you with a loud noise, even if it was three floors below the room in which you were crying.

“...243, 244, 245...” Your voice spoke in Spencer’s ear as he bounded through the doors of your apartment block.

He stood at the elevator, tapping his foot and jumping on the spit impatiently, before deciding that he couldnt wait the two extra seconds, and he headed for the stairs. By the time he reached your door, Spencer realised that his estimation of how long it would take for him to reach you was a little inaccurate, which again goes to show how much worrying about you really affects him.

“...307, 308, 309...” He was reaching for the spare key hidden on top of your door frame, the one that was reserved just for him.

“...3110, 311, 312, 3-”

And then he was face to face with you, the rest of the number lost to the silence as your eyes met his. Spencer’s gaze focussed only on the image of you, curled up on the floor by the window, wearing a soft pyjama set that he knew to be one of your favourites, in your arms you clutched a picture frame close to your chest, but Spencer couldnt see the picture within it because you had it as near to your heart as you could get it.

Seeing Spencer, you released the picture frame, but it fell against your chest, continuing to conceal whichever photograph you were treasuring. You held your arms out to him, and he knew it was safe for him to run to you without scaring you, so he did just that. Once he was within grabbing distance, you took ahold of his face in your hands, your tearful eyes searching his. Spencer noticed this was something you always did upon being upset in front of him, he never asked why and you never explained, but he realised that in your moments of distress, being able to see that he was alright was reassuring to you, and that warmed his heart. He held your hands against his face, gently tracing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“I overestimated, it only took five minutes and thirteen seconds to get here, Im sorry I made you think it would take longer.” Spencer apologised, his voice careful.

Rather than replying, you simply shook your head, indicating that you saw no reason for him to be sorry, but Spencer was not comforted by your lack of response.

“Talk to me, buttercup.” He used your favourite nickname that only he ever called you, and that was all it took.

Your lip began to tremble, your chin wobbling with it as tears clouded the view of Spencer almost to unrecognisable. Almost. But he knew you so well, and he was quick to assess what you needed as soon as he could; before a single tear fell, you found yourself in his lap, your face in his chest and his arms holding you tightly. You sobbed into his chest, unable to form a single word, and he was smart enough - even when in love - to know that now was not the time to ask questions. Instead, it was the time for comfort, and he was always ready to offer that to you in whatever form you needed. He ran his fingers through your hair, drew patterns on the back of your pyjama shirt with his fingertips, rocked you back and forth in his lap while shushing you gently as your tears soaked through his shirt. It was only then, Spencer glanced around your apartment.

Mess. All he saw was mess. Shelving units had been pushed over, glass ornaments you adored were reduced to shattered pieces in the floor, the wooden table had a hole punched through it and the chairs had been thrown at the walls. If Spencer didnt know enough about the situation already, he would assume that you had been robbed, or someone had attempted to take you. Instead, someone had gotten angry and destroyed the things you worked hard to buy. The ornaments that you never failed to tell Spencer about every time he came over, which all had unique stories of the garage sales or antique auctions you’d found them at. The table and chairs that you had used to treat Spencer to countless homecooked recipes that you had just learnt. Well, you would say countless, Spencer would say 56.

Within the mess, though, Spencer noticed something odd. Not a single picture frame had been taken off the walls, nor had any photograph you displayed on a shelf been damaged. Every picture of you and the man Spencer hated more than anything in the world, was still intact. So what was the photograph that you were still keeping close to your chest?

That wasnt important, not then at least. He needed to get you out of that environment, that was his priority.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight? There’s shattered glass everywhere, it’d take at least another hour to clear it all up until it was safe to walk around, and you need to get some rest.”

All he got in response was a nod against his chest, and that was enough. Without any further questions, Spencer helped you to your feet and then lifted you to carry you bridal style, which he would have done even if you werent barefoot in a room with glass all over the floor. He carried you to your room and gently placed you on the bed, where you sat up and immediately reached for his hand. Squeezing it gently, Spencer gave you a reassuring smile, and you managed the weakest of smiles back. He kept ahold of your hand as he found your over night bag, which he packed with items you would need, each of which he showed you and waited for you to give a nod of approval before he placed them in the bag. Once the bag was packed, Spencer helped you into a pair of shoes and you stood, placing the picture frame face down on your bed while he held out a jacket for you. The photograph was back in your arms as soon as the jacket was on.

