#dr spencer reid fan fic

[esote-rika]

wondering why the hell won't my brain fall asleep only to realize that the tea I drank before bed is caffeinated anyways it is three am and I am yearning for Spencer Reid and I have a roommate!reader one shot idea which may evolve into a collection ☺ just gotta figure out which season I want to vaguely set it in.

[readinglatenights]

I saw your looking for Spencer Reid fanfic reccomendations, can you share ones you’ve enjoyed I’m also looking for some recs? 😊

yessssss!!!! idk what specific fics you're into/what you've read, so i'm going to give basic but VERY necessary reads + my reviews off the top of my headd

Wlid nights, wild nights by persephonesgrace on Wattpad > JUST FINISHED READING THIS!! has jumped to my FAVORITE fanfic because of just how immersive and true to the characters it is. The story is something out of a real angsty romantic novel that you'd find at a book store. reader (Y/N) is an imperfect character that you just can't help but root for, and Spencer is written so perfectly. ALL OCS ARE ALSO VERY WELL WRITTEN AND COOL AF. You'll be left wanting more in the best way possible after finishing it.

Here to Misbehave by @imagining-in-the-margins on Ao3 (and tumblr) > age gap, but genuinely if you don't vibe with it, i highly reccomend this author!! such a great piece with a happy ending. also silly goofy meeting due to said age gap which i find funny af

Annoyance by Marli13 on Ao3 > SLOW BURN. ENEMIES TO LOVERS. HAPPY ENDING. I'M CRYING!!!!!!!!!!! She Has Found Me by dontkissthewriter on Ao3 > shorter fic that still sticks in my brain because I love the mutual pining. super sweet and spicy all at once that makes me kick my feet. some authors on tumblr i highly reccomend! - @reiderwriter - LOVED THEIR KINKTOBER - @golden1u5t - @fortheloveofwonderland - @reidsdaisies - @strawbeerossi - (their current story, August, is killing me.) - @reidmotif okay i can't think if any others right now... if you need more please ask me!!

[mrs-harrington-reid]

Begin Again

Snow on the beach

" I can’t speak, afraid to jinx it. I can’t even dare to wish it but your eyes are flying saucers from another planet. Now I’m all for you like Janet can this be a real thing, can it?” - Taylor Swift

Pairing: Post Prison Spencer x Single Mom Reader

Summary: Spencer's therapist had encouraged him to get back into the dating scene to improve his mental wellness but after multiple failed blind dates Spencer feels that it is doing the exact opposite. That is until JJ and Garcia set him up with you.

Warnings: talking about traumatic dates, fluffity fluffy fluff, post prison spencer just being a little lover boy cutie pahtootie, lmk if I missed anything else!

Begin Again (Masterlist)

It wasn't that the girls Spencer went on blind dates with were horrible, they just weren't exactly the best. His first date was with a nice women that was in the same book club as Garcia. The date had gone wonderful until she asked if he had a chip in his neck so that the government could track him, and he would've laughed if she wasn't being completely serious. The next one was a girl who used to nanny Henry, that was all fun and games until her ex boyfriend showed up at the restaurant and she left Spencer with nothing but the bill.

Then there was the one who had too much wine and threw up all over him, the one who believed that the earth was flat and that the holocaust never happened, the one who just wanted a signed book from Rossi, and so on. He had been on at least ten failed dates within the spand of three months and to say he was over it would be an understatement.

"Oh come on Spence just give this one a try." JJ pleaded as they walked into the elevator with Garcia.

"I just don't see how this girl could possibly be any better than the last ten that you and Garcia set me up with."

"But she is!" Garcia exclaimed. "You see me and the all so lovely JJ realized the problem was that we hadn't picked a girl for you together as a team so that's exactly what we did and she will blow your little genius mind."

"fine." He huffed in defeat "but if this date ends horribly you have to promise to never set me up again."

Both the girls agreed to the deal so Garcia sent him your number as fast as she possibly could've.

All he could do was pray that they were right and that this date would turn out to be better than the last ones.

_

You adjusted your knitted sweater while you intensely examined yourself in the mirror. You wondered if you had put on too much makeup or if your tan knitted sweater with jeans and converse was too lazy for a first date.

"Can you stop fixing something every five seconds your seriously stressing me out." Your best friend Liv pleaded behind you while her head hung off the edge of your bed.

"I'm scared liv this is the first date I've been on in a long time and I don't want it to turn into a dumpster fire of a night." You sighed and brushed out the curls in your hair one more time.

"I think its going to be just fine from what you told me this guy is just as awkward as you are so maybe it's like a match made in dork heaven." She laughed.

"He seems super sweet I'm just scared he's going to run for the hills as soon as I tell him about Autumn."

“If he has a problem with the fact that you have a daughter he clearly isn't mature enough to handle a real relationship and needs to start acting his age."

Most men you tried to date either immediately ran or told you that they "weren't looking for anything serious right now" after you told them a out Autumn. You just prayed that Spencer would be the exception considering he was six years older than you and had experienced a little more life than you had.

The ping of a text message distracted you from your previous thoughts. "Okay liv, Spencer is going to be here in five minutes to pick me up. Theo is dropping Autumn off at seven and remember please she needs to be in bed by eight or else she gets grumpy in the morning and I'll be home at least by eight thirty." You rambled.

"don't you worry about Autumn she's going to have a great time with the world's greatest god mother. Also I already took the day off so go clean out your cobwebs tonight, I got this." You both let out a laugh at her last comment.

"I just feel so guilty leaving Autumn the day she comes home from her dad's. I promise I will be home by at least nine so maybe I can call in too and we can go get brunch in the morning?" You suggested fixing your earrings; finally feeling less anxious about how this would all play out.

Before liv could answer you the doorbell rang signaling you that either Spencer was waiting or Theo had been there early to drop Autumn off. Your heart rate picked up as you grabbed your purse and walked to the front door and slowly turned the knob.

"Hi you must be Y/N" Spencer smiled when you opened the door. You hadn't expected him to walk all the way up to your door and knock. Most of the guys you'd gone out with were the drive by and honk type, especially Autumns father Theo when you were dating.

"Yes I am and you must be the famous Dr. Spencer Reid I've heard so much about." You beamed as you walked out and shut your door behind you as soon as you heard liv open her mouth.

"Only good things I hope?"

"I think we both know JJ and Penelope would never dare to say anything bad about you." You said as you both approached his car, blushing when he opened the car door for you.

You were sort of confused at the fact that he insisted on picking you up. You could’ve sworn that you remembered JJ saying something about how he hated driving.

The drive was mostly silent and sort of awkward on your way to the unknown restaurant that Penelope had insisted he take you to after you told her that you enjoyed pasta, she had made your guys' reservation and everything. And when you arrived he opened your door for you once again. Even after being told almost every detail about the man standing before you still felt extremely nervous to make conversation.

"So JJ tells me that your a teacher." He attempts to make small talk.

"I am. I teach kindergarten, honestly I wanted to be an English Lit professor but you kinda of have to wait for one of those guys to die before the position is opened." You winced at your own shitty joke. You and Liv had always joked about how college professors looked like they were decomposing but Spencer didn't know that. And now that you’re thinking about it you remember Penelope telling you that Spencer was a professor when he wasn't with the BAU.

He let out at small laugh and you were absolutely flabbergasted. He got your joke? And he laughed? You were starting to wonder if this was just a laugh at all her jokes type of flirt tactic. But then again JJ had told you that he was sort of oblivious and bad at flirting.

"That's so true. You know the average age of college professors in the United States is 42 but there are significantly more faculty that reported their age at 55 and above so technically there's a lot more old professors in the USA than young professors." He rambled.

"I didn't know that." You smiled. He did understand your joke.

When you arrived at the front door of the restaurant you were met with a sign that said "CLOSED" in bold letters. You swear you could've cried you were only twenty minutes into the date and it had been so wonderful until this.

"oh...well if you wanted we could find a food truck and eat in my car? But only if you want to." He suggested, anxiously waiting for your response. You noticed him fidgeting with his fingers and you immediately interpreted that he was outside his comfort zone asking you to stay but he was still trying nonetheless.

"This isn't your master plan to drive to some viewpoint and get me in your back seat is it?" you smiled trying to ease his anxiety.

"I promise" he held his hands up.

You both walked back to his car unable to stop smiling. He was glad that you already weren't like the other girls he had gone on dates with. And you were happy that he wasn't as douche like the other guys you had been on dates with but you also still needed to tell him about autumn before you fully came to any conclusion about his character.

"Spencer before we continue this date I have something I need to tell you." You stopped walking and looked at him and he had fully set into a panic. This is it. This is when you would turn out to be just as insane as the other ones. He braced himself for your next words. "I have a one year daughter. I needed to tell you before I got too attached and you decided to run. I told JJ and Penelope not to tell you so that I could see how you reacted."

He exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding in. "That's a relief."

You quirked your brow at him. "So you don't care that I have a daughter at home?"

"Not at all" he reassured you "I actually quite like kids. I've never had any of my own but I have my two godsons and they're wonderful." You smiled at him. How could he have been so damn perfect.

