#crimnal minds x reader

[sweatervest-obsessed]

You

pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.8k

cw: oh death babes, depression, mentions of drugs, mentions of ODs, gun violence, blood, four out of the five stages of grief (there’s no acceptance here)

a/n: Guys, I was feeling something, and spewed this out. Enjoy the pure grief and pain I just poured out onto a page. Also spot the little references throughout hehe. 

Spencer Reid Masterlist

“Spence, you did everything you could. It’s not your fault.” 

He shook his head and pressed you up against his chest, ignoring the blood seeping into his pants, his vest, his hands. 

“You can’t—hey, hey, hey, look at me. Y/n, please.” His voice cracked on his plea as the two of you crumpled to the ground. He screamed out for a medic as he cradled your body against him. 

Your eyes floated in and out of consciousness, focusing on him when they could. “We knew this was going to happen eventually.”

“N-No.”

“I-I…I love you…” Your chest heaved up and down. 

“Stop it. Stop.” 

“So….much….” 

Spencer just shook his head and yelled at his team to do something, but they all stood back, none of them wanting to ruin the goodbye he never got to say. 

Spencer snapped into focus, realizing he was sitting on the jet, staring out the window. There was no one sitting next to him, they had all taken the physical seats, leaving him to the couch. And while this was nothing out of the norm, the only difference was that you weren’t sitting on the couch facing back at him. 

Spencer was alone, in his head, and on the couch. 

Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n passed away on May 17th, at the young age of thirty. She had been an agent of the FBI for over seven years, and a member of the BAU for almost five. She had become an integral part of the FBI and was a valued member of the BAU. She was survived by her fiancé Doctor Spencer Reid, her mother and father, her younger brother and sister, as well as two nieces and one nephew. 

Spencer thought about you every single day. 

He would think about you when he went to make his coffee, adding a scoop of sugar since that’s how you took yours. He thought about you when he took the train into work, listening to songs that you loved, over and over and over. He thought about you when he would sit alone on the jet, trying to ignore all of the pitiful stares as everyone tried not to take your spot on the couch. 

He liked to replay your death over and over and over, making it so that he was in the other car, he was onsight to say goodbye to you. 

Derek told him that you waited for as long as you could. 

Spencer didn’t know if that was comforting, knowing you willingly suffered longer than you needed to, just to see him one last time. But it was in vain since you died two minutes and forty-seven seconds before the car arrived. 

In his head, he was the one who held you, who told you how much you were loved and adored, and maybe that could’ve made you stay. 

It wasn’t Derek holding you as you choked on your own blood, watching you struggle to survive long enough. It wasn’t Derek holding you telling you to breathe and just let go. It wasn’t Derek being the last person to hear your voice. 

Tell him that I’m s-so sorry, and I-I...love him...so. Much.

Spencer realized about a month after the funeral, that he never saw your wedding dress. You were about seven months away from your wedding when you died, but you had been engaged for over a year. 

Emily, Penelope, and JJ have the pictures, but he couldn’t bring himself to see you in something that was supposed to signify your forever, when instead it was cut short by an ambush and the carelessness of the local cops. 

Apparently, it was perfect. But Spencer didn’t have perfect. He wasn’t lucky enough to have perfect. He wasn’t privileged enough to even be allowed to think about perfection. 

The anger would take over after thinking about it for too long. He always found himself angry with you for leaving him—abandoning him. How selfish could you be? Spencer believed he wasn’t worthy of you, he never had. You’d always take your lunch breaks with him, so he always had someone to sit with since he told you about how he would eat alone when he was younger. Every time he’d come in with his tie crooked or his hair a mess, you would casually let him know. Eventually, when you worked up the courage to kiss him one night, you just started fixing it for him. Every morning you’d make him coffee as you both got ready for the day. You’d leave him little notes hidden in his desk, in his pillowcase, in his wallet, in his pockets.

It didn't take anything to make him think about you, but when he reached into the pocket of his jacket to find his phone as he got onto the plane, he found one. 

Hello Darling,          I hope today is a good day for you. You deserve         good things Spence. I hope you one day believe        it as much as I know it to be true     With all the love in my heart,             Future Mrs Doctor Spencer Reid P.S. you owe me the dishes tonight…

It shattered what little resolve he had left this morning, causing him to sit alone, on the couch, the note pressed against his lips as he stared out the windows of the plane. 

It was ironic that the one good thing he had left in the world was suddenly gone, and how you leaving made him feel as though he deserved nothing. The Bureau gave him a maximum of six months off--Grief Leave, they called it. But he ended up getting restless around month four, asking Hotch if he could come back periodically. That was how JJ found out that Spencer had been sleeping on the couch, unable to bring himself to sleep in a bed made for the two of you when there was only one left. 

It’s also how JJ found out that Spencer had relapsed. 

She had been the one to find him on the bathroom floor, exactly four months after your funeral. And Spencer fucking hated her for it. He couldn't stand to be stuck in your shared apartment alone, but he couldn't bring himself to just abandon the last place he held you. He kept asking JJ why she would keep the two of you apart? Two souls that were meant to forever be intertwined suddenly ripped apart. It felt like some sort of cruel joke. 

But he didn’t use after that. One and Done, as he stated to Garcia over the phone one night while at a rehab. They let him out a week and a half later since they couldn’t prove he was a harm to himself anymore.

The team would take their turns, making Spencer feel as though he was twenty-three again. They would watch him, as they felt obligated to babysit him. Made him feel more like his friendships were chores than acts of love. Spencer didn’t feel much love anymore, only pity. 