On the way back to Spencer’s apartment, he put your playlist on to fill the silence with something he knew you enjoyed, and one of your hands kept ahold of his arm as you stared out of the window in a daze, the picture frame locked under your other arm.

When you arrived at your destination, Spencer opened your door for you and helped you out, sensing that the whole situation had exhausted you substantially. You walked slightly behind him, holding onto his arm, like a child being led back to their room by a grownup after a nightmare, exhausted but kept awake by the fear that loomed over you.

It wasnt the first time you had stayed the night at Spencer’s. Prior to getting into a relationship, sleepovers with your best friend were a regular occurrence, despite spending all day everyday at each other’s sides at work, sometimes that wasnt enough. Sometimes, you both needed your best friend for just a little longer. But that hadnt happened for a long time, for the year and a half you were in a relationship you hadnt visited Spencer at all. He had stayed at your place for dinner multiple times, but you never visited him, always making up an excuse when he tried to invite you over, because unlike you, when Spencer was at your house he had the strength to leave. But as you stepped into his apartment, memories flooded your mind. The countless times you had played boardgames together sat on the floor of his living room, how you’d helped him paint the walls and hang new pictures up, the mass of books he let you borrow from that bookshelf, the dinners and desserts you cooked in that kitchen, and the laughter. The chorus of yours and his laughter sounded faint and distant, but not out of reach.

Spencer led you to his room and opened his closet.

“You can take anything for a change of clothes, and if you’d like to have a shower, it’s all yours. Make yourself at home.”

You smiled weakly. “I’ve missed home.”

Spencer’s face visually fell at the meaning behind your words. This was what you regarded as home, not your own place with your boyfriend of over a year. What Spencer didnt realise was that he had in fact misunderstood you. His apartment want your home, he was.

Once you’d taken a shower, you re-entered Spencer’s room and started flicking through the clothes in his closet. You settled for a shirt that you had seen him wear more times than you could count, it felt the most him, and as soon as you slipped it over your head, his scent enveloped you.

Your best friend knocked on the door lightly, and you called to him to come in, which he did, a small smile on his face. That smile grew exponentially when he saw you wearing his shirt, despite him expecting the sight, nothing could have prepared him for it. Spencer noticed the picture frame that you had left face down on his bed, and he frowned curiously, walking over to it without looking at you. The sound of your heartbeat filled your ears, and as he lifted the frame to turn it over in his hands and see the picture it held, you froze in place. Spencer had expected to see a picture of you and your ex, assuming that you were clinging to a happy memory. The latter was correct, but the happy memory you were clinging to was Spencer’s 27th birthday, three years ago, which consisted solely of a sleepover at your place, bundled up in blankets, just the two of you. It was at the end of the first movie that you pulled out a disposable camera you had bought for the occasion, and the two of you smiled together, laughing slightly at your effort to hide the disposable camera all that time. You had gotten the picture printed large enough to fill a picture frame, which Spencer now held in his hands, staring down at the picture, slightly distorted by the broken glass that sat in front of it. He was about to ask why you had treasured that photograph in particular, but before he could, he heard you sniffle, and Spencer forgot any question he had.

“H-He broke it! Everything that involved you! All of it! E-Everything that made me feel at home.” You blurted out hurriedly, stumbling over your words as tears stung your eyes.

Spencer took two quick strides to reach you and pull you into his arms.

“Why did he do that?” He asked, not understanding why your ex would destroy things that meant so much to you that all specifically linked to him.

“B-Because he knew, he f-figured it out!” You cried, the tears falling freely from your stinging eyes. Spencer gently moves you to his bed and keeps you in his arms as you both lower yourselves to sit on the edge of it, with the photograph on Spencer’s lap. He carefully pulled away from you, just enough to see your face, and the pain on your countenance as you cried broke his heart.

“What did he figure out?” He asked quietly, his curiosity eating him alive.

At first, you didnt answer, you couldnt, the words were too heavy, too full of a meaning that scared you so much. But you knew it was time. The truth had been suffocating you for far too long, and after attempting to distance yourself from it in the hopes it would simply evaporate, you knew the truth was sticking around. So, in the quietest, most vulnerable voice that had ever passed your lips, you told him.

“It’s always been you.”