You continued walking and he opened the door for you once again when you reached his car. And once you were both in the small talk started up again. "So I assume you know how I know JJ and Garcia but how did you meet them." He was still astounded at the fact that they both knew someone this perfect and didn't set you up with him sooner.

"I used to be Henry's teacher and then when my I had my daughter me and JJ were in a mom group together and we became friends. And then I met Penelope when JJ invited me out one night and I've been friends with the both of them ever since." You responded. "And I'm guessing your Henry's godfather that he dressed up as for Halloween when I had him as a student?"

"How did you know? That was such a long time ago I'm surprised you even remember that." He smiled at the fond memory.

"Because it was probably the cutest little costume I had ever seen and extremely creative might I add. My daughter was a pumpkin for her first Halloween and Henry beat her in cuteness by a long shot." You gushed. "But don't ever tell her I said that."

"Can you tell me about her? Your daughter." Spencer asked. You felt like you needed to pinch your arm to see if this was real.

"Her name is Autumn. I named her that because she was born in October and my favorite poem is Autumn by Alice Clary. She has so much personality for a one year old and she’s just so beautiful and amazing. I never saw myself being a mom but now that I am I couldn’t imagine anything else." He admired the way your eyes sparkled and your voiced softened when you talked about her. It was so incredible how in love you were with being a mother. He parked the car and you both walked out and towards the first food truck that you had passed neither of you cared what kind of food it was considering you were absolutely starving.

Within the next couple of hours you had both ordered your food and we're currently eating it as you spoke on the hood of Spencer's car. He has his head thrown back laughing as you told a story about one of your lousy dates that you had been on in the past.

"So I really thought I got stood up and I was ready to leave until this guy shows up and explained to me that he had to have his mom drop him off because he missed the bus. And then he continues to tell me all about how he still lived in her basement and was unemployed." You laughed.

"What did you tell him."

"I pretended that Autumns dad called me and told me that she was sick and I had to leave immediately." You responded "and then he asked me if I could take him back to his mom's house on my way. I ended up taking him home and paying for my own dinner."

"I can do you one better." Spencer laughed "One time JJ set me up with this woman from your mom group named Amy and she seemed okay until she started drinking and in the middle of me telling her what I do for a living she threw up all over me in the middle of the restaurant. I had to carry her out because she could barely walk and I swear my car smelled like puke for a week."

"why would JJ even set you up with her" you wheezed "we literally call her alcoholic Amy. She always has a flask in her son’s diaper bag it’s absurd.” You giggled.

Spencer sat there admiring your beauty as you laughed. Something about you made him feel so comfortable. In the short time you'd known each other you made him feel so comfortable that he didn't need to hide behind all his knowledge. Comfortable enough that he could just be a carefree and casual version of himself that he barely even knew existed. He felt bold and confident in your presence and it made him so truly happy.

Your phone starting to ring. You picked it up extremely fast, scared that it was Liv wanting to face time to tell you that something was wrong with Autumn. But Penelope's name and face was the only thing that covered your screen.

"Oh look who it is." You giggled and flashed your phone at Spencer before you answered. "Hey pen, what's up?"

"So I was calling to ask how the date went but then I realized that I had gotten the confirmation for your guys' reservation at six this morning and I thought it was weird but sei la vie you know?" You and Spencer smiled at her rambling "But then I looked at the website and these people are open at six in the freaking morning! So turns out I made your reservation for seven thirty am not seven thirty pm cause they're closed at five which is completely bonkers if you ask me." She took a second to finally breathe "so I am so sorry if your date got ruined. Ugh and you were the first good one we set him up with too but I'll fix it no worries my love."

"Pen I'm gonna say your hours too late on this call but your all good we found something else to do so no worries." You laughed and turned your screen so that Penelope could see Spencer sitting next to you.

"Oh look at that you guys are still out. I would like to end this call with a quick" she cleared her throat preparing for her next words "I win Spencer, I told you she was a good one! ha!" After those last words she hung up.

"oh my goodness I didn't even realize what time it was" you gasped when you looked at the time on your phone and saw that It was almost midnight. "I'm so sorry I kept you out this late."

"No really your okay. I'd be lying if I didn't already see the time a while ago, I just didn't want this to end so fast." He admitted and it made you heart absolutely melt.

"If I didn't have autumn waiting at home for me I would totally stay for longer but I really should get going." You sighed.

He nodded and took your guys' garbage to throw away before he opened the passenger door for you to hop in. After he got back into the car and put his seat belt on he felt the need to ask you about your previous marriage. Something intrigued him about the fact that you had gotten divorced for what he considered to be at a young age.

“So I know this is sort of first date taboo but um, why did you get divorced? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to I was just kind of curious because I just feel like twenty eight is a young age to get divorced.”

“Oh no I really don’t mind talking about it.” You reassured him. “Me and Theo met in high school. Honestly it was one of those cliche high school sweethearts type of things. I was a cheerleader; he was the captain of the basketball team and our parents were friends so we just thought why not? It seemed right at the time but after I got pregnant with autumn everything changed so I filled for divorce before she was born.” “you know it’s actually proven that children who never experience their parents unhappy relationships actually live a much happier and healthier life than those who experience their parents divorce.” He tried to make you feel better about your failed marriage in his own special way.

“I hope that’s the case with Autumn” you sighed.

“I’m sure it will be. I know we haven’t known each other for very long but you seem like a really good mom.” He smiled as you pulled into your driveway. Neither of you were ready for the night to end but you knew it had to eventually.

“I’ll walk you to your door” he cleared his throat before exiting his car. He opened the door and you both silently walked to the front door but as you went to turn the knob Spencer stopped you. “I’m going to ask you a question and you can feel free to tell me no but it’s going to drive me crazy if I don’t ask. Can I kiss you?”

“yeah” you let out softly. He placed his hand on your cheek and slowly leaned down until your lips met. You moved your arms to rest on his shoulders while he moved his other hand to your waist. Something as simple as a kiss had never felt so perfect to you.

That was until Liv opened the door and cleared her throat in an incredibly overdramatic manner. “Hi I’m Olivia, Y/N’s roommate.” You and Spencer pulled away from each other, cheeks flushed and chests heaving.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Spencer” Olivia waited for a handshake that was never going to happen.

“He has a thing with germs”, “I have a thing with germs” you both stated at the exact same time.

“Anyway I should get inside now I had a fun night with you Spencer, feel free to text me anytime.” You smiled at each other with a silent understanding before he walked away.

you walked past liv to get inside. “So coming home after curfew young lady. Tsk. tsk. Did you get lucky?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“no he was a perfect gentleman and we just got lost in conversation.” You beamed.

“I imagine it was hard to have a conversation with his tongue down your throat!”

“that was the only time we kissed tonight! I really like him liv something about this guy just feels so different. It feels like I was meant to meet him you know.” Liv let out a small laugh but you were completely serious. You knew Spencer Reid was about to change your life you just didn’t know how yet.

“oh my goodness and what was that germ thing about. I mean the man wouldn’t shake my hand but he would swap saliva with you?”

“you know it’s actually more cleanly to kiss than shake hands.”

liv just shook her head “you two really were made for each other. I’m going to bed now but I will be ready for brunch in the morning.” She said before she walked to her room. You threw yourself on your couch and you couldn’t help but kick your feet at just how happy you were and little did you know Spencer was just as giddy as he walked into his apartment.

-

A/N: sorry this took my so long to get this out I’m revamping my fics rn so hopefully I’ll be posting more soon! I hope you enjoyed this and heads up I have not proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes you come across. I appreciate feedback and I hope y’all have a wonderful day and lmk if you would like to be added in the taglist💕

also if any of y’all are into the Harry Potter universe please feel free to check out my other fic im working on called: The Alchemy

Taglist: @witchsbitchestime @sonicthehedgedoggo @feyresqueen @donttrustlove @alcoholandcakes @person-005 @ilwsma @mega-kittyglitter-1 @creative-heart @chicken-fifi

[cumulo-stratus]

reader being flustered at small touches from Spencer? like touch-starved spencer who would be all over reader when alone?

Fantozzi[s.r]

The BAU decides to have a movie night at Rossi's house, and Spencer you and Spencer find a quiet corner to sit in. You both fall asleep and cuddling ensues..

WARNINGS- established relationship, pronouns used, mentions of alcohol

Spencer reid x male reader ][ fluff, secret relationship ][ masterlist

a/n- ugh this is so cute, i know it's a little different but i hope you enjoy anon!

1.3k

It was a quiet night at Rossi's. The team had gathered for a quiet night together, and Rossi graciously offered up his mansion. 

By 8:30, everyone had arrived and was gathered in the large living room sipping on various drinks from cocktails, to seltzer. You and Spencer arrived together, as you had driven him straight from the office after finishing the never ending paperwork. 

Everyone was spread out on the various leather couches, settees, and chairs. You and Spencer had found a spot next to each other on a large chair. Spencer was sunk into the large saggy chair, and you were perched on the wide armrest, leaning against Spencer's side, a seltzer in your hand. Spencer's hand loosely gripped yours discreetly at your side. 

Spencer got clingy when he was tired, and by clingy I mean touchy. But you guys had not exactly told the team about your relationship yet, so Spencer had to settle for discreetly holding your hand. 

Neither you nor your boyfriend had been paying much attention to the conversations going on around you, until Penelope called you and your boyfriend's name. 

