#Spencer’s vault | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auroralwriting · 2 months

Note

spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?

guilty as sin

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)

you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist

"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.

It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.

The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.

"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"

Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."

"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.

Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.

"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.

You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.

"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"

"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."

You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."

Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."

"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.

"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.

Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.

You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.

Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.

And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.

"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."

Spencer hummed, "I haven't."

Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.

"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.

"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.

You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"

Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."

A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.

"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.

"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.

"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.

The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.

Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.

Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.

Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.

It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.

A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.

“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.

He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”

Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”

“You, I just want you.”

That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.

“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”

With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.

“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.

You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.

Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”

Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.

“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.

The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need more,” you replied.

“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.

You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”

Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”

Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”

“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”

“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“Good, so good,” You babbled.

His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”

“Yes, yes!” You moaned.

Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.

It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“There?” He asked.

“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.

Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.

“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.

You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”

Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.

“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.

“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.

He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.

Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”

“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”

You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”

“Where?” He asked.

“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.

“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.

The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”

“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”

Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”

You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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kiss-inthekitchen · 7 months

Text

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room.

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off.

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not.

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night.

That is, until you opened the door.

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said.

“Sure looks that way.”

"At least it's a queen?"

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time.

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began.

"I mean, I guess I don't really–"

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–"

"–mind as long as you–"

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement.

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be.

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window.

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.”

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.”

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team.

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it.

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep.

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still.

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke.

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind.

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers.

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right.

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that.

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again.

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you.

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together.

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell.

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal.

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot.

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation.

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.”

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him.

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Sorry,” you managed.

“For what?”

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.”

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.”

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further.

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.”

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!”

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.”

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.”

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.”

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him.

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat.

“You just said ass.”

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.”

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.”

“I knew you’d agree.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed.

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting.

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed.

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep.

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what?

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black.

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?!

“Hey, you okay?”

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.”

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well.

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.”

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand.

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated.

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way.

“You were on my pillow, by the way.”

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him.

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.”

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again.

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back.

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest.

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious.

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing.

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?”

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.”

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer.

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.”

“Don’t profile me.”

“I’m not. I just know you.”

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.”

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.”

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.”

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.”

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip.

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.”

“I told you to stop profiling me.”

This time, he just hummed in response.

“And so what if I stuttered?”

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.”

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list.

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–”

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed.

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.”

“That all makes total sense.”

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved.

“Now tell me the rest of it.”

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well.

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and–

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream.

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent.

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing.

“Yes.”

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word.

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it.

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry.

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–”

“It is.”

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.”

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.”

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back.

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you.

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked.

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.”

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.”

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed.

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.”

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?”

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.”

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.”

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.”

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.”

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you.

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed.

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside.

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again.

“Okay, was it just me, or–”

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed.

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?”

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless.

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.”

“Well, you kissed me.”

“I did.”

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed.

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.”

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.”

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.”

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.”

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist.

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it.

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.”

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer.

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages.

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.”

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.”

“You’re such an ass.”

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up.

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you.

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker.

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left.

You text back: okay?

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night.

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face.

You: what did u say?

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first.

You: i think u should say yes, obviously.

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded.

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success.

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you.

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;)

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh.

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask.

Shit.

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat.

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you?

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate??

Spencer: Yes

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace.

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn.

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth.

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed.

#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it #spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #my fics

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januaryembrs · 4 months

Note

Hi! May I have a hot chocolate with Aaron Hotchner and a splash of angst please?

OVERPROTECTIVE | Aaron Hotchner x Reader

description: keeping your relationship with your boss is difficult when he gets so damn overprotective

length: 2.5k (Em doesn't know how to go small on things)

warnings: mention of a knife? mention of feeling sick? mention of a wound?

“Sit down, Agent,” His voice was a growl that made you stop loading up your gun, Emily and Derek freezing in their seats to witness the catfight when they caught the heated glare exchanged between the two of you. Your fingers paused on the cartridge, clicking it into the ammunition vault before switching your glock onto the safety, turning to face your boyfriend with a sneer on your face.

“Agent?” You tested the water with a raised brow, seeing if he would double down with his attitude once he seemed to have realised he had crossed some sort of line with his words.

“Prentiss and Morgan are going after the suspect, I want you here with Reid mapping out the geographical profile,” He ordered his teams, though you were quick to catch how he couldn’t meet your eyes as he turned to Dave, his fingers fixing his cuffs the way he did when he was thinking about something, “Dave, I want you with JJ at hostage negotiation, he still has the girls and might not be willing to give them up so easily-”

“Surely we’d be more use in the field, I mean, we’ve gotten pretty much everything out of the profile that we can.” Reid tried to point out, only for Hotch to turn to him with a scathing frown.

“Is there something wrong with the orders I’ve given, Reid?” Aaron asked, his tone particularly cold, and Spencer was quick to look flustered, ever the teachers pet who loathed being told off.

“N-no I just thought,” He spluttered, quickly packing up his files as Hotch gave him a sharp look, “We’ll stay here, it’s fine,”

Your Unit Chief barely acknowledged him as he huffed, turning and heading for his office, “Wheels up in ten,”

But you weren’t going to let him slip away that easily, especially not with an attitude like that.

“Baby girl, think about what you’re doing here,” Morgan tried to call as you paced after him, your expression ruthless as you stalked behind the man, “Starting a fight with the boss is not going to win you any favours, sweetheart,”

Except he wasn’t just your boss, only they didn’t know that.

Aaron could tell you were hot on his heels even without hearing Morgan’s desperate attempt to help. To them, it must look like one of their colleagues was about to make a huge misjudgement on just how harsh their boss could be when he wanted to. Every single one of the BAU had gone head to head with Aaron at some point, it was only natural for eight people who spent day in, day out with one another, but not one of them had left the interaction feeling good about themselves.

As a boyfriend, Aaron was almost a complete antithesis of who he was at work. His words were butter smooth, his touch gentle as lace, his heart surprisingly tender for a man who had seen the worst humanity had to offer. And he respected you, he was kind, he was soft and mallowed out, and it had started bleeding into his demeanour at work in the five months you’d been dating. He’d come to work with a skip in his step, you showing up around five minutes later now you guys had coordinated sitting in his car for a little longer to avoid suspicion. Aaron seemed to find your eyes in moments of worry, and it usually only took a small smile or a passing touch of your hands that could easily be explained as an accident to calm him down.

But he had changed last week, when an UnSub had managed to catch your shoulder with a knife.

It was a surface scratch, nothing a few stitches and a dose of painkillers hadn’t cleared up, and you could already feel the scab peeling off, but since then Aaron had been stiflingly overbearing at work.

You shut the door behind you, already seeing the way he rubbed at his temple with calloused hands, and you knew the sigh was coming even before you heard it, low and tired, like he didn’t want this argument here.

“What the hell was that?” You said, your tone clipped as you stared furiously at his broad shoulder blades where he still had his back to you, “Spencer did nothing wrong, he was just trying to help, and he’s totally right, we’d be so much more use with Morgan and Prentiss-”

“If you have an issue with how I run my unit, you can take it up with Strauss,” Aaron snapped, barely looking over his shoulder, “Until then, I expect my orders to be followed, agent,”

You crossed your arms over your chest, and he knew by the way you’d gone quiet you were staring daggers at him. Taking a shaking breath, he looked at you finally, and felt his resolve crumble almost immediately when he saw how truly seething you were. So much so he didn’t even catch the hurt in your expression until you began speaking.

“Is it just ‘agent’, now?” You asked, your voice cracking as you swallowed quickly, “It’s not honey, or love, or sweetheart? Or is that only when you want the girlfriend version of me.”

Aaron stopped, whatever witted and crass remark that had about to fly out of his mouth vanishing, and he wished the rest of the team would just clear out of the floor, because he wanted nothing more than to pull you in for a tight hug and tell you in every way he thought possible that he was sorry he was being so cruel.

But he couldn’t. Because he could feel their eyes on the two of you from here. Here he had to be SSA Aaron Hotchner. Here he couldn’t protect you when creeps were coming at you with knives or stalking women who could easily be your twin. Here he had to stop himself from being so pliant under your touch.

“You know why I can’t,” He said coldly, his eyes begging and weak, yet they were the only thing that gave him away. His jaw was tense and his brows furrowed, and to anyone else on the floor it looked like he was giving you a stern talking to.

Except you just scowled, “Can’t be my boyfriend or can’t stop worrying that something is going to happen to me in the field?” You said, and his lips pressed together tightly, because sometimes he hated not being the only one in the relationship that was a profiler. Of course you knew what it was about, you’d seen it in his face when the two of you were being intimate and he caught sight of the bandage, how he’d been completely distracted and tense for the rest of the evening, “That’s what this is about, right? All of this for a tiny cut on my shoulder that’s going to be gone within a week?”

“Two inches to the right and that guy could slashed your throat,” He snapped, the truth a sore spot for him, and you shook your head, throwing your hands up in despair.

“How many hits have you taken, Aaron, huh?” You bit back, and he ground his teeth for lack of response, “It’s an occupational hazard, it’s not a big deal, I mean Reid and Penelope have taken bullets for us, I just think you’re being a little overprotective here,”

“I can’t lose you, can you not see that?” He snarled back, his voice rising so high with his frustration he felt his cheeks warm, and in a split second he looked like a wounded animal stuck in a bear trap, cornered and scared and waiting on the inevitable.

Your mouth dropped in guilt, the fight dying out of your chest because you got it then, you got it why he was being so defensive. He was too slow to stop something from happening to Hayley, and here, right in front of him, was his sparkly new girlfriend risking her life like that wouldn’t be anyone’s worst nightmare.

You felt terrible, and judging by the way he seemed to bite the inside of his cheek, he did too. Perhaps for shouting at you, perhaps just for being too intense for a relatively new relationship, but before you could attempt to come to an understanding, Spencer opened the door, his eyes shooting between the two of you as the silence became a medium for your tension.

“Rossi wants to know if you guys are ready to head out?” He asked sheepishly, waiting for another snarl of anger from his boss, only to see Hotch looking more like he had a sour gummy shoved in his mouth as he avoided all eye contact.

“We’re staying to do the profile, Spence,” You said solemnly, and he seemed to not want to poke at a sleeping bear, nodding and leading the two of you out to the drawing board, flicking one last look at Aaron where he was sorting some files around his desk, most likely looking for something to keep his shaking hands busy.

Sighing, you closed the door behind you and tried to ignore the pain in your shoulder.

–

He thinks you’ve probably caught the subway home with Spencer by the time they get back. The sixth floor is quiet, his bag heavy with the reports he could easily leave for Monday morning, except he wants to take his mind off the fight the two of you had. He cuts through the middle of the desks, Emily’s coffee cold and stale, Spencer’s cardigan stranded on his chair. He thinks about how he could show the youngest agent he’s sorry, because he shouldn’t have snapped like that, shouldn’t have made him feel small just because you were so totally in the right to be looking at him like that.