Spencer’s mind went blank. He was a smart man, a genius, and his extensive knowledge on everything included the art of what it means when things are left unsaid, the weight such short phrases can have. If he had heard this as an outsider, if he wasnt directly involved, he would know exactly what those words meant. But it was you, it was him, and he could not believe that you had intended to say the words he’d been dying to hear.

“What do you mean?”

His question was innocent and curious, but you couldnt help laughing. Of course his mind would short circuit at the one time you didnt want to elaborate. Spencer couldnt help but notice the conflict in his heart at seeing you chuckle through your tears.

“Since the start, it’s always been you. I thought it was simple at first, something I’d just get over, but everyday I got to know you better, everyday I learnt more amazing things from you and about you. You became my favourite person in less than a day, stole my heart the second you introduced yourself, and you had the audacity to hold onto it for all these years. When I met him and there was a shred of a spark, I threw myself at it, desperate to find something that wasnt as doomed as my feelings for you. But it was never going to work. Keeping myself away from you as much as I did only hurt me more, the feelings I had no longer brought excitement and butterflies, instead painful sadness because I was even less likely to have your heart in return for giving you mine. H-He figured it out, he accused me of being in love with you, and when I couldnt deny it... he, he lost it, to say the least. Broke e-everything that reminded him of you. I-I didnt mean to hurt him Spencer, I did love him, I did, but not enough, I could never love anyone else, because it’s you. It’s always been you.”

By the end of your speech, your tears had slowed, and Spencer understood that talking about him in any capacity was enough to calm you, which warmed his heart. Your words were sinking in, slowly, and he processed them so quickly his head was spinning.

“Why did you think your feelings for me were hopeless?” Spencer questioned, that particular sentence not making sense to him.

You shook your head and met his eyes “Really, Spencer? Do you honestly think Im delusional enough to believe I had even a fraction of a chance with you? You’re a perfect genius, and Im just...me.”

It was Spencer’s turn to chuckle. “The only correct thing you just said is that you are you. The only person that laughs at my stupid jokes, the only person to smile and encourage my rants and fact-explosions, the only person to actually like me enough for me to believe it, the only person who makes me light up at the mention of her name, the only person I have ever felt safe enough to give me heart to. You are you, and you, (Y/N), are everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and so, so much more.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Or did it stop completely? You couldnt tell, you were too busy floating up into the clouds, ready to take your place among the stars, because you were glowing just like them. You stared at Spencer, fresh tears filling your eyes, but this time there was no pain in sight. Instead, a wide grin spread across your face, which Spencer reflected back at you. Soon enough, the two of you were laughing, unable to comprehend how ridiculous you had both been to hide your feelings for so long, to go to such extents to distance yourselves, to not just say it. Once you had quietened down, a question hung in the air, an uncertainty regarding what was going to happen next, and you locked eyes, waiting, until...

“So, wanna go on a date sometime?”

[reidscowgirl]

Wet Dreams- Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Summary: Spencer has a wet dream about Y/N

Warnings: smut, idk what else but enjoy

___

Spencer’s POV

I couldn’t help the way my mind traveled to ungodly thoughts of Y/N. Thinking of her writhing underneath me. Thinking of her lips in only the most inappropriate places. I wanted her so bad. I wanted to make her look at us in the mirror as I fuck her from behind.

I began dozing off, images of what could be flashing through my mind. Her arch deep and moans almost pornographic. Her neck and back full of love bites.

“Spencer please don’t tease me.” She cried out as I moved my fingers painfully slow in and out of her. My lips connected to her thigh, sucking at her velvety skin. I inch close to her core, curling my fingers slowly. “Please Spence .” My name leaving her lips sounded more angelic than usual.

I licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit. Her muscles tensed feeling the warmth of my tongue against her heat. “Oh my god, yes.” She moaned as I began to pick up the pace. Her her dainty fingers interlocking with my hair. The noises she made were so pretty.

“Harder please.” She begged. I began to push my fingers into her with a little more force. Her little whimpers turning into loud cries. “God, fuck Spencer please make me cum.” She pleaded. Her hands tugging at my hair gently. A groan emitted from my throat feeling the light sting of my hair being pulled. Her cunt began to pulse around my fingers and her thighs began to squeeze with my head still buried between them.

“Holy fuck!” She whimpered, her hips bucking involuntarily. Her juices oozing out of her pulsing snatch. A smile formed on my face as we locked eyes.