“Brainiac, Pretty Boy, we’re watching a movie for team bonding! What do you wanna watch?” Penelope's voice was giddy as she yelled across the room to the couple. Everyone gave a collective eye roll when she said team bonding, as while you and Spencer weren't paying attention, there had been extensive arguing over watching a movie, and penelope's main argument was that it would serve as “team bonding”. Everyone dismissed it first until hotch nodded and agreed with Penelope- it was settled.

“Derek wants to watch die hard, and although I love my chocolate thunder- no. JJ thinks 10 things i hate about you, and Rossi wants to watch some old italian movie-” Penelope was interrupted in the middle of listing the options by an annoyed Rossi, “its Fantozzi actually, a cinematic masterpiece of the 70’s..” Rossi would've continued, but Penelope waved him off and continued listing. 

“And I think we should watch the princess bride, aka the best option!” Penelope spoke with a giddy glee, but her face fell when Spencer gained a look of confusion and asked what that movie was about. 

“You’ve never seen Princess Bride?? Spencer Walter Reid- I demand we watch it right now.” Spencer was a little taken aback by Penelope's insistence, but obliged, agreeing to watch the movie. 

Not 30 minutes later, the lights were off and Rossi tried to figure his own TV while JJ made popcorn. Eventually Penelope just took the remote out of Rossi's hand, tired of him struggling. 

“I'll take that as my cue to get popcorn” Spencer said as he lifted himself with a heave from the large leather chair. But you grabbed his arm with a pout on your lips at the loss of warmth, “where are you going?”

Spencer chuckled lightly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as he comforted you,  “well you want popcorn right?” Spencer's tone was a bit teasing, but loving nonetheless. 

“fiiiine!” You let go of Spencer's hand and sigh dramatically, flopping back into the large leather seat as Spencer turns his back to you, chuckling, to get popcorn. 

A few minutes later, Spencer returned with a big bowl of buttery popcorn and a blanket he'd picked up on the way in his arms, a timid smile on his lips. 

Your face lit up despite the now dark room when your boyfriend entered. “Popcorn!!” You spoke with glee and Spencer smiled at his boyfriend. 

Everyone began to take their places and you and your boyfriend settled in next to each other. There was a blanket over you and Spencer's laps, and the large popcorn bowl sat on top. Spencer leaned into his boyfriend's side, causing you to blush a bit  at the contact, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.

The movie started, and everyone was silent, enjoying the movie. And by the time they had gotten to the fight scene on the cliff, the amount of comments you heard coming from your right had died down. 

When you noticed the lack of facts about fencing, or the architecture, or something, you looked down at your boyfriend, to find him half asleep, his chin resting on his fist. 

His eyes were half closed, and he took long blinks, before perking up again for a second.

“Spence?”

The sound of your voice startled him, causing him to jump a bit and rub his eyes saying, “yeah I'm awake- I'm here-” your boyfriend was very clearly not very awake. 

Less than a minute later, Spencer was falling asleep in his hand again. You just sighed and smiled to yourself knowing he needed the sleep. 

By the time you got to the halfway point in the movie, you felt a weight slump against your shoulder. You didn't have to look to know it was Spencer. 

You could already feel the heat creeping up your cheeks and behind your ears at the contact. Spencer was clinging to you like a koala, which he tended to do in his sleep often. 

Spencer didn't get a ton of physical love as a kid, and not much as a teen and young adult- so meeting you was a bit of a change. But a very welcome change. 

Spencer shifted a bit, and his face was now tucked into your neck, his arms were wrapped tightly around you, and one of his legs slightly overlapping with yours. 

You were a puddle pretty much, but your head was on a swivel, making sure your coworkers were too absorbed in the movie to notice the two guys cuddling in the back. 

But that didn't last long as within minutes your head had dipped down to lay on Spencer's, your eyelids getting heavier by second. 

Finally, the weight became too much and you let your eyes stay closed this time, drifting off peacefully as you snuggled farther into Spencer, forgetting where you were. 

Spencer was woken up by the lights being turned on, blinding him a bit despite his eyes being closed. Still half asleep, Spencer grumbled a bit and shifted around, trying to stuff his face further into your shoulder to block out the light.

But what caused him to lift his head from the warmth and peace of your neck, was the sound of giggling and the click of a photo being taken. When Spencer finally managed to peel his eyes open, he found most of the team staring at him. And then he remembered why they were probably staring. 

there were some mixed reactions, as previously mentioned- penelope was giggling to herself at the photo she had just taken. Both JJ and Emily had unsurprised smiles on their faces. Your boss smiled at your boyfriend and shook his head slightly. Rossi just didn’t care, more interested in his cigar.

Spencer was finally awake enough to register what was going on and blushed, hard. Even the tips of his ears were pink as he tucked a piece of hair behind it like he always did. Spencer looked down, stuttering. 

“I- well, he was tired and he- he didn’t mean to fall asleep on me and-“

Derek cut him off, “so, pretty boy and brainiac huh, took ‘em long enough,” Derek was dismissive, it was no surprise to him. He didn't miss the glances you threw at each other from across the room.

You were blissfully unaware of what the whole team had witnessed as you finally came too, mumbling something about five more minutes to spencer. Spencer couldn't help but have a lovesick smile on his face at your cuteness, the big strong FBI agent with a gun- grumbling about five more minutes in the lanky genius’s arms.

The End

Taglist- @spencers1wifey | @mvndfvelds | @mindfullycriminal | @luce-reid |@ferrjulie | @khxna | @il0vebeingdelulu

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[constantlyembarrassed]

Just Some Light Stalking

Summary: Penelope has been pushing Spencer Reid to get some form of social media for years. Suddenly, he has an Instagram acount? 

Paring: Spencer Reid x Reader

Authors Note: Hi! This is my first post! If you see this please interact :) I would love to meet more people in this community! Oh and the "..." show the change to the alternating story or time.

Warnings: None

Spencer had never been one for cell phones. Let alone social media. Despite Penelope's constant insistence, Spencer only used his cell for the occasional work call.

Yet, there it was. Spencer Reid's Instagram account. The profile wasn't blank. Minimal, yes, but not blank. The account had a profile picture, name, and, pronouns. But just one. One tagged post from its only follower.

. . .

"Pleaseeee," you begged. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his bisep, leaning all your body weight on Spencer. His opposite hand held your white heels and clutch from the night as you walked home. "It won't kill you, Spence."

"Actually, Mobile phones release radiofrequency energy, or radio waves, that can be absorbed by bodily tissues. In the past, studies have linked heavy mobile phone use to certain brain tumors. Not to mention the chemical effects-," Spencer began. Somehow, he still managed to use his hands (though full) while speaking.

"Spencer," you loudly interjected. Dragging out the "r" in his name as you spoke.

"Why is using social media so important?" He said, furrowing his eye brows.

"Because."

"Y/n, because, is the worst explanation you could possibly provide," Spencer chuckled.

. . .

Why would Spencer Reid have an Instagram account. More importantly, why was he not following his favorite tech analyst ... or JJ, Emily, Morgan, Rossi, even Hotch. His only Follower was someone named, y/n? Who was y/n? Why didn't Garcia know y/n?

Y/n. A college girl in Virginia. Class of 2025. Recent posts for the school rivalry game, her cat, her birthda- .

"Oh. My. God" Garcia said out loud. Her fingers had stopped typing to stare blankly at the screen. "Oh my god," she repeated. "Oh my god, oh my god!" Now she fully stood up, frantically shaking her hands.

The cover photo was your favorite of the night. The club lighting was dark, almost black. Purely lit by the disposable flash. Your dress was white, covered with blue and green flowers. You were blowing out the "21" cake candles. Spencer sat to the left, his arm resting on the back of your chair. A smile of pure adoration across his face as he watched you. The only post Spencer Reid's Instagram account was tagged in. Posted by y/n. His only follower.

Almost immediately, the line boomed,"DEREK MORGAN!"

"Whoa-Whoa, baby girl, what's wrong?" He said in a concerned tone.

"Did you know?" She spoke accusingly. "Did you know about her. How could you not tell me. Me of all people. I love love. I -" She said overdramatically.

"Garcia, you know I love you, but I have no idea what you're talking about." He replied, smirking.

"How, Derek Morgan, could you not tell me about boy wonder's girlfriend!"

. . .

"My man!" Derek exclaimed. He walked through the bull pen with an extra pep in his step the next mroning. Spencer grimaced at the call while sipping his coffee. "A little birdy told me something," he followed with a rythem in his voice. A large grin was spread on his face.

"Oh, Do tell." Prentiss said comming from the kitchen with a fresh cup.

"Pretty Ricky here, has been holding out on us." Derek said, gesturing to Spencer.

"Holding out?" An anoyed Spencer replied.

"Spencer Reid's got a girlfriend." Derek declared.

Spencer's shock manifested as he almost spit out the coffee he was drinking, clumsily fumbling with the cup.

Once Spencer finally regained a shred of composure, he swolowed hard, licking his lips before frantically asking,"h-how did you even?".

"You may be the genius, but I know all." Garcia said, smirking at the good doctor as she headed to the round table.