He was immediately confronted with your coat and bag when he opened the door to his office, the two of them leaning against his filing cabinet like they were waiting for him, and he thought it was strange until he saw the culprit, or more so saw your shoes placed neatly under the sofa, your socked feet peeking over the end of the cushions.

His gaze trailed to your face, calm and smoothed out, like he hadn’t seen the way a frown marred your face that moment he’d left the office as you’d been consulting the giant map he’d pinned up in the round table room. You were fast asleep, one hand tucked beneath your head as a pillow, your knees squishing out to accommodate your body on the two-seater.

Aaron drew a deep breath, gently sliding his bag off his shoulder and letting it sit on the floor beside your shoes, his hand immediately reaching for your calf with a gossamer soft embrace, his fingers squeezing you lightly and dancing up the length of your leg up to your hip. His other hand found home on your head, caressing the roots of your hair as he murmured your name.

He said it again, a little louder, when you didn’t stir, and it was only then that your eyes fluttered behind your lids. Blinking slowly in the low light of his office, his desk lamp the only source of beige glow, you smiled on instinct when you saw his brown, puppy-dog stare, kicked and hurt as he looked down at you.

Which was when it came back to you in a shooting pain, the last time you’d spoken, the tone and formality, as if he didn’t know you at all outside of these four walls.

“You waiting for me?” He asked, his hand continuing its rhythm over your crown, and you nodded under his attentive gaze.

“I didn’t want to go home alone, I wanted to make sure we were okay, and I knew you’d come here,” You said, and he smiled with an exhausted expression like he had the weight of the world bearing down on his back.

“Of course we’re okay, honey,” He replied, his hand migrating from your waist to grab your knuckles, bringing them to his dry lips to kiss softly. He sighed softly, looking down to where your fingers meshed together, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Or Reid. But especially not you,”

You let go of his rough fingers to bring a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently so he would look at you with those mournful noir hues.

“Aaron, I’m gonna get bruised sometimes. This probably won’t be the last time, and it probably won’t be the worst one either,” He grit his teeth like the thought of it being even deeper, in an even more lethal spot, made him physically ill, “But I need you to trust in me, trust that I’m going to do everything to come home to you at the end of the day, the same way you do everything to come back to me. Alright?”

Aaron sighed, leaning in to press his forehead to yours as you nudged your nose against his.

“You make it so difficult for me to think straight when I’m meant to be your boss, you know that?” He murmured, and there was something boyishly teasing in his tone as he did so, so much so you smiled with him. Leaning in, you kissed him softly on the mouth, your hand moving to the back of his head to pull him closer

“You will apologise, won’t you? For hurting Spencer’s feelings,” You implored, breaking away from the embrace for a moment, until Aaron tried to dodge your question by kissing over your jaw. But you stood your ground, despite the fact you felt your eyes fluttering in pleasure, “Aaron, he’s sensitive,”

“First thing Monday morning, I promise,” He said, though you half guessed it was just to please you, since he was already aiming for your neck, his hand grazing the hem of your shirt.

“So, I know we’re in work, but I take it this is boyfriend Aaron I have now,” He hummed in confirmation, your skin pliant and warm under his lips, and he caught the splutter in your breath when he kissed your jugular the way you liked, “Okay well seeing as you’re boyfriend Aaron, I got to tell you, honey, my boss was being a total worms-for-brains today,”

Aaron stopped, drawing away to look you in the face where you hid a snicker, and he quickly found the humour in it too as his fingers gripped around your stomach, “Oh, so it’s like that is it?”

You went to say something in rebuttal, only to feel his hands quickly start tickling your stomach, and you squealed in protest, grabbing at his wrists in an attempt to stop him. But it was no use. Aaron’s laughs, tired and groaning as they were, filled his office, and yours quickly symphonied them.

You didn’t even get a chance to tell him that Spencer definitely, definitely knew you two were dating.

#Aaron Hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotchner fanficion

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leonspretty · 16 days

Text

“slut!”

spencer had never told the team he had a girlfriend, never mind what her job was

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tags: fem! reader, no y/n, reader is a stripper (not explicit), based on a tiny scene but idk what ep or season, fluff!

notes: i was watching spencer clips and i saw the scene of him from i think season 6 where he and Emily were in a strip club asking questions. Then I was listening to slut! by taylor and thought i could make this work somehow. this isnt me calling strippers sluts btw!!! i just know some guys who have called them sluts and i love the chorus of this song and figured i could make it into something.

wc: 1,468

“And if they call me a slut, You know it might be worth it for once” — Taylor Swift's "Slut!" (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

He honestly hadn't meant for his team to find out about you through him spilling about your job. He also hadn't meant to keep you as a secret but with the continuous cases recently, he hadn't had much chance to tell them about you.

Spencer asking the witness if her boyfriend had a problem with her job wasn't judgemental, it was a question they needed to ask, and he knew how some men reacted to finding out their girlfriends were strippers, you had told him enough stories from your own experiences to support this.

"It's how we met, so no. Why? Do you have a problem with it?"

"No I don't, actually my girlfriend is in the same line of work and also I'm from Vegas so-" He stopped his ramble early at Emily's pointed look. He had assumed it was because he was starting to ramble, but her look of, 'we need to talk' told him it was because of this new fact about him that she didn't know. Luckily, she dropped it for now and the rest of the talk went smoothly. The subject of a girlfriend wasn't brought up until they were back at the precinct.

"Got anything for us?" Morgan asked as Spencer and Emily walked in.

"Yeah, did you know Reid has a girlfriend?" Emily questioned, not giving Spencer a chance to say anything about the case. Morgan's face shot up in surprise as did JJ's, but Emily continued, "And get this, she's a stripper!"

Ignoring the looks he was getting, Spencer turned to Emily, his tone accusatory. "You say that like it's a bad thing." Immediately, Emily corrected herself.

"No, of course it's not, it's just-"

"We didn't expect someone like that to be your type." JJ said.

Before Spencer had a chance to say that they had never even met her so how could they know, Hotch and Rossi walked in, forcing a subject change.

It wasn't until they were on the jet home and Spencer was reading a book waiting for your reply to him asking to come over for the night that the topic of his mystery girlfriend was brought up again.

As Emily took a seat across from him she asked what they had all been wanting to know. "So how come we've never met your girlfriend? Or even heard of her?"

"I did want to tell you all but it was still relatively new and then we had a long string of cases and I wanted her to meet you when I told you so I just didn't mention it." As he was talking, his phone pinged with a text to which he immediately picked up to read.

"So now that we know, do we get to meet her?"

"I will ask her. You guys were thinking of going out tonight right? I'm going straight to her apartment so I can see if she's off tonight to join us."

That seemed to be enough for Emily as she nodded and gave Spencer a smile, walking back to her seat from before.

You could tell Spencer was hiding something. When he arrived at your apartment he was quiet and it seemed like he wanted to talk but he hid it by practically devouring you and keeping you moaning for over an hour.

Deciding you wanted to find out what it was right now, you took action: grabbing his book from his hands and placing it page down on the table behind you, straddling him on the couch. His hands instinctively went to your waist as he gave you a kiss, despite his questioning look.

"Hi." He said, to which you replied the same. "As much as I do love you on me, we decided to rest for a while. Realised you actually can't resist me after all?" He joked.

It was true. To resist Spencer was torture but your pride refused to let you go back on your statement from earlier so quickly. In your break earlier Spencer had called you insatiable when he got up to get you some water. To this you denied and said that you could easily resist him, you just never wanted to and so Spencer challenged you.

"No... but I can tell you want to say something and I'm just curious to find out what it is."

Spencer had been holding off on asking you to go out with him tonight. He couldn't understand why he was so nervous but he took a breath and asked you anyway.

"It kind of slipped during the last case that I have a girlfriend and also what your job was and now my team wants you to come out with us tonight." Spencer spoke quickly in hopes to not stumble over himself.

Your head filled with questions like why was he scared to tell you this? what prompted him to tell them? was he meaning to keep you a secret? Instead you replied with one single "Yes," throwing Spencer completely off guard. He was expecting at least a question about why he had only just told them when you had been together for nearly 3 months now.

"Oh, that's great, um, we're going to a bar not too far from here actually and we can leave in about 2 hours?"

You nodded and internally decided against bombarding him with questions, instead going in for a kiss, all pride and challenge from earlier forgotten.

The nerves only hit you when you were walking to the bar hand in hand with Spencer. Your face must have displayed these nerves, prompting Spencer to pull you closer and ask if you were okay.

"Yeah, I am, I'm excited to meet your team, but you told them about my job right? They're not all weird about it?" Usually, you didn't care about what people think about you, but you really liked Spencer, and the way he spoke about his team proved that he cared deeply for them and you just wanted them to like you too. From the way Spencer had spoken about them, they didn't seem like the type to judge people for doing what they needed to for money, as long as it was legal of course, but still, you'd had your fair share of encounters with boyfriend's friends that have lead to you being dumped all because they've seen you on stage.

"They would never. They're nice people, truly. And I can tell you right now, Emily will be all over you for how you look tonight."

His words lifted your nerves and by the time you were walking through the bar doors, you were eager to meet them. It took not a minute for Spencer's hand to be at the small of your back leading you to a booth full of people. You took a deep breath saying to yourself that even if they called you a slut, it might be worth it for once, as long as you were seen on Spencer's arm.

Getting to the booth you noticed four people sat, watching as you guys approached. You could feel their eyes on you but to your surprise, they didn't feel judgemental or disgusted - they were kind and eager.

Before Spencer had a chance to introduce you to anyone, a woman was in front of you offering her hand. "Hi, I'm Emily, you are so hot!" Her enthusiasm made you giggle as you shook her hand and replied with your name and "So are you!"

As you got acquainted with the team, Spencer left to the bar to buy you and him a drink, smiling to himself as he saw your own smile from across the bar.

The rest of the night ran smoothly with you quickly realising just how true Spencer's words were. None of his team even cared about what kind of job you had, all they cared about was if you were a good match for their youngest team member.

As you parted ways from Penelope's hold, promising to go out with her and the other girls alone again, Spencer watched with a smile.

"You really love her, huh?" Derek's voice startled Spencer slightly, but he nodded anyway, giving you his biggest grin as you came closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest.

"Yeah, I really do." Spencer replied, putting his arm around your waist and saying goodbye as he began to lead you back to your apartment. You didn't even need to have heard what Derek had said to him because you could see it in Spencer's eyes. Because in a world of boys who judged you and called you a slut for doing what you're good at, Spencer was a gentleman who would never let those boys anywhere near you.

this one took me a little longer to finish up than i had intended cause work was draining the past few days but i finally got it done. i have more ways to lengthen it but then id feel like it drags on and i just wanted to get it out so i apologise for the semi-rushed ending. i actually dont mind this one so i hope you enjoyed and please send requests, the people i can write for are in my masterlist!

dividers by @cafekitsune

thank you for reading!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #fluff #taylor swift #slut! taylor’s version #1989 taylor's version #song fic #Spotify

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moonstruckme · 14 days

Note

Apple pie with spencer read and qn airport terminal qt midnight

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of bad eating habits, mentioned unease around germs

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 729 words

“Spence.” Your voice is soft, your fingers combing through his hair even softer. Spencer’s head rests heavy on your shoulder. You shield his eyes from the harsh lights with a hand, hoping to rouse him gently. “Honey, wake up.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow. Or, one does, the other already squished towards furrowing by the way it’s laying on your shoulder. You hate to wake him—Spencer tends to have a hard time relaxing at airports, what with all the germs—but your window to get something to eat is closing.