Spencer looked over as Derek cleared his throat, silently asking if he could sit down, in your spot. He nodded once, an invitation he wasn’t really in the mood to repeat. 

The plane ride was going to be a long one, six hours. And Spencer had only been overthinking everything for only one of them. 

“You found another one.” Not a question, an observation. 

Reid nodded, his gaze had shifted back to the window, the clouds, the slight rain streaking horizontally across the sky as they flew. 

 You loved the rain. It was refreshing, something cleansing. Rebirth, as you would say. 

It gives you a new beginning everytime it rains, which is extremely kind of the universe considering how many times we manage to fuck up. 

Spencer had once laughed at that, listening to you rant on about the perks and importance of rain. But now? He fucked hated it. He saw glimpses of you in every rain drop, reflecting you millions of times, and he would hear your laugh every time it thundered, taking up as much space as deserved and echoing through your now empty home.

It rained for a week straight after you died. The world weeped at the loss of your soul. Spencer couldn’t tell if it was a cruel joke from the universe, or if it was you trying to tell him to try out that whole “rebirth thing”. 

Either way, he didn’t enjoy it as much as you would have. 

“Even when she’s not…” Spencer closed his eyes and swallowed the words, still unable to say them outloud. “She still manages to, uh, render me speechless.” 

Your favorite pastime was getting Doctor Spencer Reid to become speechless. You learned how to play chess, without his knowledge, and managed to beat him the first time you played. At some point, you had learned enough Russian to go and see one of those movies he enjoyed so much, even though he knew that deep down the whole thing was not remotely in your wheelhouse. The team had never heard Spencer go as quiet as often as he did when you were around. 

Except for now. Spencer would state a fact, make an observation, point out something the team was missing, and that was it. He never spoke more than a few sentences at a time. Gone were the days of rants and backstory and additional context, that you always argued were important. No one listened to Spencer like you did. Instead, now, the world settled into an uncomfortable silence where laughter and rambling and teasing should have been. 

“She’s good like that.” Derek looked down at his hands. The two of them barely spoke. Spencer knew that Derek could still see your breath stop when he closed his eyes. Derek once drunkenly told him that sometimes, he could still see your blood over his hands–He couldn’t wash it out with water, so some nights he’d wash it out with whiskey, or bourbon, or scotch, anything to make the stains go away. 

The two of them looked at one another before opting to not say anything further, at risk of causing them both even more grief at the subject of you. 

I swear Spence, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I know you will.

It was funny to him that in his day dream, you always ended up comforting him. You always ended up being the one to make sure he was okay before you died. 

I love you so much Spence. 

And he would just whisper how much he loved you back, hoping to any god that somewhere, somehow, you could hear him. You could hear his misery and come back, having pranked him. He’d forgive you, if you came back. 

But instead, while he thought about you at 43,894 feet above the earth, you lay six feet under, permanently grounded. 

[an1t4k]

glasses spencer glasses spencer glasses

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, in the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and i’d still ride.

copy by: this post by this blog

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚aaron hotchner fic recs *̥˚✧

here are some of my favourite fics with my favourite unit chief aaron hotchner! yes, they are almost all x reader. *very ashamed sigh (not)*

✧*̥˚ smut *̥˚✧

spoiled by @mariasont

pathetic hotch by @ddejavvu

bereal with hotch by @ddejavvu

i can see you by @kimstills

so it goes by @cimmanonrowl

savor by @kimstills

west coast by @minswriting

casual by @dashofghost

✧*̥˚ fluff*̥˚✧

taking care of him drabble by @luveline

serendipity by @hannibals-favourite-meal

sleepy reader blurb by @luveline

jealous aaron drabble by @luveline

hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi

spontaneous phenomenon by @luveline

drunk confessions by @miley1442111

down we go by @hotchner-edu

eyes don't lie by @hotchner-edu

public displays of affection by @ssahotchnerr

something more by @headkiss

definitely not old by @ladycaramelswirl

pillow talk by @louvaine

pandora's box by @hotchner-edu

beanstalk by @solardrop

protective aaron blurb by @mrs-weasley-reid

✧*̥˚ angst & hurt/comfort*̥˚✧

the analyst's arrival by @thewulf

pining hotch by @luveline

clingy by @miley1442111

blame by @kimstills

go ahead and cry, little girl by @undiscl0sed-desir3s

insecurity by @miley1442111

✧*̥˚ honorable mentions*̥˚✧

authors i've read a lot and their masterlists!

@mrs-weasley-reid her masterlist I her fic recs

@luvelinetheir masterlist

my criminal minds masterlist

if you want your work removed, dm me!

more recs

[hotchs-big-hands]

He’s so cunty

[cancersunthatsit]

I’m so jealous my heart could burn it self down

[billybutcherrtrash]

Throne

Link to Pt 2 <-

CW: 18+ (MDNI) oral (f) and fingers and smut.

You and Spencer are friends who attended at party for a mutual friend and find you have an interesting shared book fantasy.

It had been several hours since you’d arrived at the party for a mutual friend. Reid had been cautiously watching you as you talked to everyone and gave them a small amount of your time. Every so often your gazes would meet and you’d exchange a smile from a distance. Although you’d greeted him when he walked in, you’d been rushed away my another friend for some kind of emergency. Every guy you talked to made Reid anxious. He hated the idea of you walking out of this place with someone else. Anyone else but him. Finally you made your way over to him, sitting down beside him and smiling.