[sweetismyaddiction]

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SUCROSE

Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer gets courage to tell what he truly feels (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)

Word account: 1271

Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, 

A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like, and comment. I am accepting suggestions for the next parts. Please be nice. The Gif is not mine. Credits to the oner

Chapter 4: Declaration

Spencer’s Point of View

As soon as we are back to the job, it seems that the only thing people know to talk about is her.

I am glad they liked her. It is a good thing. But I can't help that little jealousy lingering in my stomach.

One of the things that makes everything worse is the fact that right now, I am in the jet with the team, going for a case away from her, away from my most sweet Sugar, that I daydream about actually tasting.

“So, that girl… she is marriage material.”

“Rossi is the one to know. He has ben married so many times”

Morgan chuckles at his own joke.

“Which makes me an expert, I recognize marriage material when I see it. And that girl…”

“Rossi is right, she is the type to commit.”

Why is Hotch interfering? He usually separates personal involvement and work place.

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Reid, if you don’t step on, make a move… you may lose the chance. A woman does not wait forever.”

“Why is everybody getting so involved in my personal life?”

“Because you don’t have much of a personal life.”

“I have so much not one of you knew about her until I introduced her and she has been my friend for years.”

“Do you want to be her friend, or do you wish to be more?”

“If you feel insecure, just let me remind this genius brain that she proudly said you are friends and affirmed that she does love you, and that she felt no shame admitting it.”

“It amuse us that you ain’t a couple yet.”

—-----------------------------------

The conversation keeps repeating in my head, and I should take the risk, she deserves to know about my feelings… I don’t want to ruin our friendship… we could be more, I wish to be more… be breve Spencer, she never will be mean to you, there is no reason to be afraid. I will write a letter and hope for the answer.

—-----------------------------------

Dear Sugar

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." - Jane Austen, from "Pride and Prejudice"

As much information as my mind can contain, nothing seems enough to describe my feelings for you. I am aware of your taste for Austin, I even consider receding her books to you but I fear my mouth will betray me, that my feelings will take over and my nerves will stop me from doing what I so much want to.

I will not be able to tell you all the thoughts that run in my imagination when I think of you. You. My Sugar. Not truly mine, but I strongly wish for that to become true.

Sugar, I am yours, I am all yours, body, soul, mind, beliefs… I pray that, if there is a haven for me to be blessed with your presence, because you are my paradise. You are my love. My muse. And so much more

"Love is the poetry of the senses." - Honoré de Balzac

You awakened me, I didn’t know the world could be so cozy, that being alive could be so wonderful, until we met. A rainy day, that a stranger just took under my umbrella. Change all, that simple act, that smile, the bad jokes… the more I know you, the more I want.

You are something I never thought to get in my life, cause I didn’t even know it existed, they don’t talk about it, they don’t write about it, they don’t paint it. They try, as I am doing right now. And we all fail, cause it is impossible to describe. I didn’t believe in the impossible until I met you.

"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired." - Robert Frost

I wish for you to want me too, for my Sugar to love her Sugarpout. 

I may not have much to offer you, but I offer all I have, I give you all I have. I donate all my being for you.

"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own." - Robert A. Heinlein

I wish for you to be happy, even if I am not your happiness.

I would never interfere with your well being, all I wish is the best for you.

I love you.

Love you so much.

If you ask, I am out of your life, even if that is not what I want.

As much as I want for you to be mine as I am yours.

What I truly, dearly and onest want and wish for is for your safety and happiness.

"Love is not just a feeling; it is a calling, a force that can transform and redeem even the most broken of souls. It is the fire that burns within us, the light that guides us through the darkest of nights. Love is the eternal thread that weaves together the tapestry of our existence." - Fyodor Dostoevsky, from "The Brothers Karamazov"

Infinity yours, Sugarpout.

"Love is the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods." - Plato

—------------------------------

I sent the letter to her, and my heart sinks in my chest, anxiety runs to all my cells. The air seems not to get to my lungs, I can only imagine her.

Hope for a positive answer.

Hope she understands my feelings.

Hope she won't leave me.

—------------------------------------

Y/N’s Point of view

My eyes couldn’t believe it.

My heart skipped beats,and then it has never beaten faster.

It is a love letter.

Sugarpout wrote me a lover letter.

I am excited, happy… there are so many emotion.

I am knocking at his door. And I can not restrain myself, just using my key and open it, searching for my love.

As soon as my eyes land on him, is like if the sun is kissing me. I hold his letter in one hand, and my letter in the other.

He is looking at me, expectant, anxious.

I rise my piece of paper, that contain just a phrase, well… two phrases.

—------------------------------

I LOVE YOU

Ps: Yes, I want to be your girlfriend.

—------------------------------

He is also smiling, looking my letter that practically covers my face, with a gentle touch he takes the paper from my hands.

“I know I could have written something better, but after… I was just so anxious. I love you Spencer Walter Reid. I love you Sugarpout. My Sugarpout”

“I love you. Deep. Infinity. Just as gravity binds celestial bodies together, love intertwines souls in an invisible cosmic dance. And I hope to dance with you in the infinity and beyond that"

“May I touch you?”

“Yes.” Hands on my back, as I hug him back, letting my hand touch his soft hair. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His lips find mine.

It is as if life itself had touched me for the first time. Like the gentle brush of a bee against a flower, a love kiss, the delicate touch of life awakening. The electric current surges through our veins, igniting our souls with a spark of divine connection. In that fleeting moment, lips meet, and the universe holds its breath, as if time itself bows to the sacredness of this intimate union. It is the whisper of eternity, the language of the heart, speaking volumes in a single embrace. A love kiss, like the touch of life, breathes vitality into our existence, reminding us that in the realm of love, we are truly alive.

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

A/N: This is the end of my first fic. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Maybe I will do more fics... let's see what happens.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Fic masterlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @mikitsuki

[starch1ldz]

I was thinking about spider!Reid, because naturally that's what I do at five pm on a Wednesday, and I was wondering if anyone would actually be interested in seeing a spider!Reid edit?? And also maybe a spider!reader fic where he helps solve a case. Mayhaps mayhaps

[spencerfuckngreid]

✨IMAGINE SPENCER❤️YOU✨

Responses to "I love you ❤️" version

"I knew it."

*laughing hysterically*

*gulp* "aha..ok....sure" *dying inside*

*yay*

*Intense gaze. You know what will come next.*

*still dying*

*🌋🔥🎇❤️‍🔥*

*The most tender and incredulous smile in the universe confirming that they feel the same way about you.*

"Were you talking to me?"

To be continue? Any request? 😁😏

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

Long Distance

Summary: You and Spencer have to do long-distance for a moment due to work, and he comes up with a solution to satisfy both your needs.

Warnings: smut, phone sex, nervous Spencer, masturbation, pet names, subtle dom reader, Spencer becomes slightly dom, minimal use of Y/N,

Word Count: Less than 1k.

-> MASTERLIST

Even if you and Spencer both worked in the B.A.U. and were by each other’s sides almost all day, there were times when you were separated. Sometimes Spencer had to go to another city or state to get more information, or you used your minimal vacation days to visit your family, and Spencer had to stay behind to help while you were gone. It was difficult, but it worked out. But this time you couldn’t bear to be without him. Not only were you yearning for one of his warm hugs once again, or a statistical ramble just so you can hear his voice again, but there was also a throbbing sensation in your stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Spencer gulps slowly into the phone before he decides to break the silence. “So, um. Where do we start?” he asks. You let out a chuckle. “This was your idea, Spencer,” you say. “You said phone sex was an effective way to keep relationships solid during long distant times.”

“You’re right,” he says as he clears his throat. “What are you wearing?” he asks in a straining-low voice, and you have to hold back your laughter.

“Did you search up ‘how to have phone sex’ online?” you ask and hear a faint mouse click on the other end, presumably closing a tab. “No.” He lies. You laugh softly. “Well, that’s not a bad start,” you say, which eases his nerves slightly. “I can tell you that I'm wearing far too much.” You hum. “Do you want me to take some off?” You ask, almost teasing.

“Yes.” He says without a second to wait or think. You chuckle as you remove your shirt, looking at yourself in the large mirror across the bedroom to admire your physique, imagining Spencer’s hands along your curves. 

“I took off my shirt.” You tell him. “Good.” He replies, almost dominant. “Now take off your bra.” He instructs, and you laugh. “Hey, watch it. I’m not taking anything else off until I know you’ve at least taken off your shirt,” you explain. “It’s only fair.” You grin. Spencer sighs, painstakingly taking off his shirt at your orders.

“Is it off?” You ask. “Yes.” He says. “Good boy.” You just know he’s blushing uncontrollably, and that the erection in his pants, which was inevitable, was soon to be rock solid.

You unclip your bra, tossing it to the side as if Spencer is watching. “Bet you miss my tits,” you say as you knead one in your palm. “Wish you were touching them, sucking them.” Spencer whimpers at your words, his hand already palming his erection.

“I don’t think I can wait so long, baby.” He huffed. “Wait for what?” You ask. He gulps again, shifting his hips as the erection becomes unbearable. “Can’t wait to touch myself. To hear you moan- and come.” He says almost pathetically.