“Aren’t you hungry?” you ask him, coaxing.

“No,” he mumbles, but he’s blinking awake, looking up at you with soft, sleepy brown eyes. “Are you?”

You give him a sheepish smile. “A little. Sorry, do you mind if I get up to go look for something? Everything’s closing.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I almost made you miss dinner.” Spencer sits up, stretching his neck. He pushes his shoulders back lazily, and you can hear his bones crackle. “I’ll go with you.”

You protest half-heartedly but ultimately capitulate, picking up the heavy backpack before he can and leaving your boyfriend to tow the suitcase. At this time the airport is near empty, the only people to be seen the sad band of vagabonds sitting at your gate waiting for your plane to arrive. You’ve been delayed two hours by the weather. Spencer will have to wake up four hours from when you get home to go to work, you only a half hour later.

You realize as you walk that you may be too late. While the websites you’d checked had said their airport locations would be open until midnight, the employees are already cleaning out machines, wiping down counters, pulling metal gates closed over their entrances.

Spencer makes a worried oh sound, realizing the same thing.

“There’s an Auntie Anne’s down there,” you say hopefully, starting to walk faster in case they’re closing, too. That glowing yellow sign is your light at the end of the tunnel.

Spencer speeds up with you, but protests, “A pretzel isn’t a meal, sweetheart.”

“It might be my only option,” you point out. “Also, I saw you eat a bag of salt and vinegar chips for dinner last week. You don’t get to talk.”

You hear a soft, slightly petulant huff behind you. You might give him shit for it if you weren’t in a rush.

You try to order as quickly as possible, feeling guilty for making the employee serve you just before close. But then the cup is in your hand, warm and smelling of cinnamon, and you think you probably would have vaulted the counter to get it yourself had she refused you. It’s heavenly.

You wait until you get back to the gate to start eating, wanting to savor every bite. When you do, you have to close your eyes, forcibly smothering a moan. They’re everything you wanted and more. You shovel them into your mouth faster than is probably safe and definitely faster than anyone’s mother would approve of, and it’s not until you’re more than halfway done that you notice Spencer’s stare.

You give him a wry look. “So now you’re hungry?”

“What?” He looks startled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re practically drooling.”

“No, I’m not,” he says, though you notice him tighten his lips as though checking to be sure.

You sigh, holding them out to him. “It’s okay. Have some.”

“No.” Spencer frowns with his eyebrows. “They’re yours.”

“It’s seriously okay,” you say, more genuinely this time. “I’d hate for you to miss out. They’re really good.”

He can only resist temptation for so long. He takes one, and his reaction is nearly the same as yours had been, expression going soft at the perfect, delicious warmth of them.

“In exchange,” you suggest as he reaches for more, “can I take a turn napping on your shoulder for a while?”

“Yeah, of course,” says Spencer, managing to sound smitten even though a mouthful of cinnamon pretzel bites. He settles back in his chair, trying to give you as comfortable a pillow as possible.

“Thanks.” You sigh through your nose as you lay your head down, pulling your legs up onto the chair with you and closing your eyes. “I can’t believe we have to go to work tomorrow morning.”

“This morning,” Spencer corrects you.

You groan.

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ghsface · 2 months

Text

I CAN SEE YOU - spencer reid

summary: You watched him from a distance, dreaming of a moment when you could muster the courage to talk to him beyond the professional.

warnings: spencer reid x bau!fem reader ,kissing and I think that's all, if I'm missing something let me know.

author's note: The only thing I can do when I listen to this song is imagine Spencer, idk why this reminds me so much of him. I hope you like it and I'm sorry if there are mistakes/misspelled words, my native language is not English.🎀

All the friction in the hallways when you found him going to get some files or when you were going to see Penelope, all the stolen glances that you noticed almost every day when you were at your desk, even when they were on the Jet, he never took your eyes off.

The FBI office in Quantico was bustling with constant activity, but you were always lost in thought while pretending to review a file. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander to Spencer Reid, the genius of the team, who was sitting at his desk, engrossed in his books or his work.

You saw it every day, noticing the small details that others overlooked. The way he bit his lip when he was focused, how his fingers played with his hair when he was nervous.

There was something hypnotic about him, something that made you feel an inexplicable connection. But you always lacked the courage. You didn't want to risk your professional friendship, or your place on the team, for feelings that might not be reciprocated.

That afternoon, after a particularly tiring day, you found yourself reviewing some reports at your desk, trying to keep yourself busy. Most of the office had already left, leaving you alone with your group mates, leaving the place a little silent. You realized Spencer was there too, working on a file.

"Hi, Spence," you said, trying to sound casual as you approached his desk. The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, y/n,” he responded, his tone relaxed but attentive. "I thought you had already gone"

"No, I don't have to do three reports yet, it's like it's never going to end," you said, smiling warmly but with noticeable tiredness on your face.

Conversation flowed effortlessly as you shared stories and laughter as the two of you completed your reports. You felt more and more comfortable around him, and the connection you felt was palpable. As the afternoon wore on, you noticed a growing tension in the air, an implicit desire that you both seemed to share.

But all this was interrupted when you had to go get a file. "I have to go get a file," you said, getting up from your chair. "Wait, I'll come with you anyway, I am missing a file to finish this," he said, getting up and following you to the room where all the files were.

The filing room was dark and lined with shelves, and the atmosphere was filled with a tension that had nothing to do with work.

As we reviewed the files we were looking for, the conversation flowed naturally. We talked about books, movies, and of course the case we were reporting on.

Suddenly, I found a file that looked promising, but it was on a high shelf. I asked Spencer to help me reach it. As he reached out to grab it, I lost my balance and fell backwards. Just before I hit the ground, I felt Spencer's arms wrap around me, cushioning my fall.

"Are you OK?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

I nodded, feeling my heart beat faster than usual, not only from the shock, but also from the sudden closeness to Spencer. His eyes were shining with a mix of concern and something else she couldn't identify.

We stayed in that position for a moment, and the air between us was charged with a tension I had never felt before. Slowly, Spencer helped me to my feet, but his hands remained on my arms, as if he didn't want to let me go.

"Thank you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, a shy but genuine smile that made my heart beat even faster. Before I realized what I was doing, I leaned towards him. Spencer didn't pull away, instead he closed the distance between us.

Our lips met in a soft, sweet kiss, filled with a suppressed emotion that had been building for a long time.

The kiss intensified quickly. We moved to a corner of the file room, out of sight of anyone who might enter. Our bodies joined in a dance of desire, the outside world fading as we gave ourselves to each other. Passion drove us to undo buttons and explore with trembling hands, desire growing with every second.

Just when the moment seemed like it was going to end in something more, a noise outside the room made us stop abruptly. We looked at each other, both out of breath and with flushed cheeks.

"We should stop," Spencer said, her voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

I nodded, trying to regain my composure. We made up the best we could and parted ways, knowing that what had just happened would change our relationship forever.

Leaving the archive room, we meet the team. Derek looked at us with an amused smile.

"Where have you been?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and a mischievous smile on his face.

I felt my cheeks blush, but before I could respond, Spencer took the initiative.

"Checking some important files," he said, with an enigmatic smile.

The team accepted the explanation, although not without some suspicious looks. As the night wore on, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the file room. It was an intense and beautiful, albeit interrupted, moment that marked the beginning of something new and exciting between Spencer and I, something I was eager to explore further.

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ

Months later...

From that day on, Spencer and I began a secret relationship. We kissed in hidden places in the office, taking advantage of every opportunity to be together without being seen. Meetings became an excuse to brush hands under the table, and coffee breaks were furtive moments of quick kisses in deserted hallways.

One night while working late, we met again in the file room. The tension between us was palpable, and we couldn't resist. Spencer cornered me against a bookshelf, his lips meeting mine in a hungry kiss. His hands explored my body urgently, and I found myself responding with the same intensity.

"We have to be careful," Spencer whispered against my lips, his breathing ragged.

"I know," I replied, my fingers tangling in his hair, "but I can't help it."

Our secret romance continued, each encounter filled with the thrill of the forbidden. Despite the risks, neither of them wanted to stop. The passion we shared was too strong, and every kiss and caress only fueled our desire more.

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly☆

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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months

Note

Spencer reid sends you a period basket every month no matter where he is!!! Without fail there’s a bouquet of flowers, your favourite chocolates, a poem or excerpt from whatever he’s reading, and some of your favourite skincare or body care and he just likes knowing that he’s going to get either a video or FaceTime call from you to tell him about it

Omg like Yolanda and Zack on TT!!!

Spencer knows that your period is a little irregular so he waits for the minute you start exhibiting pms symptoms.

He always checks to see what you have and what you need and takes stock mentally of all that he wants to get you too.

This month had been a little harder on you than others and so he goes a little crazy.

“My period came,” you sound a little pleased, glad it hasn’t been too late this month, but also a little peeved because the cramps are not letting up.

“I got your basket right here, angel.” You look up at him as he holds a bouquet in one hand and a basket in the next. “They’re fresh, the lady at the florist had just picked them.”

You lean up for a kiss, Spencer smiling when you take it and take a big inhale of the carnations. “Thank you Spence,” he hands over the basket next.

You go through it, taking the essentials, your pads and tampons and then your chocolates, out first. Then you see the folded sweater on the bottom. “Spence,” it’s a soft material, softer than your usual sweaters, something that you want to switch into now. You hardly hesitate to do it.

Then you see the face masks and serums and even some aromatherapy oils. “Thank you baby.”

Spencer accepts the way you vault yourself into him, holding the back of your head close to his chest as his other arm wraps around you.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.” You whisper into his clothes and he chuckles.

“That’s just boyfriend duties, sweetheart. Plus one of the things is late. Should be here tomorrow though.”

You pull back, shocked and a little skeptical of how breezy his tone is. “Spencer Reid.” You try to be stern.

“Yes, my love?” He strokes your face from temple to jaw, tilting his head down a little as he stares at you.

“You’re no fair. What did you order?” You ask softly, a little lost in your adoration for him.

“A box set. The new series you wanted, I preordered it.” Tears spring fresh to your eyes, your bottom lip trembling as you feel the openness of his love for you- of how easy he finds it to dole out his love and affection and dote on you.

“Hey, no tears.” He wipes them away with his sleeve, gentle pressure on your cheeks. “I thought you’d be happy, or are these happy tears?”