“Welcome back”. Spencer said as you took a sip of your drink.

“Thanks. It’s been very hectic. You’d think for a going away party it would be more fun. Instead I’m chasing down my drunk friends.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I think I saw one of my drunk friends fall off the bar earlier.” He laughed.

“I saw that. I think we’re the only two here that aren’t drinking.”

“I like to be in control of myself. I drink occasionally but in this atmosphere I don’t think it’s wise.”

“I agree. To much going on and I’m already over stimulated”

“Glad I’m not the only one.” He nodded.

You tucked your hair behind your ears and shifted closer to him. “I’m really happy you came.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, “I’m glad too. I’ll admit I was on the fence until I heard you’d be coming too.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. This isn’t my thing. Bars. Or people.”

“I would much rather be at home reading. I hate all this.” You shrugged.

“Oh, that’s reminds me I started reading this book about ancient erotica and I think -“

At that you held up your hand to stop him,“Did you just say erotica?”

Spencer nodded, “Yeah, but not in the way you’re thinking of pornography. It’s rather tasteful compared to today’s idea of erotica. I’ve read a few of what is considered erotic today and I think it’s just porn on paper.”

You stared at him for a long moment. His brown eyes stared back anticipating your response.

“Porn on paper is called smut now.” You smirked.

“Yes, and it is just sexually charged writing. Ancient erotica is art. Paintings and images that are tastefully done.” Reid explained.

“I guess my bookshelf is filled with porn then.” You laughed softly.

“You read…smut?” He bit his lip.

Suddenly you felt hot. Did the temperature go up? You’d just admitted you had read spicy books.

“I-wel-…I mean…I have other kinds of books too.” You stammered. “I have biographies and nonfiction also. Fantasy.”

Spencer was enjoying watching you squirm. You were flustered now. He could see trying to save whatever semblance of a normal conversation there was left.

“Fantasy? What kind of fantasy?” He asked.

“No sexual fantasy…I have Fourth Wing. Have you read it?”

“Dragons and thunder…I have read it and its sequel.” Reid nodded. “But may I ask…how you felt about the throne scene?”

He was torturing you now. He watched as your eyes went wide and your breathing halted just enough to notice.

“I…uh…Spence…you’re doing this on purpose.” You said softly.

“Am I? I’m just curious.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you?”

“Very…” He nodded.

He watched you bite your lip. The conversation had taken a sharp turn and now you were staring at each other, both quiet. You wished you knew what he was thinking about.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Spencer finally asked.

“Yes”. You agreed.

He stood and held out his hand for you. You took it and slipped out of your seat, following him out the door. You felt anxious as you walked out into the cold air, cautiously looking up at him.

“Did you drive?” He asked, looking back.

“No…I came with (your mutual friend’s name).”

“You should probably tell her you’re leaving.” Spencer smirked.

“I can text her.” You blushed a little as you arrived at Spencer’s car.

You turned to face him as he opened the door for you. It was only now that you realized he was so much taller than you. All the time working with him at the university and you’d never noticed. He stepped closer and slid a hand around your waist.

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked.

Your brained seemed to short circuit, unable to form words, so you nodded almost too enthusiastically. Spencer leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you gently. The feel of his mouth on yours was dizzying. You weren’t drunk but you felt like it. He pulled you a little closer and you welcomed the feel of his body. After a few long moments he pulled back leaving you aching his touch. He gazed at you, stroking your cheek gently.

“Still want to go home with me?” He asked.

“Yes” Was all you could managed, still seeing stars.

Spencer helped you in the car before closing the door and running to the other side. You watched him get in and start the car.

“Don’t forget to text (your friend’s name).”

“Oh, right.” You reached for your phone and sent a quick text letting them know you’d found a ride.

They sent a reply with eggplant emoji’s and water droplets. Thank God it was dark because your cheeks were red at the idea of them knowing who you’d left with. The man you’d confided in her to having a crush on from the minute he’d walked into your life. As he drove you pulled your sleeves over your hands and fidgeted with them anxiously. You couldn’t have possibly expected him to not notice. He reached over and laced his fingers with yours.

“You play with your clothes when you’re nervous.” Spencer said, glancing at your hands.

Of course he’d noticed. The many meetings you’d sat in together, the times you’d been in the elevator together alone, the time he’d come to you asking for your opinion on a case, he’d seen it every time he was near you. You looked up as you felt the car slow to a stop. He put the car in park and you both sat for a moment. Finally your eyes met his. He gave you a soft smile.

“Do you still want to come inside?” Spencer asked.

“I do.” You answered.

He nodded and got out of the car, coming around to open your door and helped you out. Her nerves were started to become more noticeable. You didn’t do this. You never went home with guys. Especially not guys you worked with. Especially not anyone with an IQ of 187 and read books on ancient erotica. Spencer took your hand and led you into his building. Once in the elevator you chewed at your lip, your fingers linked with his as he pressed the button to his floor.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, reaching up to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Spence…you need checking on me. I’m fine. I’m sure. I promise.” You said, standing on your toes to kiss him.

He cupped your neck, returning the kiss. He was gentle and soft. You could only hope he maintained that once you were in his apartment. The elevator dings upon arriving at his floor. He pulled away reluctantly and you stepped off, making your way to his front door.

“I’m slightly surprised we aren’t stumbling down your hallway, too impatient to get inside.” You joked.

Spencer slid his key in the door, “We could have been but you deserve more respect than me just trying to fuck you.”