___

I couldn’t believe she was able to take me that far down her throat. I loved the feeling of her lips wrapped around me. God I love the way she’d look at me when she’d take me as far as she could.

“Fucking take it Y/N, holy shit. I’m so close.” I was starting to loose balance. My whimpers escaping as I came close to the edge. My vision spotty.

“I’m cumming, fuck.” I pushed her head back as her lips suck on the tip. My juices spurting all over.

___

Her arch was deep allowing me to hit spots deep inside her. Her whimpers echoing through the dark room. “You like that princess?” I whisper just below her ear. Her fists balled up in the sheets.

She moaned out an ‘mhm’ before my hands found their way to her chest.

“Aww come on baby use your words.” My hips came to a halt. I wanted nothing more than to hear her wails of pleasure. She ground her hips against mine, trying to get herself to her high.

“Please Spencer, please move.” I did as asked, fucking myself into her at a quick pace. I pushed her face deep into the mattress. Her screams loud and satisfying. Her body shaking rapidly and her back arching up as she squirmed under me.

“Fuck, Yes.” She whimpered dragging the ‘s’ a look of satisfaction written on her face. She was completely spent under me and I just enjoyed the tired smile spreading on her face. Her walls still fluttering from her release, squeezing me each time. My hips came to a stop letting my high take over my body.

“Holy fuck.” I groaned out collapsing next to her.

“Spencer! Spence wake up.”

[iwritefandomimagines]

No One Better

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: you’re bubbly and personable, and spencer has always adored that about you. but when an officer seems to be getting a little too comfortable with you, he worries he may not be enough anymore.

warnings: angst, cursing, fluff, suggestive language

That smile of yours always made Spencer feel weak.

There was nothing he loved more than watching you thrive doing what you love, working hard but always making sure everyone around you was okay and comfortable.

But this case made Spencer feel worried.

One officer on the case seemed to be personally impacted by its events, and you’d been taking extra care to ensure he could do his job without too much of a mental health impact upon him. 

But it was clear as day that this officer was a little too comfortable, and a little too attracted to you. Spencer was used to you having all eyes on you, and he couldn't complain because he couldn’t blame them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the way that bastard had the audacity to keep touching your fucking arm, rubbing at the bare skin with the pad of his thumb.

“Y’know, glaring holes into him won’t do shit,” Derek raised his eyebrow at him, “Just go over there and subtly join in the conversation. You can’t exactly be all over Y/N at work, but it’s better than staring.”

Spencer swallowed thickly, nodding his head. Derek was right, he wasn’t going to make things any better simply by getting increasingly upset by the exchange from afar.

“You’re right.”

He rose to his feet, picking up the bundle of files he'd been ‘looking at’ so that he had an easy excuse to go over to you, “Y/N,” he greeted, brushing Officer Michaels’ hand off your arm as he curled his own super loosely around the edge of your waist, “I’ve finished looking over these files, figured I could use a second opinion?”

You smirked, immediately able to detect the jealousy seeping from Spencer.

“Oh but Officer Michaels was just telling me about-,”

“That’s great, but this is important,” he quirked his brow, “I--uh, I need your help.”

You bit your lip, smiling at him teasingly and twirling a strand of your hair around your index finger, “If it’s that important, darling.”

He nodded briskly, “It is.”

“Sorry officer,” you turned to Officer Michaels, “See you in a bit.”

You followed Spencer to a quiet side office as he ran his fingers through his hair frustratedly, “Spence, is something wrong?”

He let out a deep sigh and you frowned, realising that he was upset jealous, “I’m sorry baby, Michaels just kept talking and I—,”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” his voice was low, “I just wasn’t comfortable watching his hands all over you.”

You gulped, shutting the blinds of the office and leaning into him, “I’m sorry, Spence. He was just being friendly, and I wasn’t flirting with him... You know I love you too much to ever even consider that.”

He shook his head, “You never see it, Y/N. You can never see it.”

You were perplexed, and traced your hand up from where it sat on his arm to rest it on his jawline, “See what?”

“The way every pair of eyes in a room is always on you,” he whispered, “I can’t blame anyone, you’re... you’re incredible. But when people like Michaels,” he practically spat his name, “Get too comfortable with you I don’t-- I don’t like it. And you can never seem to see what they’re doing.”