You nod, “You’re just…” you can’t seem to settle on the right word. “,perfect.”

Spencer laughs rubbing your arms. “Thank you, but that’s not possible. Wanna watch movies with me? There’s the good popcorn, in the cupboards too.”

“Spencer stop. You’re gonna make me cry even more, I’m already so emotional.” He only hums, kissing your forehead as he reaches for the tv remote.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid

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unseededtoast · 10 months

Text

When Was It Over? | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: You had suspicions that another woman was receiving Spencer’s affections, and one night your worst fears are confirmed. Heartbroken, you try to move on but find yourself contemplating when things went wrong, and when it was all over. Inspired by “Is It Over Now?” By Taylor Swift

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.7k

content warnings: infidelity, angst, mention of blood

a/n: thank all of you lovelies for taking the time and reading, I appreciate each and every one of you. But especially to @mirdnightmass who suggested this, thank you🫶🏼 and if you have any suggestions please send them my way!

Woven into the fabric of the blanket is a blonde hair. And it most certainly isn't yours. No, the color is wrong and it's not the right length. Your eyes are glued to the hair, blood ice in your veins and chest sore from devastation.

"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.

Reading the words on your phone screen cause you stomach to turn with anxiety. Spencer had texted you that he will be home from a case tonight, and that he'd like to come over. Usually, this wouldn't be an issue and you'd be overjoyed to see him. But lately you suspect that there might be someone else entering the picture.

Your suspicions started small. He'd take phone calls that weren't from his boss, he would purposely order an extra coffee in the mornings to take to work, and he started working later than usual. Though you had no concrete proof of anything, it was a gut feeling that you just can't seem to shake.

But you push your anxiety aside and text Spencer back, letting him know that he's more than welcome to come over tonight. And as soon as you send the message, you put your phone away and clean your home to occupy your thoughts.

All too soon, Spencer's knocking on your door and you let him in with a smile on your face. He kisses you as he comes through, smelling oddly sweet. Fighting the urge to throw up, you convince yourself not to overreact until you're certain there's someone else in his life.

Throughout the evening, while the two of you are tangled together on the couch, you peek at him out of the corner of your eye and wonder where things started going wrong. There's a tension between the two of you, and though unspoken, its presence is well known.

You remember how only a few short months ago you would have been beyond excited to spend an evening with Spencer, and now you find yourself counting down the minutes until he leaves. He used to shower you in love and affection, but now his hand barely grazes your thigh.

When Spencer leaves for the night, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a goodnight. You realize as you shut the door that he hadn't told you that he loved you once.

- - - - -

Two weeks pass and Spencer has once again come back home from a case. This time his message asks you if you'd like to come over to his apartment. And you tell him you'll be there, but there's an odd sinking feeling residing in your chest.

Later in the evening you go to Spencer's apartment with distant memories dancing in your head. It seems like just yesterday you came here for the first time, bright eyed and head over heels in love with your boyfriend, who couldn't have been more perfect.

You walk in and place your coat on the rack beside the door, smiling at Spencer who stands with his hands in his pockets. Biting the insides of your cheeks, you wonder if he's even going to lay a finger on you tonight.

"How was your day?" He finally breaks the silence and you nod your head,

"It was okay. Just went to work and now I'm here." The conversation feels like one between new coworkers, not significant others of three years.

"Come on in, I rented your favorite movie and dinner should be here any minute." He finally takes a step towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head atop yours.

Feeling his arms hold you for the first time in almost a month is almost enough to drive you to tears. You take in his scent as it comforts you, and you nuzzle your head into his chest, wishing that whatever was happening between the two of you would pass and things would go back to normal. You miss Spencer's affections, your heart yearns to hear him declare his love for you.

After dinner, the two of you retire in the living room where you take your usual spot on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped over the back, and you pull it over top of you, but your heart stops once it lands in your lap.

Spencer walks into the room after getting a glass of water, but he falls short of sitting beside you. He must've noticed something was wrong in the way you're sat on the couch.

While Spencer watches, you grab the hair between your thumb and pointer finger, pulling it through the fabric and hold it in front of you, eyes meeting Spencer's. Your hand shakes as adrenaline pumps through you, Spencer's jaw falls slack.

"What is this?" Your voice is oddly even and calm given the situation. Spencer's mouth opens and closes a few times before he clears his throat and answers you.

"A friend had to crash here for a few nights." He admits, and you wonder why you're just now hearing of this.

"Who is she?" You ask, pushing the blanket off of you and standing from the couch.

"JJ, I work with her." He says, eyes casting down to the hair still in your grasp. Your heart wildly pumps in your chest.

"So you weren't going to tell me that a woman was staying the night with you?" Finally releasing the hair from your grasp, the realization dawns on you and it's like the puzzle pieces you'd collected over the last few weeks have suddenly put themselves together.

"No, she just needed a place to sleep for a few nights." He says, like he's also trying to convince himself of the same thing.

"Spencer don't lie to me. I know you've been taking coffee to her in the mornings, you've been staying later, and the last time you came over you smelled like her." Your voice starts to shake and you step away from Spencer. Tears well in your eyes and you beg your body not to betray you right now.

"She's just a friend." Is all Spencer refutes your argument with. Your head shakes back and forth, the reality setting in.

"Spencer you've taken better care of her than you have me. Hell, last time we saw each other you barely touched me and you didn't even tell me you love me. And tonight you're doing the same thing." Your throat feels like it's closing up from battling your emotions.

As you wait for him to say something, anything, your bottom lip trembles. Where did this all go wrong? Was there anything you could've done? Could you have held him tighter or kissed him more? The questions race through your mind but are cut short by Spencer.

"I'm sorry. We were on a case and she told me she loves me. But, I promise you that she is just a friend." The words that leave his lips are like knives being dug into your eardrums. And with his words, the tears resting in your lash line fall over and cascade down your cheeks, one right after another.

"How could you? Spencer, how could you? We had everything going for us. I love you with every fiber of my being. I thought you were the love of my life. But now you're just, you're just a lying traitor." You force the words out before you completely break down. Turning away from him, you rush to collect your things.

You're not even sure you put your shoes on the right feet but you don't care. The door of Spencer's apartment swings open and you take one last look at him. His mouth is open, eyes wet, but he says nothing.

He doesn't try to stop you as you leave his apartment, and that makes you sob even harder on your way home.

Is this really how things are ending between you?

- - - - -

"Come on have some fun!" Your friend, Sarah, nudges your shoulder, interrupting your daydream. It's a Friday night and the weather is nice, so she's begging to go out.

"I don't know Sarah, I'm not really in the mood." Your tone is melancholy, and all you want to do is crawl into bed. With a huff, Sarah steps in front of you and grabs your shoulders so that you're forced to look at her.

"You need this. I haven't seen you smile in weeks. Come on, go get ready. It'll be good for you." Her voice is kind, and soft, and you know she's only trying to help. As your lifelong best friend, she's always been in your corner with support and love.

"Fine." You relent, and go find something to wear. You're in no mood for anything uncomfortable or flashy, so you settle on a loose button up and a pair of ripped jeans.

"You look so good!" Sarah tries to hype you up as she grabs her keys, but it doesn't really work. You can't feel good while you're suffering on the inside. With her arm slung around your shoulder, you accompany her to whatever she has planned for tonight.

"Really?" You deadpan ask her as you stare at the neon light adorning the front of the building. This is quite literally the last place you wanted to be tonight, but here you are.

"Yes, it'll be fun, come on." Sarah grabs your hand and drags you alongside into the bar where the music is too loud and the people are even more annoying.

Against your wishes, you line up at the bar and wait to gain the bartender's attention. You figure if you're going to be here you'll need something to numb the experience. Sarah knows you've never been a fan of crowded places so you're confused as to why she even brought you here in the first place.

Once the two of you have your drinks in hand, you find an empty table and take a seat. As you sip, you look around at the patrons; people watching has always been quite enjoyable for you. Your eyes scan the bar and land on a tall man across the way. His smile is wide, hair dark and curly, eyes bright and soft.

Blinking rapidly, you pull your eyes away from the man and order another drink. Guilt eats you from inside as you realize you had been checking out another man; albeit one that looks oddly familiar. And surely another drink will help numb the guilt as well.

Hours later and two drinks turned into four. You feel your cheeks warm from the alcohol, and you're keenly aware that your eyes are back on the tall, handsome man from earlier.

"You should go say something." Sarah says, leaning on the table as she nurses her drink. Shaking your head, you disagree.

"No, I can't." You say, almost as if convincing yourself of your own answer. You're not even sure if you and Spencer are over, you can't possibly go introduce yourself to another man.

"Come on. He's been looking at you all night." She nudges you out of your seat and through the power of liquid courage, you relent.

Turning away from Sarah, you find the man easily and take a quick deep breath. It doesn't take you long to cross the bar and in seconds, you find yourself staring up at the man's green eyes. He's got a small smile on his face, his eyes gleam with curiosity.

"Hi." You smile up at the man, who smiles back.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing talking to a man like me?" He smiles wider, showing off his perfectly white teeth. Your eyes dance from the man's smile to his eyes, relishing in their familiarity.

"My friend said I should come say something." You tell him, having nothing actually prepared to say to him beyond an introduction. The man finishes off his drink and looks over to where Sarah is. He nods,

"Well I'm glad she did. Can I get you another?" He raises the empty glass in his hand. While you feel a little tipsy, you know one more wouldn't hurt.

"Sure." You smile up at him and watch as he goes to order the two of you another drink.

While he's away, you glance over to Sarah, who's smiling at you and giving you a thumbs up across the bar. You suppress your smile, but you're thankful she's still here; she wouldn't leave you alone with a stranger and you know she'll be here to make sure you're okay. Her reassuring presence is probably why you agreed to approach the man in the first place.

The man comes back with two glasses in his hands, and he gives you one of them. He invites you back to his table, which is only a few feet away from where you are standing, and the two of you get to know each other. You learn that he's from the area, he works in finance for a fortune 500 company, and he recently got out of a long-term relationship.

You share how your relationship status is hugely unknown at this point, but spare him the details for your own pride's sake. Thankfully, he doesn't inquire and the conversation flows easily. He even makes you laugh a time or two, which hasn't happened in weeks.

As the night goes on, you find yourself sitting closer and closer to the man, drawn in by how he reminds you of someone you dearly miss. It's entirely clear to you why you're attracted to the man, but you push all of those thoughts away, the alcohol working diligently to cloud your logic and judgment and all you can focus on is the man's lips.

Not even twenty minutes later, you're pulling him in by the front of his shirt, crashing his lips onto yours. His hands hold your waist securely, and his lips move in tandem with your own. The taste of sweetness lingers between the two of you. Your body moves on its own volition, and in the heat of the moment you find yourself practically sitting in the man's lap. Thankfully, the table you two are at is tucked away in the corner, but you're still entirely visible to everyone else. However, that doesn't seem to matter as you place kisses on the man's jaw and down to his neck.