“Touch yourself, Spence. For me.” He wastes no time taking his pants off and slowly toys and his tip. He hums at the immediate pleasure. “Mmm… wish you were here, babe…” He whispers. You remove your pants as he spoke, peeling off your soaked panties as you slowly begin circling your own throbbing clit. “I am, baby. Imagine that your hand is mine.” You tell him.

You hum into the receiver, imagining Spencer's large, slender fingers rubbing you perfectly. “Spencer…” You moan softly, and he whimpered at your voice. “You sound so pretty.” He whispers to you as his hand gets faster, working on his entire length instead of just the tip. “So, so pretty…” He hums, letting out a low moan as he thrusts into his hand.

Your hand trembles on the phone as you struggle to hold it securely, the constant stimulation and pleasure washing through you like heat waves. “Fuck…” You curse. It felt so good. He felt so good. Spencer whines your name as he squeezes his hand around his cock, almost moaning fully as the pleasure sent alerts to the millions of nerve endings in his body, each one putting him in complete bliss as he chases his high like a mad man. He moans “Y/N…” as he moves faster and faster.

“I’m gonna- Fuck. Oh my god. I’m gonna come.” He says, almost screaming it as pregnant beads of sweat trickle down his forehead. “M-me too…” You struggle to say as another moan escapes your lips. 

“Are you gonna… gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna come?” He hesitantly says like stepping into unfamiliar ground, afraid it might crumble right from his feet. You nod over and over again as your head swims in ecstasy. “Yes, yes. I’ll come. I’ll come,” you whine. You never saw this side of Spencer. You liked it.

“Good- good girl.” You moan at the name, his sultry yet shaky voice was enough to push you right over the edge and fall into the everlasting pit of pleasure and bliss. You moan painfully. Just knowing that he was furiously stroking his cock and thinking of you, moaning your name and telling you to come. As you reached your high, Spencer was not far behind, finally feeling his release as his come shoots out from his tip, covering him in his mess as his body spasms from the overwhelming pleasure. 

No words were spoken before Spencer decided to break the wordless silence of faint whines and laboured breath. “Y/N…?” He calls out. “Yes?”

He smiled as he heard your voice, identifying the smile on your lips by your tone. “Did you… did you like that?” He asked, reverting back to a more introverted version of himself, as always. 

“Baby, I loved it.”

[kisses4reid]

understand? pt. 1 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you’re a polyglot translator assigned to work for the bau in a cross-national case, and there’s a doctor who wants to impress you.

genre - fem!reader, SHE/HER r, fluff, meet cute, you know more than spencer and he’s attracted to that

warnings - you're both awkward, mentions of gross case file photos, little research about polyglots actually done so there are inaccuracies, cliffhanger for part 2.

w/c - 1.4k

a/n - thank you for the req anon!! there was multiple parts to this but i really like the first idea so that’s what this fic is about, might keep the other idea for later hehe. i did change some aspects. love you, thank you for the support <33 there will be multiple parts!!! stay tuned!!!

req - hi pia 💞💝🩷💓 how r u? i hope you’re feeling wonderful! this is my first time requesting smthg i apologize if i get something wrong! i’ve been having 2 thoughts about spencer x fem!reader, where reader is a russian translator and idk they meet cute or she has to work with the bau helping them on a case. just wanted to give these ideas to you, obviously feel free to do anything with them! i really enjoy your work and your writing is incredible! i have your notifications on so i am always reading whatever you post! have a great day pia 💝 lots n lots of kisses for u!

This was not what you expected. 

You, a woman in your late twenties that spent most of her time in a room listening to voices and decoding foreign messages, didn’t know what you expected. But this: a scary boss, an italian old man, and a skinny college kid, was not it. 

“Y/n L/n? I’m Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, and this is Agent Rossi and Doctor Agent Reid.” 

You nodded your head, thick hair covering your top eyelashes as you glanced at the men. Agent Rossi shook your hand, and Dr Reid simply stood and gawked at you. To be honest, it made you worried. You had been warned this was a close knit team, that they trusted each other more than anything and that you shouldn’t get attached to any of them as you’d only be assisting them for one case.

Maybe they just didn’t warm up to new people. 

“I’ll do your formal introduction to the rest of the team now, if you’re settled down.” He asks cooly. You like the way his voice rasps, it’s assertive yet comforting. 

“Yes, of course. I can’t wait.” You smiled reassuringly at the unit chief, not ignoring the raised eyebrow you received from the silent young man now behind you.

Aaron Hotchner, your new boss for the next week or so, lead you to a large room with a circular table sat in the middle. There were two other women, one blonde and one raven haired, and another bald man that glanced at you immediately after you entered. They smiled at you and trailed your steps to where you stood beside the unit chief in front of a large TV screen.

“Everyone, this is Agent Y/n L/n. She’ll be assisting us with the Becker case you’ve all been informed of. She’ll mainly be our translator and interpreter, but she’ll also be useful for cultural identifiers and anything that we wouldn’t notice otherwise.” 

You nodded along, never being a fan of introductions since you moved to America as a small child. 

“This is JJ, our liaison, Agent Emily Prentiss and Agent Derek Morgan.” 

The ladies smiled at you, in fact all of them did. They were surprisingly open to the fact you would be joining them, the fact made your shoulders loosen and a breath to be let out discreetly. 

Next, you were on a long plane flight to Maine with Agents you had known for little under two hours, conversing about victim profiles and motives. The table in front of the ladies and your boss was strewn with victim files and gruesome photos. And while you weren’t a stranger to the dangers and violence the job brought, you had gotten comfortable with only hearing about it and not seeing it. So you opted to hover around the table and stay silent, you weren’t a trained profiler after all, just a translator.  

There was a wave of cologne that disrupted your senses, causing you to angle your head back, only to be greeted by the tall doctor. 

You smiled softly, assuming the closeness was due to the aeroplane's arrangement. Also because you got the vibe that Spencer didn’t like you. 

“Are you okay? You seem uneasy,” he asked. It was the first time you heard his voice. And it was as adolescent as you imagined for someone so young, but it had a sophisticated edge to it, with a honey-like undertone. Finding things in voices as if they were perfumes was something you unconsciously started to do since working as a translator.

“I’m fine.” You grinned reassuringly, turning back to focus on the team’s findings. 

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly and stepped away, sitting down beside Morgan who had taken a seat at the back. Morgan squinted at his friend, noticing the rare confusion splayed on his face as he stared in your direction. 

“What’s up? Pretty girl got your tongue?” Morgan removed his headphones with a cheeky smile displayed on his handsome face.

“For someone who specialises in languages she doesn’t talk much.” 

Morgan smirked, “Maybe not to you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong though.” Spencer ripped his gaze off the back of your head.

“You’ve been staring at her since she walked through those doors. You were so distracted you didn’t even greet her this morning.” Morgan pointed out. Spencer tilted his head confused, a small blush creeping up his neck. “I watched the whole thing from the conference room, so did JJ and Emily.” 

The tall boy slumped in his chair and forced himself to look out of the plane’s window, avoiding a reply to Morgan as he knew it would only result in more teasing. You were physically attractive, everyone could see that, but the thing that caught Spencer’s attention was your intelligence. He was no stranger to being a polyglot, he learnt languages for fun, but you were simply next level. Morgan studied Spencer’s face for a second before raising his attention to your hovering state. “Agent Y/n L/n.” Morgan called, causing Spencer to widen his eyes and immediately adjust his slumped position in his plane seat. You turned your head in surprise, slightly confused why you would be needed anywhere else than the files you had been translating for the past two minutes. Your heels were silent against the carpeted floors, but Spencer could sense your presence anyways. 

“How many languages do you speak?” The stoic man asked, his eyes darting between you and the doctor below you. You were not short, your genes didn’t allow for it, but you had noticed you were only taller than JJ and Rossi in the team and it felt foreign to not tower over everyone. “Um, I speak 8 languages fluently, and 4 languages semi-fluently.” You stated, readying to turn back to assist the team before Morgan spoke up once again

“Did you know that pretty boy can speak Spanish and German?” 

Before Spencer could help himself, he corrected the man, “And Latin and Russian,” Spencer turned his head up to you, “But I can understand more.” 

You smiled, genuinely impressed and confused on how a man that young could learn that much. But to be fair, you were in the same boat. The nickname got your attention, locking it in the back of your mind to remind yourself that the people you were working with did in fact have senses of humour, and weren’t just heartless officers. There wasn’t any reason to think that though, as you had been cared for with respect and even Prentiss made a funny remark beforehand. It sort of felt like a family dinner you were intruding on. “That’s impressive, Doctor Reid.” You reply genuinely. 

“I mean it’s nothing compared to you though,” his voice was pitched slightly higher and his hands started motioning to nothing in particular, “your brain is constantly changing from high activity to low activity when you're translating from one language to another. Your language network, the lateral frontal lobe, is constantly lighting up and dimming down depending on what language you hear, ordinary people’s language networks only turn on and off.” 

Morgan smirked and glanced up at your intrigued and surprised expression. You nodded, a small blush coating the tips of your ears as you responded, “Thank you.” You didn’t really know what else to say, which is funny for someone who understands so many languages, so you simply smiled and turned back to the table. Spencer slumped again, watching you walk away and asking himself why he would inform a pretty girl about her own brain, when she most definitely already knows about it. 