Your jaw dropped, surprised. “Spencer Reid said fuck!” You smirked.

“I’ve been known to swear on occasion.” He replied, letting you inside.

You stepped inside the apartment, looking around. He closed the door and locked it.

“So…what now?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“Spence…we both know what’s going to happen…but can we pretend for five seconds that you’re not thinking about undressing me and be making obscene sounds shortly thereafter?” You asked, taking his hand.

“Well now that you’ve put that image in my head…it’s going to be hard not to.” He smirked.

“You mentioned you had books. I want to see the collection.”

“The lady gets what the lady wants.” He replied, leading you to his bookshelf.

It seemed to overflow with classic literature in many languages. You looked at the titles, a few familiar and many you’d never seen or heard of. Then your eyes caught a familiar gold cover. You smirked and pulled out Fourth Wing.

“You really did read it.” You smirked.

“You and Penelope wouldn’t shut up about it, I was curious what had you so worked up. It’s not my thing but it peaked my interest.” He replied. “Especially chapter 48 in Iron Flame.”

You froze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. He leaned in close, his breath hot on your skin.

“My house. My chair. My woman.” He whispered.

You looked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. You had forgotten he’d mentioned the throne room scene.

“You…um…you know the exact chapter.” You stammered.

He smirked down at you. “Of course I do. You never told me how you felt about it.”

“I mean…obviously it’s hot.” You turned to face him. “What woman doesn’t want a man worshipping her on his knees on a throne.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Do you have a throne?” You asked.

“Not quite a throne, but I definitely have a chair we can pretend is a thrown.”

You licked your lips as you felt your pulse rising. You felt hot again. You knew why you’d come to his apartment and now was the time you stopped pretending it was innocent.

“Show me.”

Spencer gave a soft smile and led you to his room. It was neat, bed made and everything orderly. Your eyes fell upon a gorgeous leather chair near the window. It was the perfect reading chair, but tonight it was going to be a throne for him to worship you on. He walked you over and you admired it. You could see it was tall enough that your feet might dangle if you sat down, and the leather was soft. God forbid you dig your nails into it and mark the leather.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from behind you.

You felt his hands sliding up your arms, stroking your biceps gently. His breath was hot on your neck as you leaned back into him.

“Yes.” You said, eyes closing when he kissed your neck.

“Then sit down.”

You swallowed anxiously, turning to face him before sitting down. You could have sworn his eyes darkened just a bit as he moved to the floor. Surprisingly the chair was the perfect height for you to be face to face. You pulled him against you and kissed him. His hands ran through your hair and down your shoulders. You knew exactly want was coming. He pulled away and removed your shoes. As his hands moved to your jeans you feel your pulse racing and your breathing quicken. He pulls you to the edge of the chair and tugs them down your legs. The air conditioning sends goosebumps over your skin as Spencer looks up at you. His eyes met yours and you forgot to breathe. He didn’t look away as you placed kisses on your legs, creeping higher and higher up your thigh.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He said, stroking your opposite thigh. “God, you’re perfect.”

You bit your lip, having trouble forming words. All you wanted was for him to devour and absolutely worship you. His hand slid over your hips and to the top of your underwear. The second they were gone you knew you’d never be able to recover. You ached for him. Slowly he slid them down and you watched him carefully. Spencer’s eyes darkened even more at the sight of you bare before him. He could see the moisture pooling at your core and he was instantly rock hard.

“Last time…you want this?” He asked.

“Last time, yes.” You panted, “Please, God, just touch me.”

Begging wasn’t something you’d thought you’d be doing but you were desperate. He nodded, moving one leg to sit over the arm of the chair and the other over his shoulder. You nearly came as his tongue slid through your wet folds. You let out a loud gasp, your head falling back against the back of the chair. He swirled around your clit, toying with it gently.

“Spencer, fuck!” You moaned, nails digging into the leather.

He smiled as he continued his actions, lapping up your juices. His hands held you firmly in place and you squirmed under his.

“Don’t stop, please.” You whimpered.

Spencer watched you coming undone, enjoying every second of it. Watching your breathing catch when he licked your clit. You moaned even louder when he slid a finger into you. It was nearly enough to finish you. Your hand moved to his hair and you tugged at it, causing him to groan against you. The vibrations only added to the pleasure. He added another finger, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You panted, so close to cumming.

Spencer felt you clench around his fingers and he moved them faster. His tongue massaged your delicate folds until finally you couldnt hold on.

“Spence, oh, fuck…” You whimpered before coming undone.

He smiled, working you through it. Finally you could breathe again and you looked down at him. He was just watching you, stroking your thigh gently.

“You okay?” He asked.

“More than okay.” You blushed as you sat up.

“How was it?”

“It rivaled all the fantasies I had about being worshipped in a thrown”. You admitted.

[miley1442111]

Please do one where Aaron and reader are like training and the tension breaks and they kiss and there's an age difference and... yeah.

thank youuuuuu

omg thank u for requesting,i love this idea :))))))))

breaking rules mr. hotchner?- a.hotchner

a/n: i didn't imagine a fem! or male! reader so imagine what you want :)

summary: what happens when both aaron and you have to train together?

pairings: aaronhotchner x reader, platonicbauteam x reader

warnings: kissing, tension, workplace relationship, age gap, i think that's all :)

“Team training sessions, all weekend! If you can’t make it, you’ll need to make it up,” Strauss’s email made your face fall. You would be away all weekend with your sister's wedding. 