His hands move from your waist up to the first button of your shirt where he expertly undoes it. Your wet lips place another kiss on the man's neck, just underneath his ear like you're used to doing with someone else, and the feeling of another button being undone makes you realize what's happening.

Backing away from the kiss abruptly, your heart drops to your stomach. Your fingers work quickly to clasp the buttons on your shirt and you get off of the man, who looks confused and hurt.

"I'm sorry, I can't- I shouldn't have..." You trail off, giving him no specific answer as you turn around and find Sarah.

She must have been able to tell from the look on your face that you're ready to leave. And thankfully she doesn't ask you a single question on the way back to your house. The entire trip back, you stare out the window and wonder why you let that happen, and how you could've let yourself kiss another man. But mostly you just think about how it should've been Spencer.

Sarah drops you off and wishes you a goodnight, and you half-heartedly tell her goodbye.

Your mind is too preoccupied as you go through your nightly routine and by the time your head hits the pillow, your thoughts have shifted from the unknown man's lips to Spencer's.

You remember how his hands would map out every curve of your body and how his lips would kiss your tender skin, as if you'd break if he wasn't careful. Spencer would always hold you close to him as he showered you in love and affection, his hands unable to get enough of you. Even if the two of you were relaxing on the couch, he would always find a way to touch you, whether that meant you were cuddled in his arms or barely touching his shoulder.

A lone tear drips down your face as you try to sleep, missing having Spencer beside you, missing the feeling of his arms around you, and you know you'll miss seeing his gemstone eyes first thing when you wake up. You mourn the relationship, and can't help but wonder if your actions tonight were the final nail in the coffin.

That night, all you can dream about is Spencer, and how in love you used to be.

- - - - -

Awaking earlier than wanted, Spencer rubs the sleep from his eyes the best he can. It's still dark outside, but he knows that he's not going to be able to fall back asleep. And even if he did, he knows that the only thing he will dream about is you.

The past few weeks all of his dreams have centered around you. At first, they were about how you two met and your first few dates. They were vivid, almost as if they were happening all over again. He could clearly see the tulips he picked for your first date, and he remembers the shade of lipstick you wore that brought out your eyes in the best way possible.

As he makes his way through his morning routine, he's distracted by the traces of you that remain in his apartment. You still have clothes in his dresser, your toothbrush still sits on his bathroom counter. And most noticeably, your scent still lingers on his sheets.

But, his apartment now has traces of JJ too. Her blonde hair sticks to the blankets draped over the couch, her perfume embedded in the material. She had left a hair tie on his coffee table and the mug she used for coffee sits untouched in the sink.

Spencer knows that her confession of love was mainly spurred on by a life or death situation, but he would be lying if he said it didn't reawaken repressed feelings. Back in his early days at the BAU, he had been head over heels for her, but he moved on when she got together with Will. And truthfully, when he met you it was the happiest he had ever been, and he was convinced that you were his soul mate.

That was until JJ told him that she loved him.

A heavy feeling of guilt has taken residence in Spencer's chest since you walked out of his apartment. He knew that you had every right to be upset, and truthfully he doesn't know if the two of you will ever reconcile. As you walked out of the door he wanted to stop you, to beg you to stay, but he knew he couldn't. He had to let you go.

Staring at the couch, he can't help but wonder if your relationship had died the moment he let JJ stay over, the moment she laid on his couch could've been the exact moment your relationship took its last breath. Had that one decision been the beginning of the end?

And he can't help but wonder why he agreed to let her stay in the first place, after a confession of that magnitude, and why he hadn't told you. Was it his subconscious way of admitting he also has feelings for JJ, and that by allowing her to stay in his home it was an acknowledgment of that fact? Had he not told you because of the feelings he harbors for her? Would telling you force him to confront those emotions?

No matter what it may have meant, he can't help but to regret it. The look on your face as you called him a lying traitor will forever be ingrained in his mind. Spencer had never meant to hurt you, no, he loved you dearly.

As each day passes by without hearing from you, Spencer wonders if things are truly over for the two of you. His heart aches from your absence and he yearns to have you back in his arms. But he can't help but feel guilty as he realizes that he may have some of those same feelings for JJ.

- - - - -

Months had gone by since you last saw Spencer, and you finally feel like you can begin to heal. It took some time for you to process what had happened, and now you've come to be at peace with his decision. If he wanted to search for something greater, and found it in her, then there's nothing you could've done.

On a regular routine again, you enter your favorite coffee shop on your way to your new job, needing the extra caffeine. The warm air inside greets you and the rich scent of coffee fills the air.

After you order your usual, you stand off to the side to wait, pushing yourself up against a wall so that other people have room to move around. The lightly falling snow outside catches your attention and from the warmth of inside you can appreciate the beauty.

The barista calls your name out as the front door bell jingles. Grabbing your drink, you relish in how the warmth gives life back to your fingertips before turning to leave, preparing yourself to brace the bitter cold that awaits you outside.

But as your eyes land on the people who had just walked in, it seems as if the wintry cold followed you in after all. Spencer stands at the counter with a blonde haired, blue-eyed, woman next to him who looks like she just walked out of a magazine. Their cheeks are rosy from the cold, but you feel yours drain of all color. And if that wasn't enough, it's like your feet have been superglued to the floor, forcing you to watch as he orders for her with a smile on his face.

It seems he found something greater after all.

After the initial wave of sadness washes over you, you feel a familiar fire within you. Jealousy is an ugly beast, but you can't help the way your eyebrows knit together as you watch them, your thoughts consumed with how that should be you next to him, how it used to be you.

In fact, your jealously goes so far as to create hundreds of impulsive plans to earn his attention away from her. If you spilled your coffee, surely that would do the trick. Or if you tripped on your way out, that would be sure to make him look. Even the fleeting thought of jumping from the roof makes an appearance; the only consequence you can think of is how he'd surely come running straight to you.

But your imaginative plans are all for naught, as they grab their drinks and leave together. She laughs at something he said as the door shuts behind them. And you're still stuck in the middle of the coffee shop with one question floating around in your mind.

Did he really choose her over you?

- - - - -

Staring out of your window that's been frosted over with fresh snow, you can't help but to ponder how exactly you got to be where you are right now. In three days it'll be Christmas, and you've never dreaded the holiday more than you do in this moment.

A few evenings ago you had been rummaging through your closet and found the gift you planned on giving Spencer this Christmas. It was simple, but you knew he'd love it. He had always worn a purple scarf during the colder months, and when you saw this one you just knew he needed it. It was another scarf, but the seamstress who was selling it offered to stitch something on the back of it, and so you had asked her to stitch your initials on the back, so that even while he was away on cases he still had a piece of you with him.

Now the gift lays wrapped on your coffee table, where it silently taunts you with thoughts of what could've been. You stare at it, wondering if you should give it away, throw it away, send it through the mail, or do nothing with it at all.

Unable to look at the box any longer, you take it and put it with the rest of Spencer's things you intend to give back to him soon. Having his belongings in your home is slowly starting to drive you mad, and you know that in order to have any shot of getting over him, it all has to be gone.

In a momentary burst of determination, you grab the box of his belongings that sits in the back of your closet and you take it out to your car, despite the fact that the air is so cold it burns your face and that the snow is coming down at a considerable rate. You figure he's had you in his grasp for too long now and it's time to start reclaiming your home, your life, and begin piecing together who you're going to be after Spencer Reid.

The box is haphazardly shoved into your back seat and your hand quickly grazes the side of a book he had left on your nightstand, and as your luck would have it, you managed to give yourself a papercut. You hold your hand out of the car so you don't get blood on any of his things before closing the door with haste.

Your eyes cast down at the bright, crimson red blood that dots the pristine snow below your feet. Drops of blood roll down your finger and drip from the tip, each drip creating its own prominent mark in the snow. And you can't help but feel like it's more than just blood on the snow, that somehow it symbolizes how you may have very well killed what remained of your relationship with Spencer.

But he gave you no other choice.

- - - - -

Your insides twist and turn with anxiousness as you park your car along the street of a familiar curb. Looking back down at your phone screen, you confirm that this is the time you're supposed to be here before getting out of your car and picking up the box from the back seat.

After Christmas you had sent Spencer a text asking if you could come by and get your things that you had left in his apartment, and thankfully he agreed. You hadn't told him that you were bringing his things, and he hadn't asked for them, but you figured it was just common courtesy to bring them anyways. Plus you can't stand looking at the box any longer, all it does it resurface memories of a better time, one where you were happy and in love. Neither of those things are true anymore.

Walking up the stairs, you remember how excited you were the first time to come over and how you were awestruck by how well he decorated for a man. Of course you added a few things here and there over the years, but soon there will be no trace of you left. Your heart sinks with the realization that Spencer's apartment will no longer be your second home, his arms will no longer be your safe haven.

Once you reach his door, you knock lightly. You had partially hoped that he would just leave your things in the hall, and that the exchange would be easy, but of course he wouldn't do that. And within seconds of knocking on the door, he answers. His hair is messy and he's opted for his glasses today, your favorite look on him. Swallowing hard, you hold the box out in front of you.

"I think this is everything." Your voice is nothing more than a whisper. He steps further inside his apartment,

"Come on in." He invites you, and you wonder if you should accept. You know that if you walk in that a plethora of memories will invade your mind, and you know that if you don't that you may never receive the closure you need. After a few moments of contemplation, you step inside.

You place the box on the ground and put your hands in your pockets as you look around. The decorations you had placed around various locations are no longer there adorning the shelves or the walls, your spare coat no longer hangs from the rack beside the front door, and your handwritten notes are no longer on the front of the fridge. You swallow again and avert your eyes, pleading with yourself to not cry in front of him. But as your eyes move elsewhere, you spot a photograph that still hangs on the wall in his living room.

It was a sunny day in the early spring, and the two of you had just celebrated your one year anniversary. The two of you agreed that a nice picnic would be more than enough of a celebration, and honestly you were just happy that he wasn't being dragged away on a case that day. The two of you laid side by side on the blanket in the plush grass, content with one another's presence, fingers interlaced as his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand. Before the sun went down you had asked him to take the picture, and you always loved how bright his smile was that day.

"This should be everything." He comes back into the entryway with a box in his arms. You spot every little decoration you had ever brought over, along with your clothes that you had almost forgotten about. Spencer places the box on the ground as well, and you nod, clearing the emotion from your throat.

"Thank you." You say and go to pick up your box and get out of his apartment. Truthfully, there's a part within you that wants him to beg you to stay, you hope that he will profess his undying love for you and that you won't have to leave.

No matter how heartbroken you are over his decision, you know that you would take him back in a heartbeat. Your soul still aches for his touch and you're not sure that feeling will ever fade. The intensity with which you love him is passionate and all encompassing. For just another moment in his arms, you can't even begin to list everything you would give and sacrifice. His hugs were always the most comforting, his words always sweet and honeyed, his lips always soft.

Until they were for the blonde-haired woman who came in and took everything from you.