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Spencer, sweetheart. I don’t see any of it because none of it matters to me. I don’t see when anyone else is interested because I can’t even fathom the idea of ever wanting anyone but you. None of it matters because it’s only ever you on my mind.”

Spencer pondered your words briefly, “I know that, Y/N, and I trust you more than anything but... I worry. I’m so awkward, we spend all our time together stressed and working and... What if one of them assholes really is better for you? What if you realise that you could do better?”

“Baby,” you frowned, delicately cupping his face in your palms still, “There is no one better.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. I mean, statistically--,”

“Fuck statistics, boy genius,” you shook your head, “I’m head over heels in love with you. You make the job less stressful, you’re the only person I’d want to be with 24/7 like we are, and you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re the love of my life, Spence. You must know that there’s nobody else I’d ever want. Nothing will change that. But your feelings are important to me, so I’ll make sure I’m conscious. I don’t ever want you to feel insecure.”

There was silence for a moment as he took in your words.

Tenderly he removed your hands from his face, interlocking them with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your thumb. “I love you, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you and I--I don’t ever want to take that for granted. I’m sorry for getting jealous I just can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“You never will.”

“I know that, I do,” he nodded, pulling you to his chest and embracing you tightly. He kissed the top of your head ever so gently, “I love you so much, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, kissing him chastely and flashing him a grin, “I’ll never get tired of hearing you tell me that, Spence.”

He pulled you in for a deeper kiss, “I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

You giggled, deepening the kiss even further as you dragged your tongue across his lower lip. He parted his lips quickly in response, drawing in a deep breath as your bodies melded closer together.

“Now c’mon, pretty boy,” you pulled back for just a second, a seductive drawl in your tone, “Let’s get back to work so I can take you home and show you that there’s no one I want more than you.”

He smirked, licking his lips before kissing you quickly.

“Noted, gorgeous. Let’s go.”

----

thanks for reading! i’m so grateful for all the new readers and followers lately & i'm so grateful for all of your feedback too !! I hope you enjoyed, here’s my masterlist and my prompt list too, feel free to request! 

[reidjumpers]

would you ever write something along the line of the minimal loss episode reimagined. so instead of emily being in the ep it’s the reader and spence has the biggest crush on her. it kills him knowing that she’s getting hit and bruised. yeah i don’t know if you would do it but i love that idea.

GUESS WHAT I really love this idea too so I tried to rewrite Minimal Loss reimagined. Please emphasize on tried.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?”

Spencer could feel his blood run cold at the question Benjamin Cyrus fired at him and you. He subtly glanced towards your direction, pressing his lips and tried his best to maintain his composure. He watched you shift on your seat a little bit, eyeing the gun on Cyrus’s hand intensely.

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in faux confusion.

“God will forgive me for what I must do,” Cyrus said calmly. Too calmly. Spencer gulped as he heard the clicking sound of his gun. He caught the sight of you gaping and eyes widened in horror as a gun aimed against his head.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“One of you does. Who is it?”

“Me,” your voice was firm, slicing through the thick tension. Spencer slowly turned his head towards you with a wide eye. You glared at him with an eye that screamed don’t you dare at him, determination and fear swirled together in your eyes made him shiver. He could feel dread and helplessness slowly sinking in. “It was me.”

Cyrus lowered his gun that aimed at Spencer, slowly turned his direction towards you. Spencer shot you a glare and silently demanded you for explanation at your stupid sacrifice. You had just deflated your own fear and bargained for your safety in order to save him. There was a bitter taste curled and overwhelmed him at the tip of his tongue upon knowing he couldn’t do anything to diffuse the situation.

Spencer let his shoulder sink a little bit as Cyrus silently holstered his gun into his pants, allowing himself a brief relief upon knowing that he didn’t have to watch your demise today. It took everything inside him not to jump and inserted himself in between you and Cyrus as he yanked you to the ground by hair and a sound of your pained whimper filled the room. He couldn’t even bring himself to flinch when a rifle aimed towards him as his eyes fixated on the sight of you being dragged across the room.

“I told you not to put me in this position!” Cyrus snarked, releasing his hold on you and slammed you to the concrete floor. Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and could feel the tip of his fingertips go frozen as dread and fear pumped rapidly into his system.