“Anyone else not making the team training?” you asked, hoping you wouldn’t be stuck with someone from another department. The entire bullpen seemed to be able to make the training and a groan made its way out of your mouth. 

“Maybe Hotch will be missing it, I think he has Jack this weekend,” Rossi smirked, a knowing look on his face. A look you badly wanted to remove, forcefully. You shot him a fake smile that made him laugh as you walked up the stairs to Hotch’s office. Everyone in the office seemed to have picked up on the weird energy between you two. His gaze always defaulted to yours, in the field he was extra protective of you, and any and all fleeting and seemingly innocent touches made your skin feel like it was on fire.  

You knocked politely on the open door and he hummed in response. You walked in and his eyes were immediately glued to you as you stood in front of him. He was obviously an authoritative figure, he was your boss after all, but conversations with him always had an underlying ease and equality to them. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked after a short moment. 

“Yes, I just wanted to let you know that I can’t make the training weekend, I’m at my sister’s wedding,” you explained quickly. “Sorry for the inconvenience. I’m sure there’s others that’ll have to make it up too-”

“I will too,” he stood from his desk, files in his hands. “How about we get ahead of it and do a few hours in the gym? You don’t have anywhere to be tonight, do you?” He asked so casually that the heat creeping up your spine seemed ridiculous. 

“That sounds fine,” You confirmed.

“Good. See you tonight then.” 

You took one step outside his office and you were met with stares from all of your co-workers. “He’s missing it too.”

“Looks like dad is getting some action tonight-” Derrick started but you hit him on the back of the head, silencing his words as the rest of the team laughed. All you could do was wait for tonight. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were on time to the office gym. It was already set up for the weekend training sessions and a wide array of mats were on the floor. You noticed Aaron sitting on a bench across the hall, a navy shirt that hugged his biceps perfectly and gym shorts that ended at his knee. 

“Hi,” You smiled from across the hall, your own gym clothes adorning your body. 

“Hi,” he smiled back. 

“I asked Spencer about what they were covering and he said just general hand-to-hand combat and practising taking a subject down so… what do you want to start with?” You asked, beginning to stretch your muscles softly. You felt his eyes lingering on you as you stretched and a shiver ran down your spine.  

“Whatever you think,” he stated, the remnants of a smirk on his lips. He must know what kind of effect he has on you, right?

“Well, maybe just some hand-to-hand, I don’t really want to pop my shoulder out of place again,” you joked, a memory from the last training day you had attended. Derrick had gotten a bit too strong and dislocated your shoulder, meaning Spencer was forced to pop it back into place with Jj and Aaron’s help. 

“Makes sense,” he smiled, a certain mysterious dampening in his usual bright smile. “You come at me, go for my waist,” he ordered.

“Your waist?” You questioned, preparing your stance regardless. 

“My gun,” he explained, preparing himself for contact. 

“Oh,” Was what you got out before you lunged forward to his waist, after a long back and forth, punches and dodges and the small smirks or grunts he continued making made you practically dizzy, until you pinned him under you, a smirk on your lips. His hands rested on your waist, both of your breaths heavily with the strenuous activity, and the tension in the air. He reached up and brushed some hair out of your face, and that was all it took. 

He grabbed your face, pulled you down and kissed you. His other hand held your waist in an almost bruising grip. You had gasped when your lips first made contact and he used that as an excuse to push his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your hands found grip on the sides of his face, some moving back to pull on his soft hair. He had sat up, the hand that had been on your cheek moved to hold the both of you up but he never broke the kiss. His hand on your waist squeezed harder as his tongue explored your mouth, an evident smirk on his preoccupied lips. You pulled away, desperate for breath. As you caught your breath, Aaron’s hand dropped from your body and rested on the mat. 

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t right, we shouldn’t have done that. I’m very sorry if you felt pressured into-“ he started apologising but you cut him off with another passionate kiss. Your hands wrapped around his neck and his hands wrapped around your torso as you deepened the kiss. He groaned into your mouth as you bit his lower lip softly, not enough to draw blood, but enough to warrant a reaction. He pulled away, an uncertain mystery playing behind his beautiful eyes. 

“You’re surprising,” he had a soft smile on his lips while his hands ran up and down your sides. 

“How so?” You smiled, your hands messing with his black hair. 

“Well, you just kissed your boss-“ he joked, and you cut him off with a push to the chest. He laughed as he fell back, hitting the soft mat. 

“Shut up,” you groaned. “You kissed me first!” 

“That I did,” he admitted, “which we should probably talk about.”

You nodded in agreement and allowed him to go first. 

“I have a romantic interest in you, and it’s fine if it’s not reciprocated. You are… much younger than me and I’d understand if you didn’t want to be with someone who has a child and isn't exactly in the prime of his life-“

Another kiss cut off his sentence, you held him closer than before, as if trying to prove you wanted this. His hands roamed your body again and you pulled away, a certain lightness in your voice. 

“I don’t just go around kissing all of my co-workers, Aaron,” you smiled. “I want this. I want you.” He barely stifled a grin at that comment. 

“Alright then. Can I take you out to dinner sometime?” He smiled, an unknown hopefulness in his eyes. 

“Yes, yes you can.” You smiled and he kissed you again, just as much passion and tension as the first. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Monday you came in, Penelope was waiting at your desk with a smile.

“Morning,” you smiled. “How was your weekend?”

“It was amazing,” she over exaggerated her words. Strange. “But not as good as yours.”