Once the box is in your hands, you give him a weak smile and are almost brought to tears just by looking at his face. Your sweet, sweet Spencer is so close yet has never been farther away. Feeling tears well in your lash line, you commit to memory just how beautiful he is for what is very well the final time you'll ever see him.

In an instant, flashes of what your future could've been runs through your mind. You see the two of you hand in hand at the end of an aisle, long nights of waiting for him to come back home only to be greeted with the most loving kisses, and countless mornings waking up in his arms. You were prepared to give him everything, but now you're left with nothing except the memories of when he still loved you.

Giving him one last chance to say something, your hope begins fizzling out. There's only one thing you want to hear him say, and you're coming to understand that you'll likely never hear those words come from his mouth.

When it's clear that there's nothing left to say, you turn and open the front door. Before the door gets closed on you, you turn to look at him just one last time. You think your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you can almost swear you see a tear fall from his eye.

"Goodbye, Spencer." You say as a lone tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, unable to keep them at bay any longer. Feeling your bottom lip beginning to tremble, you make yourself walk away before you have a full breakdown in the hallway right in front of him.

The ride back home is silent, except for the occasional sound of your sniffles. Before the exchange of belongings, you had held out hope that it meant that there might still be hope. But now there's nothing left to give you hope.

It seems things are really over now.

- - - - -

Spencer's phone lights up on his counter, catching his eye as he was walking by. Glancing at it quickly, he sees your name attached to the message. He picks the phone up and reads the message that reads less like a text and more like a cordial email.

"Hi, hope all is well. I was wondering if there is a time that I could come by and collect the rest of my things?"

The words make his heart sink, but he replies and lets you know when he'll be home. He knew that this day would eventually come, but he wasn't prepared for it to be so soon. Placing his phone back down on the counter, he looks around and notices just how many traces there are of you everywhere he looks.

In every part of his apartment he can easily recall a memory the two of you made there. The kitchen is where he remembers making cookies together on a friday night, the living room reminds him of the times you fell asleep in his lap, and the bedroom reminds him of all the mornings he was lucky enough to be awoken by your gentle kisses.

But he respects your wishes and begins collecting your things, committing each one to memory. With each and every little item he packs away, he finds himself becoming more and more angry with himself. He can't understand why he jeopardized the love of his life for JJ. Sure, he thought he loved her, and the two of them had spent extra time together after her confession, but after you left Spencer realized that he could never love JJ the way he loves you. And so he came to the painful conclusion that he could only ever love JJ as a close friend, but only after breaking your heart and shattering your relationship he cherished so dearly.

Spencer knows that he has forfeited every right to be with you by making those series of poor decisions but it doesn't make it any easier for him to accept.

As he packs away the rest of your things, he finally finds himself at his dresser, where some of your clothes remain. He remembers the day you brought some of your wardrobe over and he was happy to make room for you. You had told him that by keeping some of your things here that you two could spend more time together as you wouldn't have to go back and forth between homes when staying over or going out. But he never needed convincing, he would've let you do whatever you wanted as long as it kept that smile on your face.

And all too soon, you show up at his apartment with a box in your arms, filled to the brim with his belongings. As soon as he sees your face behind the door, he feels like he wants to collapse to his knees and beg for you to forgive him.

But instead, he gathers your things and returns them to you when you should be staying here. You should be wrapped up in his arms for the rest of the night. He watches as the photo on the wall catches your eye, and even he can't help but to look at it as well.

Seeing the two of you so happy together in a moment frozen in time makes his throat constrict with emotion, and he feels the tears well in his eyes. What he wouldn't give to be able to see you smile like that again, to hold and love and cherish you until the end of time.

Instead, he watches as you turn and leave his apartment. The realization hits him like a brick wall that this could very well be the last time he ever sees you, and he can't keep his composure. A tear escapes his eye and falls as you turn around and wish him farewell.

Once the door closes behind you, Spencer finally collapses to his knees, sobs wracking through his body while he mentally curses himself for not saying more, for not fighting harder for you.

His chest hurts from crying, but he can't find it within himself to care about anything other than you. He wishes he could forget, things would be easier that way. But instead he's sentenced to a life where he has no choice but to remember everything.

That night while he lays in bed, throat raw and eyes sore, all he can think about is you. The way you fit in his arms like you were made just for him, how you would rake your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, and how sometimes, after particularly hard cases, you would hold him close.

As the hours pass and he gives into sleep, he can almost swear he feels your arms wrapping around him while you whisper for him to "come here", like you always did. Your voice was always soft and understanding as you took him into your warm embrace.

But now the room feels colder than it ever has before, and there's nobody to blame but himself.

- - - - -

A warm spring breeze blows your hair and with it comes the sweet smell of budding flowers. The sun is shining brightly through the puffy, white clouds and for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace.

Once the snow had melted and signs of life began springing back up, it seems your spirits rose as well. Sure, some days are harder than others and you still miss Spencer, but you're able to live without the constant ache in your chest.

You've taken the time to reflect on what happened, and you have come to accept that there was nothing more you could've done. You had given him your entire heart, but that just wasn't enough for him. He searched for something better, something greater, and it seems like he found it. You only hope she makes him happier than you could have, and that she loves him well.

But no matter how hard you work on healing yourself, you can't silence the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you of just how badly you want to see him again. You yearn to even just see him from a distance, and you desperately crave to hear him tell you that he still loves you.

You wish that he could be here sharing this wonderful afternoon by your side, hand in hand and you wish that things had played out differently. Maybe you two would've been engaged, or even married, by now. After all, tomorrow would've been your five year anniversary.

No matter how much time passes you still don't think you're ready to try to get back out there, much to Sarah's disproval. It just wouldn't be fair to the other man, the way you would still see parts of Spencer in him.

With a sigh, you can't help but think of what could've been, how your future with Spencer could've been filled with happiness, laughter, love, and so much more. But no, instead you sit alone on a bench in the middle of a busy park.

After hours of soaking in the warm sun, you decide it's time to go back home. As you walk down the street you recount memories you've thought of a hundred times before and wonder if maybe your path will cross with Spencer's again someday.

Before you open your front door you stop and take a deep breath. The looming anniversary date has made you a touch more melancholy and sentimental than usual and after a long day of reflection, you're finally ready to admit something to yourself that you've been pushing away for far too long.

It's over now.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #mgg #taylor swift #hurt/no comfort #angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #jj jareau #taylor swift inspired #Spotify

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reiderwriter · 1 year

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i need a very angsty/light fluff with spencer to i can see you by taylor. i love your writing sososo much 💗💗

A/N: I'm not sure I got any light fluff in there but I certainly did make it angst 💀 thank you for the request 💗

W/C: 1.7k

Summary: Six months into your secret relationship, you're beginning to think that maybe Spencer doesn't love you the way you love him

Warnings: toxic relationship, Spencer is an ass and then he's kinda really intense. Inspired by:

Here's my masterlist, and I'm currently working on a request challenge, so feel free to check that out too! 💗

Six months of dating was about as long as you could stand before you knew that it wasn’t going anywhere if things didn’t change.

At first, you’d been on board with Spencer’s suggestion to keep your relationship secret for the first few weeks of dating. It made sense with you both working at the same place and on the same team, and you didn’t want to change the group dynamic. But weeks turned into months, and six months was a long time to wait for public recognition of a relationship that could be so much more than secret looks in the hallways and weekends wrapped up in each other.

Everytime he brushed you off whilst at work, you felt part of your heart cracking. The first time he’d done it was only days after your mutual confessions. You’d been alone in a police precinct on some case or the other, and, needing a moment to process your emotions, you grabbed his hand for support. He’d pulled his from your grip quickly, doing his best not to make the sudden movements, and if was like your world was crashing down on you. You’d confronted him that night in his hotel room, and he’d blown you off again.

“Y/N, we promised that this would stay between us for now. I’m sorry that I can’t be like other partners, and that I can’t give you what you need right now, but we can’t do… we can’t hold hands or kiss or seem any closer than we usually are to the others, okay?” He’d seemed so stressed you’d given in and backed down, but his words still stung.

Months of the same scenarios repeating themselves felt like purgatory though, and you knew that you needed to either cut him loose or make him confess to the others.

You hadn’t reached your tipping point when he’d got shot in the neck and forced you to stand on the sides. Just watching while other agents, agents who had known him longer, sure, but didn’t know how he felt, how he tasted, how his scent was enough to drive you crazy, fawned over him. They didn’t know that you would be so lost without him that you’d have gone insane if that bullet was in a different position. They didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He’d checked up on you in private, of course, but only when he was discharged.

“Spencer, what would you have done if that had been me?” you asked him, when he questioned you. He stood staring at you for a minute, really taking the time to think about the words, think about the scenario you’d just asked him to recreate in his mind. You’d fallen for him because he was so goddamned thoughtful, because he always took the time to think and find the correct answer when he was talking to you.

You wished then that he’d answered quicker. That it would have taken him less time to say that he would have been inconsolable, that he would’ve been lost without you, that he didn’t want to think about that ever happening at all.

He didn’t say any of those things.

“I’d do what you did. I’d have managed.” You’d wanted to scream at him then, but you didn’t. You just climbed into bed beside him and wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could without hurting him. You fell asleep to the image of him being shot playing over and over again.

That had been three months into your relationship, and now with three more months of stolen kisses and antipathy, you’d reached your breaking point. Maybe it was the tension in the office from the latest case, maybe it was the detective openly flirting with you, but you certainly couldn’t control the explosion that had been brewing all this time.

From the beginning of the week, the lead detective on your case had been making it clear and obvious that he wanted to take you out. He was showing such obvious and tempting advances that even members of your team were approaching you in private to ask you to consider. It was hard to explain to Emily and Morgan that you weren’t interested in the man, and when even Garcia started encouraging you on a phone call to go after “Detective Dreamy,” you’d almost burst into tears.

Because throughout the advances, the obvious flirtation and the team banter, your boyfriend had not said a word either way. You weren’t sure what you actually wanted from him, because when he finally did say something, it was like he chose all the wrong words and strung them together in a sentence.

“So how are you enjoying all the attention from Detective McDermot?” he’d asked casually, not glancing up from the pile of documents he was scanning.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Reid?” you snapped. He looked at you in shock, completely oblivious that he’d said anything wrong.

“Aren’t you jealous? Isn’t there some part of you that wants to let him know that I’m taken?” the tears were filling your eyes in rage, and you angrily swiped them away before they fell, not wanting him to use them against you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that it was so upsetting to you. Do you want me to say something to him?”

“Do you want to say something to him? Because it only matters if you actually want to do it.”

“Y/N, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“We’re at work, Reid, you’d do well to remember that. In this office, it’s Agent Y/L/N, right?” you grabbed the file you were working on and left the room, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily.

“Y/N- Agent Y/L/N, wait,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the nearest storage closet.

“We promised each other, we promised that we wouldn’t tell anyone for a while, why are you being like this?” He still had a strong grip on your wrist and the intimate size of the storage closet had forced you together, his body pushing against yours.