The sound of you being slapped filled the room made him flinch a little bit. He glanced briefly towards the rifle against him, giving him a brief break from the horrifying sight before him. Spencer could feel anger and disappointment filled him with the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything besides watching you being beaten mercilessly by Cyrus. It was supposed to be him. It was supposed to be him who took all the beating instead of you. You were everything good left in the world and you are a living reminder that there are lights and hope in life despite all the horror and worst face of humanity he was constantly being contaminated with.

What would he do if you were gone then? The brief horrifying thought flashed before his eyes as he watched Cyrus slammed your defenseless body into the ground again. He could feel hot tears prickling in his eyes at the thought of living his life in void and helplessness if you ceased to exist before his eyes. Spencer collapsed his balled fist into his lap as the realization that he couldn’t live without you washed through him.

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut as your body was slammed against the wall and hit the mirror, refusing to picture the sharp shard of glass cutting your skin.

“Proverb 23rd tells us that bloods and wounds cleanse out evil,” Cyrus recited as he yanked you by the collar again and slammed you against the wall. Spencer could feel anger and disdain boiled inside him as he watched your body helplessly fall into the floor after the impact of your collision with the wall.

“I can take it,” you said with a firm voice. Spencer caught your eyes briefly as your eyes flickered in between him and Cyrus that stood in between you and him.

His heart fell into the bottom of his stomach like a heavy sandbag. He knew what you meant from your firm stares alone. You only said that to reassure him and signal the team outside not to come in a rush. It was a minimal loss situation, Spencer had concluded. He drew a sharp breath as he mentally prepared himself for a situation where he couldn’t possibly save everyone and had to accept however many people he could save while others perished.

Spencer glanced up to meet your eyes again before Cyrus moved to block his sight. He furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of your eyes screaming I’m fine, I’m okay at him with blood flowing freely from your broken nose. Dread settled painfully in his bones that the possibility of the team having to choose between your life or his was too close than he liked.

He blinked his eyes to shoo away the tears that threatened to fall. He couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t risk blowing up another cover that guaranteed his life when you had sacrificed yours for him.

Cyrus beat and slapped you for another round with disdain painted clearly on his face. “Pride comes before the fall,” he said as he punched your stomach and slammed you to the floor, thinking you were antagonizing him as you repeatedly said you could take it. Spencer let out a relieved sigh as Cyrus took a step back from you and left you shaking with pain on the ground, instructed Cristopher to tie you up and took you upstairs.

Not today, he reassured himself. Forcing himself to be satisfied and grateful for your spared life. Not today.

***

Spencer had just successfully coaxed Cyrus into testing the negotiator for the FBI and proving them that they were not a liar and ensuring your safety. Disgust and anger brewing at the pit of his stomach every time Cyrus glanced his eyes towards him. He somewhat marveled at the plain trust Cyrus gave him effortlessly. The memory of him beating you hadn’t left his mind, still painted fresh and clear as if it still happened before his eyes. He had to mentally restrain himself from glaring in disgust at the thought of Cyrus molesting a child and beating you up until bloody and bruised.

“What is it, Christopher?” Cyrus addressed his man that had been trying to shot down Spencer’s suggestion regarding the situation. Only then Spencer turned his attention fully at him who had been pacing around in agitation repeatedly.

“Some of them had been talking about leaving,” he sighed.

“Leaving?” Cyrus pressed his lips together as Christopher affirmed his question. Spencer balled his fist and hid it inside the pocket of his pants as he waited in antagonizing anticipation with whatever next step Cyrus would take. “Wake the baby. Let’s get them meet the orphan that they made.”

Spencer nodded mutely at Cyrus’s decision. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding this whole time, letting himself loose a little bit and allowed himself to feel relief washed through him. Cyrus had taken the big bait and he had ensured your safety with his lies and negotiation skill. It was the least thing he could do after what you did for him.

He knew he would be damned if he couldn’t get you out of his god forsaken place alive. For now he just has to give and surrender with whatever fate is waiting for him into the hands of the team waiting outside. He took one longing glance outside from the window, wishing that he would be staring into the starless sky with you right now.

***

Spencer watched from the back silently as the members of the cult filled the empty chair inside the chapel one by one. What was once an empty and quiet chapel now buzzing with life and the air was stale and raked with fear. The negotiation test went as smoothly as Spencer could wished for. He heard Rossi rattling out your identity to Cyrus in exchange for your safety from a speaker phone as they released the orphan into the team outside.