“Oh, you saw my post? Yeah the wedding was beautiful-“ 

“I saw that, but I also saw the gym cctv footage from Friday night,” she exclaimed, piquing the interest of Jj, Emily, Derrick, and Spencer. 

“What happened in the gym on Friday night?” Derrick smirked and you sent Penelope a look, one to tell her to not speak. 

“Let’s just say we might be calling y/n mom from now on,” she confirmed what all of them thought and you sighed as the onslaught began.

“You get to third base?” “In the office?!” And many other jokes and serious comments were thrown your way until you heard Spencer. 

“Derrick, you owe me 10 bucks!” He exclaimed, reminding Derrick of their bet. Derrick rolled his eyes and took out his wallet. 

“You two had a bet?!” You asked in absolute shock. 

“Yeah, it was whether or not-“ Spencer started to explain until felt a presence behind him. 

“You all call me dad?” Aaron smirked as the team's faces dropped. You smiled at him. 

“We- it’s just a-“ Spencer tried to explain but Aaron silenced him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“We have a new case, briefing starts in 5 minutes,” he shared as the team started grabbing their things for the briefing. “Oh and agent y/n, I need you in my office.”

Everyone stilled, staring at the two of you. 

“Paperwork,” he smirked, knowing the team knew about you two. 

You rolled your eyes and followed him all the same, walking into his office with a smile. He cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, despite kissing being big no in the workplace. 

You pulled away, “breaking rules Mr. Hotchner?” You smirked. 

“They’re watching,” he shrugged. “They want a show.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a short kiss to his lips, then proceeded with the actual paperwork.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

ok im listening to a spencer reid playlist and "marry me" by bruno mars came on and all i can imagine is its like a week or so after spencer had proposed, and he comes home to reader dancing/singing to the song while cleaning or baking. i would love to see this as a fic 🥺

Sneak Peek

Summary: Spencer comes home from a case to find his new fiancée, Reader, in rare form.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, kinda sunshine/grump

Content warnings: None

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Here ya go, babes 🩵

Finally, Spencer thinks when he sees his front door. For work, hours on the jet to and from Quantico don’t take as much of a toll on him as one would expect. Passing the hours with debriefs, cards, reading, and sleeping is something he’s grown accustomed to for years at the B.A.U.

This week, however, was different. Before this last-minute case in Cheyenne, Spencer popped the question to you (with the team’s help with set-up and delivery). Of course you said yes. He barely had time to fish the ring from his blazer pocket before you burst out with your answer. But you barely got to enjoy the first 24 hours of being engaged before the team was called to Wyoming the next morning.

But now, it’s Saturday, so that means you’re home. He can already hear music on the other side of the door when he twists his key. Quite an upbeat tune, unusual for your typical taste. While he sticks to classical composers, normally you’re drawn to calm acoustic songs with minimal production. But what he hears when he opens the door is pure pop.

He couldn’t help but smile as he stepped into the apartment, as the familiar scent of home hit him with the smell of something in the oven. You never cook. And you never bake. But Spencer knows what fresh cookies smell like. He followed the sources, rounding the wall that divided the entryway from the kitchen. And there was when his heart skipped a beat. You were there, in a dress, dancing and singing along with the lively tune, completely immersed in a housewife experience of your own making.

This is nothing but out of character for you. You and Spencer regularly put work first before anything. It is expected in your fields that you prioritize work over each other at times. So your wardrobe was mostly pantsuits and black pumps. Prentiss often gave you suggestions on where to shop for your go-to outfits. Which is why Spencer was so stunned to find you in a dress, flowing around your calves as you twirled on the tile floor. Your hair swayed with every movement, and the joy in your eyes was infectious. The room seemed to come alive with the energy you were exuding. 

He drank it in, marveling at the happiness radiating from his fiancée. He didn’t think simply clearing his throat would be noticeable. But it was. And suddenly, your batter-doused whisk/makeshift microphone became your weapon of choice. “Spencer!” You exclaimed.

Spencer put his hands up in immediate surrender, his heart momentarily pounding for a different reason. “Woah, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

Your footing in the small space caused you to lose the rhythm of the music as you stumbled. Your socks gave you little friction, but Spencer was quick to save you from mild embarrassment. Granted, his degrees and experience in profiling didn’t exactly prepare him for impromptu dance saves, but he caught you with surprising grace.

“Careful there,” he teased, still holding onto you. “The team will have some choice words with me if they find bruises on you, no matter where they came from.”

You scoffed. “Wow, bruises. So romantic. What a way to greet your future wife.”

Spencer shrugged before lifting you back to your feet, making sure your feet were stable before letting his hands slide from your shoulders. They glided down to your palms as he extended your arms out. “Well, I can certainly say your greeting exceeds mine by miles.” He looks up and down at your dress; a plain green that hugged you at the waist. “I didn’t know you owned any dresses.”

“Hm.” You said. Your hands rolled with his, urging your fingers to link. “I managed to slip something past the genius in this house. Guess you’re not as observant as I thought.”

Spencer’s brows rose as his jaw dropped, instantly ready to roll with this. Sarcasm was something he had to pick up quickly with you, as it’s your default tone. And you have yet to stray after three years. “I’m observant.” The shock translates through his response.

“Clearly not as much as you like to think.” You untangle one of your hands from his and it creeps to cup his cheek, rough with little stubble. “Barely a week of being engaged and you’re already slipping.” You click your tongue as you shake your head.