“Don’t worry too much, Reid.” Morgan called, grabbing Spencer’s attention. The boy raised a brow, not understanding. “She digs it, I can tell. But she’s just like you, knows how to speak in a million ways and still doesn’t know how to small talk.” 

You landed without any more awkward interactions, and got introduced to some sheriffs in Maine, one of them giving you a tighter handshake than the rest and a stare that could only mean unpleasant things. It wasn't something sexist or creepy that lingered in his eyes, it was more like hatred. Spencer took the sheriff's attention away from you after noticing what the whole team did, and asked him to show him the records they kept at the precinct.

Emily Prentiss came up behind you and placed a hand on your upper arm, squeezing it like she understood what you had thought you'd seen. Out of everyone else in the team, she would understand the most.

taglist (open!!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld

[esote-rika]

A bookstore meet cute I wish I could experience | Spencer Reid

Category: Fluff with S4 awkward, nerdy rizz Spencer

Warnings: use of Y/N, unedited (tenses keep shifting, sorry)

A/N: this is just 1.8k words of self indulgent self insert. Like this is inspired by some unpleasant experiences I've had talking with men about books in the past lol, and reader's responses defensive responses had been me at some point. i feel like a conversation with Spencer Reid would heal me, thus this fic. Also, save me, s4e9 Spencer Reid, save me.

He seemed like a fixture to the bookstore, if fixtures moved on their own. Or if they moved up and down the aisles with elegant fingers tracing the spines of the books on display. Or if they dressed like a rumpled professor, complete with the black rimmed glasses. He just seemed like he was part of the space, and you thought that every bookstore should probably come with one - a tall, attractive nerd who drifted all over the room like some sort of phantom. Maybe that would help with the literacy problem. It certainly would bring more people in, make them more interested in reading.

You've been trying to figure him out from afar, as subtle as you can. You're not a creep, after all, but he cuts such a lonely figure that you couldn't help but wonder if he needed some company. A part of you wonders if he's noticed you as well. This store is your late afternoon treat, after all. You come here every Friday, without fail, even when you know the inventory is unreplenished, simply to bask in the presence of books.

And then he started coming in regularly, and you had another reason to come.

You never approached him. Something about simply knowing he's there, while remaining a stranger, is thrilling. You can romanticize him if he's a stranger, project all the wholesome fantasies and book boyfriends you have upon him with no sense of accountability.

It also means you avoid the disappointment if he turns out to be another condescending know it all, eager to put you and your reading habits down because oh your tastes are so girly.

No, this was better. You're a flaneur, you tell yourself, you're here to be part of the space and observe from within, even though you doubt this is what Baudelaire had in mind when he wrote that essay and defined the term.

Still.

You smile to yourself, crouching down to check the books on the lower shelf, and also to catch a glimpse of his legs. He'd been on the other side of this shelf for the past five minutes, and you've gotten a soft chuckle when you saw his mismatched socks.

However, his lean form is nowhere to be seen. He seems to have moved to another aisle. With a small frown, you move to stand up, only to feel a tug.

“Shit,” a quick glance down reveals that a familiar looking shoe has accidentally stepped on your long skirt. You hadn't realized it billowed out around you when you knelt down.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!”

You look up and realize why the shoe looks familiar. It's him. You couldn't see him in the other aisle because he'd moved to your side, so silently you hadn't even heard him.

“Sorry, oh gosh, I didn’t notice.” He steps off quickly, and you watch as his cheeks bloom bright pink. A pink that quickly travels down his neck.

You stifle a laugh at how easily he blushed. “It's fine.” Your attempt to stand is more successful without his foot pinning the fabric of your skirt to the ground.

“I've messed up your skirt though.” He says, looking at the brown smudge left behind on the skirt.

“It's no big deal, it’ll come out.” You shrug, getting a good look at him this time. He's taller than you thought, with a sharp bone structure that's softened by large, hazel eyes and pouty lips. His hair is slicked back, curling at the nape of his neck, the color a soft brown that matches his eyes. Yeah, one of him should really come in every bookstore, you think.

“O-okay, uh, if you're sure…” He says, rubbing his hands on his pants. A nervous energy emanates from him, disrupting your idea that he's calm and tranquil.

Oh well, there goes that fantasy. Still, you wonder if maybe he's nervous because of you.

“I still feel bad though,” He adds, looking around, “Uh, how about I buy you a book for the inconvenience?”

“It's hardly an inconvenience,” You laugh, “But hey, I won't say no to a free book.”

He perks up, “Great. I'm Spencer, by the way.”

“Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Spencer.”

He repeats your name, and you find yourself enjoying the shape his mouth makes as he tests it out, lips and tongue wrapping around the syllables as if he wants to commit the way it feels in his memory.

You mentally kick yourself in the ass, wondering if you've read too many romance novels.

“Likewise,” He smiles, and you have to remind yourself that it's rude to stare at the lips of someone you just met. It's not your fault he has such pretty dimples, and you had the urge to count them. He continues, “So what kind of books do you like, Y/N? Romance?”

Your eyes narrow at that. You wonder how to answer. Yes? Would he judge you if you say yes? Is he one of those guys, the ones who only read heavy, intellectual books and look down on people who read fluff? Do you want to try and impress him by saying no, by scoffing and saying something like of course not I’m looking for a copy of Swann's Way by Marcel Proust? (which is the most “impressive” book you can think of at the moment). The idea seems too gross, too I'm not like other girls, and you immediately cross it out.

“And if I do?” you ask instead, surprised by the edge to your voice.

He blinks, then shrugs, looking entirely innocent. “Then we should head to the romance shelf over there.”

Once again, you're surprised. Some part of you had been expecting a smirk, maybe a roll of his eyes, that look you get when you even dare to bring up the romance genre. But, no. He starts walking to a different part of the store and you're forced to follow.

“Why did you think I read romance?” the words escape your lips before you can stop them.

He ducks behind a shelf, his hair falling down and hiding his face but you get a glimpse of the bright red skin of his neck. He's blushing again.

“Well, it's - ah - that is, I've noticed you here before, and you always seemed to hang out here in the romance section.” He says in a rush, his head still angled away from you.

You feel simultaneously called out, and a little giddy. So he's noticed you, just as much as you'd noticed him.

“So you're a stalker.” You can't help but tease.

He lets out a sound, somewhere between an indignant sputter and a scoff. “What? No! I just happen to be very observant, it's a skill I've learned to hone for my job, and you're not very hard to remember-” He cuts himself off, peeking at you with a horrified look on his face.

Laughter tumbles from your lips, and you clamp your teeth down your bottom lip to stop.

“I was teasing you.” You say, trying to fight the giggles.

He seems relieved, but the crease on his brow remains, a sign of his previous embarrassment.

“And you're right. The romance section has the biggest amount of secondhand books that I can read while I'm here.” You explain. This aisle also gives you the best view of the nonfiction section, which he frequents, therefore giving you the perfect spot to observe him over the past few weeks. Though you leave out that part.

“Ah,” He nods, looking around, “See anything you like?”

“No, I'm actually looking for a copy of The Hobbit right now.”

He lights up, “Oh, you're a fan of Tolkien too? I love him, he's such a genius and completely innovated the fantasy genre! So much so that he - wait, if you're looking for The Hobbit, why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“You just started walking.” You reply, smiling at him. He's adorable when he becomes so animated, hands waving around like his body can't contain his excitement and has to find ways to express them physically. “Had to follow you. But anyway, I'm assuming you've read The Hobbit?”

He accepts your explanation easily, then nods his head. You can't help but compare him to a puppy, so eager and nearly frantic in his excitement.

“I've read every Tolkien book.” He says, and you're surprised to find his voice contains no hint of superiority, or cockiness. Just genuine joy. It's refreshing, “Including The Silmarillion."

“Oh wow,” You laugh, aware of the reputation that tome carries, “I've only seen the Lord of The Rings movies.”

“Well that's not sufficient at all! You're missing out on so much history,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mhm, well help me find The Hobbit first, before I move on to the trilogy.” You reply, already walking over to where you know the fantasy books are.

He follows you, smiling bashfully, “You know, I have copies of all the books… I can just lend them to you, if you want.”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder in surprise. “You'd let a stranger borrow your books?”

“Only if you promise to take care of them.” He says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I swear on my life, I will not tarry your precious copies of Tolkien's masterpiece.” You make a cross over your heart for emphasis, which makes him laugh. This time, you stare at his lips shamelessly, enjoying the dimples that appeared from the action.

“Okay, maybe we meet up over coffee sometime?” he asks, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I'll bring the books.”

You fight the urge to squeal. Your body refuses to contain the giddiness, and the sound compromises by coming out as a giggle.

“Yeah, sure.” you watch as he digs into his pocket, handing over a card. “Oh, how very professional.” You say playfully, accepting the slip of paper.

He ducks his head, and you see the beginnings of the blush creeping down his neck. It feels exhilarating, being able to make him blush like this.

“It's just more practical.” He mumbles.

You grab your phone quickly, typing in his number and giving it a call, so that your number goes through his as well. “I'll give you a call. But, you still owe me a book for this.” You motion at your skirt, at the stain of his footprint on the fabric.