You emerged from the opposite end of the chapel, a swarm of children and women pushed through from behind you. Spencer stared and watched the way the sunlight that slips through the chapel window fell into your skin. The glowing sunlight from behind your back casted a halo behind your figure. He noticed that your blood had been cleaned up and there were a few specks of dried blood on the collar of your shirt. Some newly formed bruises littered your face, angry and red and was a painful sight to behold. He hated it.

Cyrus was listing out names from the list he had written the day before as Spencer slowly made his way towards you. Everyone’s attention was focused on their leader calling out the names on the altar, but Spencer’s focus was solely on you. Your eyes were watching Cyrus solemnly as you leaned yourself into the wall to support your weight.

Spencer lifted his hand to touch your face and stopped midair before he realized a tad bit too late. His finger twitched painfully with a burning desire to feel you underneath his fingertips, but he couldn’t risk another round of beating and blowing up plans that had been rolling quite smoothly so far.

Guilt surged inside him like the sea, disdain and bitterness brewing and threatening to explode from the bottom of his stomach. He could feel himself dying a little bit inside at the frightening state you were in, all because you were sacrificing your life for him. For his sake when he wasn’t even sure he deserved it.

You finally acknowledged his presence and spared him a glance. Your eyebrows furrowed together in distress and Spencer had to restrain himself from the temptation to put his thumb in between your eyebrows and smoothen out your stress wrinkle between your eyebrows. If he could take away all your pain, he would.

“He looks pissed,” you whisper-yelling at him. Spencer couldn’t bring himself to respond to your words. Even after you took the downfall and hard beatings for him, you still think about other’s well-being instead of yours.

You took another glance towards him from the lack of response from his part. Your eyes scanned his face briefly before your lips twitched into a soft, reassuring smile. “I’m okay. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Spencer shook his head, refusing to believe your words. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked, his voice hoarse and full of regret scratching his throat painfully.

“No, no,” you shook your head and quickly squashed his apology. “No apologies. We both know one of us has to take it.”

“But why should it be you?” Spencer hissed through his greeted teeth. His distress and agitation, and overall emotions that he had been trying to tuck and buried it away seeped into the surface. He could feel his mask cracking and threatened to be broken, and he was thankful for the roaring voice of Cyrus listing out names that masked his own. “Why should it be you? Why couldn’t it be me?”

“He had a gun against your head, Reid!” you hissed back with an equal amount of emotions laced on your voice. “I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t let them kill you. I know they would kill you first if one of us refused to answer. I can’t, Spencer, I—” you took a sharp breath and glanced away from his prying wide eyes. He could hear your voice wavering and your eyes glossed with tears. “Look at the people he’s releasing.”

“It’s the one who failed the loyalty test,” he observed. The previous slip of emotions was being put to the back of his mind again as he noticed the new fact he just found. “I’ll get word to the team, wait for the sign from outside indicating what time the raid will come.”

You stared at him with a wide eye, confusion and fear swirled together. You looked so vulnerable and small like that, like a polished porcelain that could crumble into dust anytime. Spencer nodded firmly and gave you a reassuring smile, silently asking you to believe him. He almost jolted with surprise when you grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly and briefly, understanding what he was trying to do.

“Be careful,” you whispered.

He nodded and turned away to make his way to Cyrus, not believing himself to utter any single words without breaking down. He was determined to make sure you were safe and would make it out alive, whatever it takes.

“Told her she shouldn’t have blinded you like that,” Spencer told Cyrus with a faux exasperation and disappointment. He shuddered when Cyrus nodded sympathetically.

“To either of us,” he corrected him sympathetically, which made Spencer want to do nothing but curl up in disgust. Cyrus jerked his chin towards your direction and addressed Christopher, “Bring her back.”

Spencer watched you being dragged up by your upper arms into wherever they were keeping you. He forcefully gulped and shook away the lump of dread on his throat, disbanding it as soon as it was formed. His eyes were apologetic and yours were nothing but filled with determination and forced bravery.

Those who had failed for the test were ushered out of the farm through the front door. Spencer mentally counted the amount of people who walked out into a guaranteed safety, relieved that it held a much greater amount that he had prepared. It was only a matter of saving the rest and finding a way in for the team to bring you and him out of this place.

Cyrus was making his final and last negotiation call with Rossi, asking for a fried chicken and its sides for their last supper and the presence of media to document his sacrifice to God. A suicide attempt to bring down himself and his faithful fanatic followers was a more appealing option to him rather than surrender himself to the authority apparently. It was obvious from the first time Spencer stepped into the building, but it still didn’t fail to fill him with dread and fear.