“I’m very observant. I notice a lot, thank you.” He pulls you close. His now free hand snaking around your waist, just letting your noses brush. He notices how your mouth opens slightly, expecting a kiss as your exhale grazes his upper lip. He was planning to kiss you then and there, and whatever happened next, he was more than happy with.

But you called him out. So now he has to prove you wrong.

“You didn’t sweep up all the flour off the floor.”

Your eyes were half-open, one of the most vulnerable looks he gets to see. But it fizzles as the information clicks in your head. “What?”

“Your socks.” He gestures down to them.

And you look. Black socks were definitely not the wisest choice.

“How many times did you screw up the cookies?” He asked.

“I didn’t screw them up… too much.”

Spencer’s brow quirked.

“Just more flour than the recipe called for. But only because the bag was so difficult to open.”

So, you spilled it. But he kept that part quiet, as you were already turning pink. “How much salt did you use?” He asks instead. Because he’s not above being too gracious.

“Not much.” You bit your lips closed. “Just the standard amount.”

“The standard amount? Did you throw some over your shoulder for luck?” He brushes some grains he spots sticking to your collarbone.

You were still pink, and Spencer could feel the heat rise off your skin. “We… may need to get more sugar from the store.”

“What did you—”

“Not important. The cookies will be ready in three minutes. So, do you want cookies or not?”

“Hm,” He says, eyes glued to your shoulder again. “So if this is sugar…” And he leans down to kiss your shoulder. His mouth is warm against your skin as it scales across the center of your clavicle. His lips brush them before leading up to your neck. 

“This is the greeting I expected.” You say.

“Oh, really?” He follows the pulse point that he’s learned makes your knees equivalent to jelly. When he kisses there, but doesn’t let his teeth scrape the delicate skin just yet. He closes his eyes, to get lost in the moment, in you, a bit faster. The excuse of sugar on your skin has long been exhausted, but you indulged regardless, indisputable by the small sounds that escape you as he kisses more. The arm that holds your waist braces to take on your weight when he nips.

And down you go. But he catches you. Once again

“Does my future wife expect more?”

You say nothing. You swallow dryly, but Spencer understands that as a yes from you. He keeps you both still. Nipping again while his other hand takes free range around your dress. It makes you mewl, and he’s close to hoisting you to bed.

“The cookies—” You remind him. “Can’t let them burn. The timer says—mm—two minutes.”

“I have plenty to keep me occupied for two minutes.”

[sabage101]

it's too funny when hotch said "remind me to have her drug tested" WITH A STRAIGHT FACE

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Gideon's plan to getting Spencer a date

Pairing : Spencer Reid x Male reader Tags : Fluff, Social awkward Reid, Getting a date Word count: 1041

The roar of the jet engines was a dull hum compared to the internal cacophony in Spencer Reid’s mind. The San Diego case, the horror of “The Tommy Killer,” was thankfully behind them. But the aftermath always lingered, a shadow that clung to the edges of his thoughts. He was also a year older, his birthday a mere blip in the chaos of their work– until now.

Gideon cleared his throat, drawing Reid’s attention. "Happy belated, spencer." He held out a small, rectangular envelope. 

Curiosity piqued despite the weight of the case, Reid carefully opened the envelope. Inside were two tickets. Two tickets to see the Washington Redskins play. Reid blinked. Football? He knew the basics, of course, had absorbed the statistics and strategies over the years through sheer proximity to Morgan and, surprisingly, Y/N..

Y/N, who was currently locked in a spirited debate with Morgan a few seats away. Y/N, whose enthusiasm for the Redskins was legendary within the BAU. Y/N, who made Reid’s palms sweat and his vocabulary shrink to a fraction of its normal size.

“I’m just saying, Morgan, their defence is going to be a huge problem for the Cowboys this season,” Y/N argued, gesturing emphatically. “Their linebacker core is completely revamped! You’re underestimating them!”

“Underestimating? Y/N, come on, you know I respect the Redskins," Morgan retorted, a playful glint in his eye. “But the Cowboys offense is going to tear them apart. Romo’s got a cannon, and Witten's always open.”

Y/N scoffed, a playful smile tugging at their lips. "Cannon? Romo chokes under pressure, Morgan, you know this. Witten’s good, I’ll give you that, but our safety’s got him covered this time."

The back-and-forth continued, a familiar and comforting sound amidst the tension of the case. Reid found himself watching Y/N, captivated as always. Y/N’s mind was a whirlwind of ideas, opinions, and observations, a constant storm of intellectual energy that both intimidated and fascinated him. He loved the way Y/N’s eyes sparkled when He were truly engaged in a discussion, the way his hands moved as he spoke, the sheer force of his personality.

Morgan, feigning exhaustion, leaned back in his seat. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I concede. For now. But I'm taking a nap. Wake me up when we land." He yawned dramatically, closing his eyes.

A triumphant grin spread across Y/N’s face. “Victory is mine!”

As Morgan settled into a nap, Gideon gave Reid a subtle nod, a silent encouragement. Reid swallowed hard, the tickets suddenly feeling like lead weights in his hand. He knew what Gideon was implying. He just didn’t know if he could actually do it. He knew very well that Y/N probably didn't see him in a romantic light at all..

Taking a deep breath, Reid rose from his seat and walked towards the now-empty seat beside Y/N. The closer he got, the faster his heart pounded. He could feel the heat rising in his face, a sure sign of his rising anxiety.

"Hey, Y/N," he managed, his voice a little higher than usual.