He chuckles, “Of course. Can't go back on my promise.” he looks around the store and you're taken by the sight of him, looking like he's part of the space, like he simply belongs here. And this time, with you standing next to him, with him. “Take your pick.”

“I'm pretty indecisive.” You say playfully.

“I have time.” He smiles, and you find he has two dimples on one side of his face, and only one on the other. Your chest feels heavy with something that you can't quite put a name to yet, but you're eager for more of it.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

MADE HIS MARK

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Synopsis: a shivery trip to a liquor cellar turned into a steamy secret between friends and a not-so-subtle reveal between a small herd of colleagues. Word Count: 5k+ WARNING: SMUT. please, please, MDNI !!! penetration (piv). unprotected sex (but fr wrap it up!!!). fingering (a lil bit). obsessed!spencer (bc why not?). ex friends with benefits to lovers. a pinch of angst if you squint. cursing. troublemaker spencer reid and reader. not proofread!! A/N: heavily influenced by the song Dress by Taylor Swift. I love me a TS song. I'm obsessed, and I saw the opportunity. Also, this is my first Spencer Reid smut fic. Be nice, and tell me what you think!

  The sharp brush of spring and little kisses from the evening air prompt you to savor the shivery feeling on your skin.

  You take a deep breath before sliding your heels off, dangling them in your hand as you trail down the maze of a hallway in Rossi’s lavish home. Your dress is now a product of a shoddy decision. 

  All you knew was how presentable and wedding-appropriate it was, but you never realized why you would wear such a dress barely sewn for the crisp evening weather in May.

  “Hiding from everyone?”

  A smile instantly layers over your painted lips before you can even raise your gaze ahead. There’s this tickle of warmth that sparks inside of you the moment you hear his voice. Hands shaking in an intense subconscious buzz of excitement. Thrilling.

  No other than Dr. Spencer Reid is ten feet away from you, standing lazily against the wall. His hair is messy from all the magic tricks he tore out to Jack and Henry and, funnily enough, Penelope, too.

  Bright gleam shines on your face, flashing a saccharine smile you can only muster when the receiver is him. You shake your head.

  "Are you?"

  One hand in his pocket. Spencer shyly nods, “I ran out of magic tricks, and Jack figured out one of my tricks halfway through my little show.” He explains without persuasion, staring into space with playful horrid written all over his face.

  You steal the half-full glass from his other hand, cringing at the taste of sparkling cider. “One sip won’t kill you, you know…” You say, shoving the glass back into his hand.

  Spencer laughs, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” He quips, a sheepish smile growing with each syllable.

  “Very much so,” You nod, making a beeline to the kitchen to find some kind of beverage that’ll knock you out ‘til the next day.

  He follows you like a tail. Your senses feel his warmth, his breath fanning against your exposed back. The feeling of his tall presence behind leaves your breath hitching between inhales and exhales, and you’d love more than his figure on your trail. You ache for something more than the image of him in your wake. You need him merged with your soul, his body tightly pressed against yours. You crave something harsh.

  It’s wishful thinking.

  “What took you so long? Did you not notice I was gone?” He wonders.

  Or is it?

  “It’s cold out here, you know,” Spencer pouts in your peripheral. 

  You want your lips to wipe them off, then turn them into an O.

  “Aww, does pretty boy genius feel lonely?” You tease over your shoulder, tapping his chest with the back of your hand. Your brows jump, twisting on your heels to face him. “I’ll be damned,” You exclaim, pushing your palm against his pec with more pressure.

  It's been so long since you touched him with more than an accidental brush of your fingertips. His body stiffens under your light squeeze. And the thirst for more slowly dries the circumference of his throat.

  “Reid, when’d you get this fit? No wonder women are all over you.” Genuine curiosity takes over, looking up at him with fluttering lashes.

  Spencer scoffs, leaning down eye to eye with you, “I’ve always been hot.” He retorts with a straight face. The confidence radiates, and it does something in the pit of your stomach.

  A brief silence whooshes between your bodies, and the next thing you know, both of you are laughing ‘til your cores cramp.

  You gasp for air, head against his sternum, hand still placed over his pec. “Don’t ever say that in front of Morgan. He might get a stroke.” You begin walking once more, turning your back to him. 

  “I am! Don’t you agree?” You do. He banters a few feet away, keeping a safe distance—or so help the impulsive thoughts that are whirling around his mind. A playful grin works his facial muscles out, only hoping that you didn’t notice the way he takes in your scent like a bait set out for him.

  Spencer didn’t even need to run to catch up with you. His strides are five times longer than yours.

  You feel a soft fabric cover your shoulders, accompanied by a heavy arm that burns your skin in pure reflexive need. “I thought you were cold?” You ask, glancing to your left, where Spencer walks beside you.

  Spencer shrugs, “Rather feeling cold than you getting a cold tomorrow morning. The chances of me getting sick from being cold tonight versus you sneezing on me like a troll is 15 to 85 percent.” He replies calmly, earning a light smack from your hand.

  You roll your eyes, but your smile never travels far. It only happened once. And you both swore once was enough.

  The two of you became friends during your time in the Academy. You’ll never forget the first time you met him. The urge to shove a sock inside his yapping mouth over the repercussions of shaking someone’s hand. Most people say the two of you are best friends. Somehow, his intelligence didn’t set you apart. You tolerated his constant rambles, and he tolerated your random bursts of sass. 

  It's more than that though. The entanglement was more than two friends. More than innocent study sessions. More than a trip to the nearest shooting range.

  As two twenty-one-year-olds who's never felt the most sensual touch before, one minute of forced proximity and all hell broke loose. What seemed so platonic was sexually intimate behind closed doors.

  However, in lieu of staying attached to the hip, the two of you went your separate ways after graduation. You went to pursue each respective interest. You both said no hard feelings. And both believed things would never work anyway, because no one was willing to put in the work.

  The two of you reconnected when you joined the BAU team almost a year ago. Meeting him once again was nerve-wracking. With unresolved fallout and nonexistent communication, it scared you a bit. But you should’ve known Spencer Reid has always been different—good, different. The bond you had didn’t seem too damaged. If anything, it was merely locked in a vault and became stronger than ever before. You managed to be civil—become friends.

  And since then, you never ran out of ways to be in each other’s vicinity. Or he just always succeeded in keeping you interested in his antics. Or you’re just addicted to him more than you’d like to admit.

  But friends don't shake from mere self-control. Friends don't choke on breaths when the other touches them. Friends don't—

  “What percentage of alcohol will you get from Rossi’s cellar?” He curiously asks, his warmth keeping you from shivering.

  The damned dress.

  And his damned loose tie.

  You chuckle shakily, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” You mimic, throwing back the same antic he used not a few minutes ago. He rolls his eyes, and you open the door to the cellar. “I was tasked to choose the best whiskey ever made.” You announce, sinking deeper into confinement.

  “So you lost a bet.” Spencer laughs, following behind. He shakes his head when you nod yours. “You don’t even drink whiskey.” He smirks.

  “Go back out there, then,” You shoo him away, waving your hands. “I didn’t ask you to join me on my quest.” You add in a giggle, tying your hair up in a messy ponytail after setting your shoes on the table in the middle of the room.

  You don’t see the way he swallows at the sight of your nape. The same way you hadn't notice his self-restraint for the past year, for the entire evening, dipping his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists. Because if he doesn't, they just might crave the feeling of your skin against the texture of his palm.

  “And what if you can’t reach the best whiskey?”

  “I’m a federal agent, too, Reid. I’m smart enough to figure that out.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re similar to a hobbit.”

  The brows on your face lift over your forehead. "Excuse me?" Your mouth fall agape in disbelief, scoffing.

  Spencer shrugs, "You're excused."

  Amusement twitch the ends of your lips. "You sure you're not drunk?" Your eyes narrow, scanning him from head to toe.

  "I'm not." He defends. Scarlet skin glows underneath the soft light. Spencer averts his eyes, stealing a mouthful of a sigh from the chilly air. Okay, maybe he stole one glass of scotch from the unit chief, took a sip, and felt his body on fire, so now he's settled down for ciders the entire evening.

  You smirk, "Then, why are you being so clingy?" Arms cross over your chest. You raise a brow in question.

  Spencer rolls his eyes, silently clearing his throat. "Why not? There's no harm in hanging out with you." His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek.

  "There is when said friend is acting like a clingy boyfriend." You say, skimming through the shelves of liquor adorning the walls from ceiling to floor.

  “Right,” Spencer states blandly, finding himself a seat. “I’m just a friend. I can’t act any other way. I can’t even give you any affection, huh?” He deadpans, tracing the wood patterns on the table.

  Your eyebrows crease in the middle of reaching for a bottle. You slowly go up behind him and smack the back of his head without warning.

  “Ow!” He hisses. “What was that for?” Spencer complains, face scrunching in temporary pain.

  “For being weirder than usual.” You say, hitting his shoulder. “Stop it.” You scold, finger-pointing over his chest.

  Spencer is not one to be petty. Never petty over the boys you mingle with for a short period. Never be petty over your tendencies to somehow land on the worst species of men. Since the two of you reconnected as colleagues, he's minded his business. Why now? And why the hell is your heart pounding obnoxiously?