“What would you do? What would you do if I went out there and said I’d go on a date with him? Because right now, I’m getting concerned looks thrown at me by every member of the team because there must be something wrong with me if I’m turning him down.” The bitterness of your tone took him by surprise.

“Don’t do that, for gods sake, do not do that Y/N.”

“Give me one good reason. Scratch that, give me one explanation that I can give to get everyone off my back.” You pulled your wrist from his grip now, but he countered by grabbing your hips roughly and forcing you back into the wall, pinning you there. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to, intent on hearing his reply.

“You’re mine,” he said it so quietly that had you not been pressed up against the entire length of him, you wouldn’t have heard it. You let out a little giggle at his words.

“Fuck, Spencer, is that it? I’m yours?” you shook your head a little as his grip on you tightened, his head leaning down, forehead resting against yours as you shared in each breath he took in and let out.

“I can see that you don’t want to be in a public relationship with me, Spencer. You don’t want to tell people about us, and that’s… that’s going to have to be enough for me, but I’m not sure how long it’s going to be enough.”

“You don’t want to be with me anymore?” he asked after a minute, taking the time to calm himself before continuing.

“No, God, Spencer, I love you so fucking much, that is not the issue here.”

“Then what is? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve just suggested leaving me, leaving this.”

“You are so fucking self-possessed sometimes,” the words would probably have cut deeper had his lips not been mere centimeters from your own. “I’ll be clear. I love you and I want other people to know that I love you, and that maybe you love me, too.”

“But we talked about this before at the start-”

“And that was six months ago, Spencer. I need more now. And I’m honestly a little hurt that you don’t want more now.”

“I don’t want more?” He seemed genuinely surprised by the suggestion, and the hurt in his eyes stung for the few seconds he let it linger there. Instead of using his words to explain himself, he finally closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips into yours fervently.

The kiss was angry, hot. It was the feeling of being deep in an argument and knowing that you still had to fight your way out. Your lips clashed, your mouths opened and your tongues began fighting for dominance as he attempted to push his way inside of you, to make you feel the strength of his emotions that he clearly couldn’t talk through.

After a minute, you pushed him away, panting hard.

“I want more and more of you by the second. I want to wrap you up and possess you, I want to make it so that no one else can even look at you, I want to make it that I am the only person on this planet that can see you, and everytime I think that, I get so scared.” He spits each word at you, still lost in the venom of the moment.

“We fight monsters everyday, and each moment I spend with you, I feel like I can understand them more and more, because I think of you the same way they think about their victims. Does that not terrify you?”

You let your hands trail up his body and into his hair as he talks, feeling vindicated now that he is finally spilling his guts to you.

“So yes, our relationship is private, because if I got the opportunity to possess you in public, I do not know what I would do to anyone who looked at you, even if they are our closest friends.” He dropped his forehead to yours again, somehow heavier this time.

“You’re mine.”

You stood there, still for a minute gathering your thoughts before you spoke again.

“Are you going to tell them or not?” you breathed out, lowly, doing your best to not let your emotions get the better of you.

“We’ve been arguing in this closet for five minutes and twenty eight seconds, Y/N. If they’re good at their jobs, I won’t have to tell them.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds angst #requested

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mcntsee · 3 months

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— ★fic recs 'twenty four

Hi! This is a masterlist for all my fic recs. This list will continue to update as I read and find more things to add. Credits go to the respective authors!

↳ Please make sure to check out the warning on each fic. Some of them contain stuff that might be triggering for some readers!

keys;

🫐 — angst

☁️ — fluff

🎧 — nsfw

spencer reid recs;

— ★ series;

↳ trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: the one time the bau needs you + the four times you need them.

↳ twisted by @dreamwritesimagines [completed] 🫐☁️

summary: no one can outrun their past.

↳ pierced by @rynbutt [completed] ☁️🎧

summary: moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

↳ american teenager by @lanascinnamongirls [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: all it took was one case. one case and you were back in your small town in your home state of missouri.

↳ say that you love me by @none-of-your-bullshit [completed] 🫐☁️🎧

summary: what happens when an ex cia operative survives an attempted murder and is plucked straight out of georgetown by david rossi?

↳ do you believe me now by @nereidprinc3ss 🎧

— ★ stand alone:

↳ forgiven by @reiding-writing 🫐☁️

summary: you lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

kaz brekker recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ three taps by @happyyyandcrazyyy 🫐☁️

summary: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

↳ dive into the waves below by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: pekka rollins's reign is over and it's time for the new king to take his place (or kaz settles into his new office and his beaten face needs some tending to)

↳ alright by @liberty-barnes 🫐☁️

summary: you’ve been flirting with kaz ever since you started working as his bartender. systematic rejection gets tiring after a while, but sometimes all you need is a good chat and a large bottle of vodka.

↳ bloody hands by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: kaz never feels the need to explain his entire plan. he knows that, whatever happens, it will inevitably go according to plan. but when his plan goes wrong and y/n is injured, kaz is suddenly forced to comprehend with the skeletally hand of death once again.

↳ initials by @triptuckers ☁️

summary: for as long as the crows can remember, you’ve worn a ring with initials on it, and they’ve been trying to figure out what they stand for ever since

↳ love story by @luna-writes-stuff ☁️

summary: kaz hasn’t known life without you at his side. he doesn’t see reason for you to abandon him any time soon and he isn’t planning on letting you go either.

↳ what do you want from me? by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

↳ this is what happens by @fishley 🫐

summary: a look into the journey of kaz losing another person he loves and how it not only affects himslef, but everyone around him.

↳ dark days by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: mr and mrs rietveld. a locked vault and approximately ten minutes of air left. what could possibly go wrong.

↳ his star by @alpurrtwhizkersss 🫐☁️

summary: kaz saves reader from drowning

↳ dust and rubble by @writing-havoc 🫐☁️

summary: a plan goes wrong. you get injured. kaz tries to help-

↳ pocket watch by @writing-havoc ☁️

summary: after years of patient progression on his phobia, kaz finds the opportunity to reciprocate

↳ call me what you like by @sophierequests ☁️

summary: kaz and the reader have been married for quite some years now, unbeknownst to their friends. but what if a slip up causes this shared secret to come to the surface?

↳ sweetheart by @bloodwrittenballad ☁️

summary: kaz's reaction to you calling him sweetheart

↳ the way of the water by @bubbles-for-all-of-us 🫐☁️

summary: reader is a tidemaker and during a heist kaz falls into the water and she uses her powers to pull him out and helps him through a panic attack

simon "ghost" riley recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ alive by @criminalamnesia 🫐

summary: simon loses you

↳ phantom touch by @ghostheartfelt 🫐☁️

summary: you and the 141 are deployed to austria with the intel of a drug boss known as rolmuth who is harboring romanian soldiers to the east coast to smuggle illegal mercenary personnel into america. what happens when a rapid snowstorm picks up and you are separated from the others then further captured and interrogated alongside your lieutenant?

alastor;

— ★ series;

↳ a doe in fall by @hazelfoureyes [ongoing] 🎧

summary: a burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. the chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

↳ painted smile by @worldofkuro [ongoing]🫐☁️

summary: you couldn't wait to meet new friends. what you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

↳ deer dolly by @ohproserpine ☁️🫐

summary: “wife?!” angel dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “freaky face is married?”

↳ a misconduct of love by @hurthermore [ongoing] 🫐(☁️)

summary: control was something you always severely lacked in. so when a radio host enters your life, and seems to yearn to not only posses you, but for you to posses him in turn, you indulge in a love affair with the man your husband introduced you to.

— ★ stand alone:

nothing here yet…

hobbie brown;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ where's my love by @autumn-hiraeth 🫐

summary: hobie's cannon event

#kaz brekker x reader #spencer reid x reader #alastor x reader #hobie brown x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

244 notes · View notes

strawbeerossi · 1 year

Text

Jealousy

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever the team tracks down the unsub they are looking for, it’s up to reader to lure him out of the bar with nothing but her charm and charisma. Spencer however, just can’t stand watching it. He makes sure to make his feelings known to the reader later on.

Content Warnings: Post-Prison!Spencer, Jealous!Spencer, BAU!reader, case details, coarse language, Dom!Spencer, kinda mean!Spencer, sub!reader, possessiveness, degradation, praising, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (F receiving), fingering, hair pulling, spitting, aftercare, fluff at the end

Word count: 3k

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Well, here it is! Can I technically call this ‘Jealousy (Taylor’s Version)(From the Vault)’ ?

Spencer approached Emily, his brow furrowed with concern, as he held a file tightly in his hands. "Emily, we need to talk about Y/N's undercover assignment. I've been analyzing the data, and there are some significant risks involved that we need to address before we even think of sending her out there.” he began, his voice laced with urgency.

Emily, her expression serious yet attentive, met Spencer’s gaze. "I understand your concerns, Reid, but we've already vetted this operation thoroughly. Y/N is well-prepared and capable of handling herself," she responded, her voice steady and reassuring.

It wasn’t matters of him thinking that Y/N wasn’t prepared, it was him being worried because this unsub was taking women who fit her image description and killing them after doing horrible things to them.

The male nodded, his worry still evident. "I know Y/N is skilled, but the circumstances surrounding this case are unusually complex. I just want to make sure we have contingency plans in place and that we're ready to support her in any way necessary," he explained, his analytical mind racing with potential scenarios. She could have a knife pulled on her and be forced out, this unsub could drug her by sticking her with something, he could kill her right there if he figured out she was a federal agent..

After being released from prison, Spencer became a different man. He used to be more composed, now however, he was more temperamental. It didn’t help that Y/N was his girlfriend, the need to protect her being obvious. Besides, who wants to see their partner talking with a man who was brutally stabbing women and doing horrible things to their corpses? Especially when each of those women could’ve been her twin. That put her in a high risk situation that wasn’t a guaranteed arrest.

“Reid,” The Unit Chief let one hand come up to rub her face, the woman being tired of the argument. She could understand the worry and frustration, however this was Y/N’s job that she’d been doing for a good six years now. She knew the stakes as well as what she could or couldn’t handle.

“I promise that we will have this covered. We have surveillance all over the bar. Alvez, Simmons, and you are going to be inside, close enough to stop anything if things go too far.” She stressed the details, the woman just being exhausted explaining her decision continuously. “You aren’t changing my mind. I need you to understand that this decision was made with Y/N. You need to let her do her job.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N walked into the dimly lit bar, her gaze looking around for Marcus Black, the man’s face still fresh in her mind from the picture that Penelope had sent her while she was on the way over to the location, the woman trying to mentally prepare herself for the mental gymnastics she’d have to go through for this. It was a common misconception that undercover missions were much easier than having to risk it by assuming who the unsub is and building off the profile.