“I’m always looking for signs of things to come,” Spencer explained to Christopher with a polite smile after he demanded how he had known Cyrus’s plan of final act of sacrifice all along. He maintained his gaze firmly and silently wishing that the team would catch his words through the parable microphone planted outside. It would be his only hope and way for them to come in.

***

Thick smog and fire blinded his sight and blocked his way. Spencer stumbled upon a block of brunt wooden log as Morgan dragged his limping body outside the chapel. Cyrus was dead, but Jesse had finished his suicide mission by blowing up the chapel and the rest of the building. He could hear sirens blaring outside and faint sounds of wails and fearful screams mixed together in the air.

The thought of you trapped inside the building flashed before his eyes for a moment. He didn’t have a moment to glance back to make sure about your whereabouts as he kept coughing and stumbling, Morgan’s grip still firm on his upper hand to drag him outside into safety. Fear started to paralyze his body that he nearly fell into the concrete fall face first. He just needed to see you, to make sure you were safe.

He didn’t know that the sight of armed soldiers and police cars could bring an immense amount of comfort for him. Spencer nearly cried at the overwhelming relief that he was out unharmed, slipped by the last strand of his hair from his ultimate demise. But he couldn’t allow himself to be relieved and comfortable before he knew where you were. Before he knew if you were safe.

“Spencer!” your voice came faintly in between the chaotic sirens and the sound of angry fire eating up the chapel. “Morgan!”

Spencer watched you squirm out of Emily’s embrace, running limpy towards him. He knew he had burst into tears as soon as his eyes landed on you, safe, alive, although littered with bruises and dried blood on your shirt. His shoulders sank and shook as your arms wrapped around him tightly, all the horror, fear, and dread that he didn’t allow himself to feel in the past few days before had rushed into him and knocked all the air out of his lungs.

Relief and comfort of knowing you were safe in his arms was a breath of fresh air for his burned lungs. Usually he would squirm at the thought of touching someone, but the steady rise of your chest as you breath against him overcame all the unfortunate uncomfortable thoughts that came with the activity of hugging someone.

“You’re safe,” Spencer gasped as he released you from his embrace. He was aware that everyone was watching him hugging you and he fought all the mortification that slowly crept up his cheeks. He tried to mask it away as being a relief to find his coworker made it out alive from the sticky hostage situation.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you reassured him with one last firm squeeze on his arms. He wanted nothing but to pull you into his arms again, shield you for any harms lurking in the outside world. The anger that had been forgotten on the back of his mind surged inside him again. But he had to be satisfied with only one final squeeze as you parted from him to be checked by the paramedics.

The flight back to Quantico was quiet and a peaceful one. Everyone was winding up and breathing from the horror of the case that just wrapped up. Spencer tried his best to distract his mind with his book, burrowed in the furthest corner of the jet as the comforting and steady hum of the jet lulled him to sleep.

You slipped into the empty seat right across from him. A weak smile and a timid greeting were exchanged between you and silence followed right after. Spencer knew what conversation would follow after this, and he didn’t want to face it just yet. He had stopped reading from the moment you took the seat and watched him with careful eyes, but he still put up the act in the hope it would steer you away from bursting his bubble.

It did not. Spencer didn’t put up a fight as you gently took his book away from his hands and placed it gently on the table.

“I need you to listen to me,” you started with a firm voice. You were wearing the nice lilac shirt that Spencer liked, and the bruises on your face had started to heal and fade away. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault. It was my decision and I would do it again.”

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you tilted your head with your lips pressing together, discouraging him to counter your statement. He took a sharp breath and shook his head.

“Do you hear me?” your voice was softer this time. Your hands silently reached for his and held them gently. Your thumb made a soothing pattern on his knuckles, a reassuring and determined smile was on your face. Spencer couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. “Do you hear me, Spencer? I will do it again. It wasn’t your fault. It was my decision.”

“I know,” he answered finally.

“Thank you.”

“Please know that I will do the same for you.”

His words had caught you off guard. You stared briefly before nodding, patting the top of his hand gently with your hand as you gave him a really bright smile. Spencer let himself sink further into the comfortable leather seat and let relief washed through him again. Everything will be okay.