Y/N looked up, His expression softening from playful competitiveness to genuine warmth. "Hey Spence! What's up?"

Reid felt his throat constrict. This was it. Time to put himself out there. He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He cleared his throat, tried again. “So,” he began, fiddling with the tickets in his hand, “Gideon, uh, he gave me… these.” He held out the tickets, almost as if they were fragile artifacts.

Y/N’s eyes widened as He focused on the tickets. "Redskins? No way! Are those…?"

Reid nodded, feeling a surge of relief that Y/N seemed genuinely excited. "Yeah. He got them for me. For my birthday."

"That's awesome! You're a Redskins fan?" Y/N asked, their enthusiasm infectious.

Reid hesitated. "Well, not exactly. I mean, I know about them. I know their players, their… their strategies. I just… I haven't really been to a game before."

Y/N’s smile widened. "Seriously? You've never been to a Redskins game? You're missing out! It's an experience." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Wait a minute… Gideon got you Redskins tickets? That seems oddly specific."

Reid felt his cheeks flush again. He was terrible at lying. "He, uh… Wants  me to… experience new things?" It sounded weak, even to his own ears.

Y/N chuckled, clearly seeing through his flimsy excuse. "Right. 'Experiencing new things.' Sure. Well, either way, those are awesome tickets. You gonna go?"

This was his chance. The opening he needed. He took another deep breath, trying to ignore the frantic beating of his heart. “I was wondering,” he stammered, “if maybe… if you’d want to go with me?”

The words hung in the air, thick with unspoken meaning. Reid braced himself for rejection, for the polite excuse, for the uncomfortable silence.

Y/N’s expression softened, a thoughtful look crossing his face. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting Reid's. He tried to read his expression, but it was impossible.

Finally, He smiled. A genuine, warm smile that made Reid’s heart skip a beat. “I would love to, Spence. Are you kidding? I’d love to go.”

Relief washed over Spencer in a tidal wave. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Really? That’s… that’s great.”

“Yeah, it is! It’ll be fun. We can grab some stadium food, yell at the refs, and I can finally explain to you why the zone blitz is the single greatest defensive strategy in the history of football.”

Reid chuckled, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “I look forward to it.” He paused, then added, “And maybe… after the game, we could grab some dinner? Or something?”

Y/N’s smile widened. “Sounds like a plan, spence.”

The rest of the flight passed in a blur. As the jet began its descent, Gideon turned to Reid, a knowing smile on his face. "So," he said quietly, "did you ask him?"

Reid nodded, unable to suppress the grin that spread across his face. "He said yes."

Gideon chuckled. "Good. Sometimes, Kid, all you need is a little push."

[tjwritesfanfics]

Jealous Hotchner is kind of hot... How do I find more stories of that?

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Quick Spencer Blurb <3

tw: teasing, nausea

wc: 400 (ish)

The train takes way too long.

This was the first of many reasons why Spencer hated them.

They smelled weird.

People would loudly talk on their phones.

The bathrooms were too small.

Children got bored and loud, running around on the train.

But the worst part about the train was the motion sickness.

It was written all over his face, which he had just assumed was green since he had been nauseous for about a full hour now.

The train made its final local stop before it raced across the Plains to it's final destination; nothing but grains and the occasional tree passing by.

Reid felt some relief when the train was stopped, but it was brief since a toddler that had just been dragged on by his mother started screaming about not wanting to be on said train.

It's not that he wasn't sympathetic to the toddler's yells. In fact, he agreed with them. But the screaming was not helping his headache.

His headache was almost worse company than that of Derek Morgan, who had just noticed how green his companion was looking.

“You look like shit man.”

Reid rolled his eyes. “Thanks.” He grumbled.

“You feelin’ okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don't projectile all over me.”

Spencer wished Morgan would be a little quieter, and would just go back to watching whatever was on his phone.

Just then, you sat down on the opposite side of the aisle.

Spencer looked across and gave you a weak smile, which caused your light demeanor to shift.

"Reid...you okay?"

"Y-yeah."

You rolled your eyes and pulled a pack of gum out of your bag and held it out to him.

His stomach lurched and his eyes closed as the train started started to move again.

"I find that chewing gum helps me with the motion sickness."

Reid stammered out a thank you, but didn't take a piece.

You just left the pack on the tray table in front of him, popping a piece in her own mouth, before sitting back fully in your seat.

You loved trains, not for how annoying certain patrons could be, nor for their obnoxious smells, but simply for the views. It was gorgeous watching the country speed by.

Spencer had never been one to like gum--majority of the people he had been around, who chew gum, simply did not know how to chew with their mouths closed.

He trusted you though, so maybe he'd try a piece.

After popping a piece in his mouth, Spencer surely thought you were a witch since almost all of the nausea he had been feeling was starting to disappear.

Trident had never tasted so good in his entire life.

[an1t4k]

SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN KIDS!!

[boyinafandom]

Would it be so wrong to headcanon that you rub you’re knuckles down Spencer’s spine, when you guys were JUST friends, and then when you started dating, he did it to you, before kissing you’re neck and hugging you from behind???? Wrong place? Wrong time? Ok I’ll stfu…

[mistyshane30]

Can someone please write a fic abt Cat Adams x Reader? Where the fem reader is working for BAU.

[cancersunthatsit]

HEAR ME OUT

post-prison reid & reader !!!!! Fanfic they are not together just sort of situationship

I LOVE WHEN SPENCER BECOMES SHITY AND HAVE MAJOR DICKHEAD ATTITUDE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