Y/N would argue this is much harder. You have to stand in front of a person who did unspeakable things to others. You have to get close and personal, be able to hide that overwhelming feeling of being disgusted, nervous, and even terrified. This was a man who was definitely bigger than she was in every aspect, being able to take her down if he truly wanted to.

That didn’t stop her from flashing a bright smile at the bartender as she’d approached the bar, sitting in a bar stool while ordering a vodka tonic. Across the room, she could get a clear view of Matt Simmons, the man keeping his gaze fixated on her as he gave a nod once the two made direct eye contact.

She had a wire, the team could hear everything from the earpieces they all had in order to communicate with one another as well as communicate with her, even if she couldn’t very well respond in an obvious way.

Although as Y/N was lost in her thoughts, she could feel a presence beside her, one that oozed darkness. The vibe had dropped tremendously low, however Y/N needed to keep up a façade or all of this will go to shit, something the team definitely doesn’t need right now.

Especially when they could just taste the capture that was going to come. “Hi.” The woman spoke, a charming smile gracing her features while her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her fingers playing with the straw in her drink.

Which as she had struck up a conversation, Spencer was quietly watching from the other end of the bar, nursing a full glass of some mixed drink in front of him just to avoid suspicion. He knew that she had to fake interest but that didn’t stop a heat rising in his chest, one associated with jealousy.

Seeing his girlfriend giving another man bedroom eyes, laughing at every word he said, even putting her hand on his upper arm was enough to make him seethe in his spot, hazel eyes focused on his girlfriend.

She was giggling, he could just hear it from his spot, probably telling him that she just couldn’t bare the thought of going home alone. He was just further pissing himself off thinking of the potential things she could be saying, not even tuning in to the actual dialogue because he knew it would’ve pissed him off much more than his own thoughts.

It was enough to make him clench his hand around the glass in his right hand. It was like his brain was trying to trick him into genuinely believing that Y/N was enjoying herself. He knew better, however the anger over the ‘what if’ had him shaking.

It reminded him of when he was in prison.

Y/N would come to visit him and it was one of the only things that got him through the hell, however the other inmates always had their comments. Saying explicit things about his angel, what they’d do to her given the chance to ever see her outside of those four cement walls. He wanted to keep his head down at the time but god damn, if this version of him was in prison, he would’ve been throwing fists and starting fights over his girlfriend, adding onto his sentence.

This was absolute fucking torture, Spencer’s leg bouncing in annoyance as he was using his opposite hand to put the earpiece in his ear, just in time to hear something that would have him absolutely livid. “I don’t think you could handle me, sweetheart. However if you’re up for a challenge, I’m always happy to take a precious little dove like yourself home.. However.. I don’t know if you could take what I’m going to give you,”

The male’s voice was the first thing Spencer was greeted with. “Is that so? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. But I promise, once you've tasted the forbidden fruit, there's no turning back.” Y/N countered, her voice low and in a seductive tone while her fingers were tracing over the rim of her glass.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, honey.” The man continued while looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Most women can’t handle what I offer. We make a wager..” There it is! Now tell her, you fucking fuck.

“If they can get through my little game, they get to go home. If not?” He began, reaching in his jacket pocket. Which was enough to make Spencer jump up from his spot before he was storming over, catching a glimpse of a knife being pulled from an inner jacket pocket.

It gave him probable cause to shove the man over the counter, making Y/N’s eyes widen at the surprise while she was jumping back.

“Marcus Black, you are under arrest for the murders of Christine Brailey, Jessica Fredricks, and Emily Knight as well as the attempted murder of Amanda Grey.” Spencer spoke through gritted teeth, the handcuffs locking tightly on his wrists before he was shoving him out of the bar.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N’s back was hitting the front door of the apartment as soon as she and Spencer made it inside, the woman gasping while she was trapped between her boyfriend’s body and the wooden door.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were enjoying yourself back there. I mean you were really trying to sell it, weren’t you?” Spencer asked, eyebrows raising as his hand was coming under his girlfriends chin to make her look at him. He looked furious, it was enough to make Y/N nearly fall on her knees right then and there.

The thing about Spencer was that he was much different now, prison changing him in many ways. He was still a good man, there were no doubts about that, but now he had more anger.

Which Y/N was the outlet he needed when he was having a hard time, fucking her deep into their mattress where she was soaking their bedsheets with her cum, getting to the point where she was crying from overstimulation and begging for more.

“Get your little ass in the bedroom.” Spencer spat, dropping his hand before watching his girlfriend scurry off, making a b-line to their bedroom. It took Spencer an agonising amount of time to lock up and make sure everything was turned off for the night before he was making an appearance.

“You know, I could tell you were truly enjoying yourself. How does it feel to be a fucking whore?” He spat, making Y/N clench her thighs together as she could just feel her arousal soaking her panties from the harsh words.

“Look at you. Fucking pathetic. You’re really getting wet right now while I’m scolding you for being a whore?” He asked, taking a few steps over before letting his hand tangle in his girlfriend’s hair, tugging her head up to force her to look up at him from the spot where she was sitting on their king sized bed.

“So cock hungry.” He spoke while letting go of her hair while working to loosen his tie, urging his girlfriend to take his belt off for him. However as she was moving to start on his pants, his hand was wrapping around hers. “No.” He began, using the tie he’d loosened and taken off to restrain her hands behind her back.

“You don’t get the pleasure of touching me tonight.” He scolded his girlfriend before pushing her back onto the mattress, his hand grabbing her right ankle before he was pulling her to the end of the bed.

The black dress she wore had a perfect eyeful for him, her tits threatening to spill over the top as he was running his large hands over her body, fingertips tracing over the straps before he was pulling them down, letting her breasts out of their confinement while he groaned lowly. He had seen her body so much and he could navigate it with ease, but seeing her was always like the first time. Just.. He knows what he’s doing now and he’s not as nervous. “Fucking gorgeous.” His voice was low while he was using no effort at all to tug the dress down her legs, throwing it somewhere on their bedroom floor.

“The point of panties is to have something to cover you up.” He spoke lowly, chuckling as her needy, swollen cunt was practically swallowing the fabric of the panties that were on her hips. With a soft hum, his fingertips were running across her covered slit, collecting her arousal on his fingers while sighing, his head shaking.

“Look my angel. Who’s got you this wet?” He asked, his hands pushing her thighs apart more, falling to his knees at the edge of the mattress. “Y-you.” Y/N was whispering, shaking with anticipation as she was really desperate for something, anything. She knew the game Spencer was playing though.

“Damn right,” He gave an arrogant smirk while blowing cool air on her soaked pussy, a chuckle leaving his lips at the pathetic mewl that fell from her lips. “That’s right. Me. Because you’re mine, Y/N. Gonna show you what happens when you get too into flirting when you only had to do the bare minimum.” He murmured, his fingers hooking in the waistband of the black panties, tugging them down her legs while discarding of them somewhere on the floor.

Spencer was delving right in, eating her as if she was his last meal and he was a starved man, the way Y/N’s whines and cries making his cock stand at attention. However it wasn’t long until he was pulling away, tongue paying attention to her throbbing clit while two of his long fingers were being pushed into her without warning.

Her pussy was clenching around the digits, her back arching off of their sheets as she was blabbing her own praises, even if she wasn’t making too much sense because she was a sobbing mess as she could feel those long fingers curling.

Her hands were still bound, grabbing onto her own wrist, although she’d rather have her fingers in Spencer’s hair and being able to shove his face against her more. However, it was all crashing down when Spencer was pulling away, the male chuckling as his girlfriend was looking up at him with tears in her eyes. She was desperate for relief.

“Shh.. I know.” The male chuckled, now getting off his shirt, shedding his slacks as well before his boxers were the last to go. He was getting situated, his hands wrapping her shaking legs around his waist while he was spitting onto her already soaked pussy, the tip of his cock teasing her desperate cunt by spreading the sit around as if she needed to be lubed up.

“Alright, angel. Are you ready for my cock or do you need my fingers a little longer?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. Even in his state, he’d always ask before going too crazy. Last thing he needed was to hurt her.

“Cock!” Y/N blabbed immediately, eyes glossed over while her hips were rolling in an attempt to get some sort of friction, clenching around nothing as she was left to lay there helpless.

“Answer any faster, why don’t you? Someone is eager..” Spencer chuckled, however he was getting quite desperate himself. So, he wasn’t wasting time before his cock was pushing into her cunt, his head falling on her shoulder while he let out a low groan.

Y/N was letting out a drawn out moan, a few whimpers following after. There was always a delicious stretch, the pleasurable pain having her squirming and trying to push herself against his cock for more, the only thing stopping her was a strong hand on her hip.

“Patience. I’ll pull out right now and cum on your stomach and leave you here to squirm. You know better than this.” He warned, his voice low as he kissed the spot under her ear.

Feeling his rock hard cock stretching and stuffing her felt beyond amazing and she loved it. Once he was bottoming out, Spencer wasted no time in beginning to ram his cock into his girlfriend.

The feeling of her velvety, plushy walls was always enough to drive him insane. It was like she was made for him, not even just her body but her as a person. She complimented him so well and he did the same with her. It was safe to say that she was his person. Emphasis on his.

The sinful sounds of skin slapping against each other and the moans, whimpers and cries from Y/N were filling the once quiet bedroom. Their neighbors hated them enough, Spencer could already hear the complaints from the woman next door. She’d already made several noise complaints in the past, which Y/N would joke with Spencer that it was because she hadn’t been touched in a good thirty years. What a life that would be.

Spencer kept up his steady, relentless thrusts. His goal was always to have Y/N cum first, mainly because the mere sight of her creaming around his cock was enough to make him explode. “Sp-Sp.. I-I… C-Cu-“ That was all he got out of her before he knew exactly what she was trying to convey judging by the way her cunt squeeze tightly around him, a cry leaving her lips as she was doing hitting her orgasm, her back arching off the mattress as her nails were digging into her wrists.

“Fuck!” She cried, Spencer giving a few more sloppy thrusts before long ropes of his sticky cum were beautifully decorating her inner walls, his thrusts fucking it deeper into her while he was slowly coming down from his own high.

Y/N was in full orgasmic bliss, her face flushed, her eyes glossed over, her once neatly done makeup running down her face as well as her face being all over the place. She was fully fucked out, making Spencer lean down and press a few loving kisses against her lips before he was pulling out and pushing himself to stand.

He disappeared off to the bathroom for a few moments, getting a warm bath ready for his girlfriend before heading back to the bedroom, a soft hum leaving his lips as he was carefully picking up his tired, fucked out partner.

“There we go. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He breathed, the woman letting her arms loosely wrap around his shoulders. She was still in the stage where she was crashing down from her high, so he was placing her gently in the warm tub before grabbing a washcloth.

As he was washing his girlfriend, he was looking up at her face once he could see the content smile on her face. “Hi,” He whispered, the two sharing a little giggle amongst each other. “Hi.” Y/N responded, leaning over to press a kiss against her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I hope you know, I might be flirting with more people more often if this is the outcome.” She joked, making Spencer laugh.

“Like hell you are.”

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