  He theatrically rolls his eyes, “Am I wrong? Aren’t I just your friend?” There is something in his tone that you can't distinguish. His face is awkward and reserved, as always, but something is different.

  You know. You just love lying to yourself.

  “What else are you going to be?!” Even you are surprised at the volume of your voice.

  The creak of the small open window fills the room. None of you dares to say a word. No one dares to breathe within each other's personal bubble.

  You break eye contact first, stepping away, but Spencer has other plans. His hands land on your waist, gripping the flesh to keep you between his legs.

  “That’s a question I’ve been asking myself,” The luminescence of his eyes turns a shade darker. Chocolate hazel eyes gradients to deep earthy irises. Or it may have been the dim lighting in the room and the glass of wine in your system.

  You swallow—roughly like a ball of sandpaper rows down your throat. Fingers lace above his textured ones, wrapping over the long digits to get their bruises off your skin.

  “It’s a simple question. There’s no reason to dread it.” You almost stumble on your words, taking well-needed pauses to huff a small breath. You try to break his grip on you, but they don’t budge one bit. 

  The more you attempt to remove his hold, the more they tighten against the little fabric over your skin.

  Your brows knit. A sigh of defeat escapes your lips as your gaze travels back to him. “Spencer, stop—” Your spine shivers when he starts to lazily move his thumbs in slow, firm strokes.

  Spencer stands in silence, staring at you like you are a doe he preyed on. His eyes start to make your legs melt, and your heart races wildly.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  His gaze flickers over your lips, “Why don’t you answer the question for me? Since you’re so smart, it seems.” A tone of clear mockery spills from his lips. Spencer smirks under his signature smile—smug and utterly amused by the sound of your small, hitched breaths.

  “Can you stop kidding around?” You prattle. A peel of awkward laughter shoots straight down your bones. It was all you could do to relieve the growing tension between your thighs. Or else you’d jump on him like a desperate psychopath.

  "Who says I'm kidding around?" Spencer narrows his eyes. "I never kid around." He squeezes your sides once more and grins when a soft gasp rattles out of you. He hasn't done that in so long, and the nostalgia and buzz spark something in his chest.

  Thick, airy gulp forces itself down your throat. You know why he does it. The same pattern of movements you knew so well in your younger days. The days you spent with him.

  "We can't." It is almost inaudible, but he catches it. You lightly shake your head, backing away, "I-it's not— We can't."

  Spencer raises his brows. "What are you so afraid of?" He reads your features for a moment. The gentle touch of his gaze along your searing skin is electrifying.

  You nibble at the corner of your lip, "Let go of me, Reid." And it seems you love lying to him, too. Because you don't want him to let go. Desperate for his touch. The soft trail of his thumb. The primal clutch of his fingers, like they were claws. It was all too intoxicating to ever want him to let go.

  “Answer the question first.” He flashes the smirk he’s been trying to hide like a villain, exposing his true colors. “I dare you.” Spencer challenges.

  “You know the answer.” Your chest feels like exploding.

  “Say it out loud, then.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because we’re not leaving this position until you do.” His voice sparks fire in your core. Spencer doesn’t let his eyes stray from your moving lips. If anything, he makes a point that he is, in fact, staring at them like a starving lion, ready to pounce at any given moment.

  Oh.

  Well, isn't he such a sweetheart to feed you just what you crave? You don't know where it comes from, nor do you care, but there's at least four liquid cubic centimeters of boldness that flows through your veins.

  Your laughter echoes in the cellar. “Please, or what?” You relax in his hold, convinced that he's just the same lanky guy you've always known. “You going to fuck me like a slut? Not exactly your M.O., pretty boy.” You tease, playfully tapping on his shoulders.

  A low, hoarse chuckle vibrates across his chest. With lust-filled gaze and a thin, mischievous smile, Spencer shifts his eyes to look straight into yours. 

  “Exactly.”

  Your eyes grow the widest they have ever been your entire life. “What—” Before you can stop him, his lips are already clashing against yours.

  Spencer holds onto you as if he is falling off a cliff, and you are a branch about to snap any second. He kisses you aggressively, pulling you so tight, like he needs you glued to him.

  You try to push him, but it doesn't take long until you give in. Until you kissed back.

  You kissed him back.

  You fucking kissed Spencer back.

  The hands that recently danced on his shoulders begin to tug on the soft curls over his nape. The weight of his lips is starting to make your legs wobble.

  Every scrape of his teeth against your stinging lips feels new. It isn't what you're familiar with. Your mind recalls his gentle touches and gentle words as if you'd break if he held you too tight. But the one kissing you isn't. The slice of his tongue over your lips is primal. He's not the Spencer you once knew. He's the Spencer you've been craving, so much so that the mere thought of bruises caused by his grip has been contaminating your mind since you started in the BAU.

  His kisses deepened, warmth enveloping the two of you despite the chilly breeze inside the cellar. With breathless and plump lips, a new strike of desire courses throughout your body the longer you kiss.

  Spencer breathes you in like oxygen, starving for more, never satisfied with just one gentle breath. It's new. And you love it.

  Heaving, you and Spencer pull away, lips detaching and reattaching like magnets ’til distance is too far to push back. His lips are a darker shade of pink, swollen, and adorned with smeared lipstick. You don’t doubt the effect of making out with him gives you any more leverage, imagining your lipstick thickly outlines all over the rims of your mouth.

  Judging by how Spencer stares at you like a satisfied drunken man, you presume he's loving every second more than he's prepared to admit. Most will wonder if his eagerness is merely a product of lost inhibitions. But a simple educated guess tells you that none of his actions are driven by alcohol. He's as sober as an ice cold water splashed over one's face.

  Spencer lifts you on the table, standing between your thighs. The fabric of his pants scrapes against your skin, and your aching cunt throbs at the feeling. He cups your face into his large hands, reattaching your lips once more like it’s an unforgivable sin to keep them apart.

  He pulls away after air fails him, resting his forehead over yours. “I want to be the only one who gets to fuck you like a slut, or so God help me—” Spencer closes his eyes agonizingly slow, “—No man near you will ever see daylight again.”

  Your heart pounds against your chest, and you mentally beg Spencer to do so too—pound against your hips like you’re banned from ever walking again. The pressure of his voice and hot breath fanning against the land of your skin is ecstatically satisfying. 

  Spencer's hand drives up the slit of your dress, and at that moment, you know exactly why you chose to wear such an article of unfriendly clothing amidst your intolerance to the cold wind.

  You wanted him to take it off of you.

  You needed Spencer to take the dress off of you and fuck you hard.

  The tickle of his lips trailing from your jaw to the spot underneath your earlobe has your back arching almost a hundred and eighty degrees. Ever the opportunist, Spencer takes it as his chance to pull you closer, squeezing your thigh with his palm.

  You throw your head back, giving him access to more eager-to-be-touched skin. Legs wrap around his middle in utter pleasure, “Spencer…” You whine breathily, eyes fluttering close at the way he holds your flesh with both hunger and caress.

  His mouth falls agape. Your voice. His name. It’s addicting. His world stops in a millisecond, reveling in the joy of your mouth, uttering his name with the intense pleasure he provides.

  “We’re barely starting,” Spencer whispers against your clavicle, snaking his hand under your dress to the lining of your underwear. He swipes over your clothed clit.

  You twitch under his touch. A total puppet wrapped around his finger while his literal thumb begins to toy with your clit. The pace makes you painfully and deliciously squirm.

  Spencer loves the image before him, especially the rise of your chest as he plunges a finger, then two, inside your needy cunt. It’s the first time he’s ever heard your moans so... needy and begging and desperate and sweet and hot and something he knows you’ve never reached the volume before with other men, and he’s hooked—addicted.

  “You have no idea what your dress did to me the whole night.” He muffles on your neck. Wet kisses echo at the touch of his lips. Spencer buries himself in your scent, one hand unzipping your dress. “No idea how much I wanted to take it off of you.” He whispers next to your ear.

  A hum spills at the ring of his words. His kisses start to sting, and burning hues form on your skin. Spencer marks you with his tongue and teeth.

  It's euphoric. His hunger. His need. And you want nothing else but to give him whatever he wants, the same way he gives you everything you need.

  The sound of his fly distorting in the air makes your skin tingle, nipples perk, and cunt quiver. You whine when he pulls away, already missing his heat. 

  Spencer’s eyes soften, “Are you sure you want this to continue? When we were friends with benefits things didn't work—”

  “Shut up, take my dress off, and fuck me, Spencer.” You heave, or beg, or whichever fits the way you eagerly undo his tie and unbutton his shirt while kissing the soft spot on his neck, marking him yours.

  The vibration of his chuckles sent delicious throbs down to your cunt, drooling to be filled by him.

  “Aren't you needy—” Spencer lifts his arms in defense, “—alright, shutting up now.”

  The cold is nowhere else but the back of your mind. You feel wetness on the peak of his boxers. Spencer's hard erection suffocates him, and you're eager to relieve him in every possible way.

  He immediately sighs when your dress droops down your waist. Spencer takes you in as if you're the most prized art in a museum. He takes every line, scars, birthmarks, or as simple as the crease of your breast into memory. 

  “So, so beautiful…” Spencer murmurs in sheer adoration and awe. He looks up as if God has listened to his prayers as if he’s a passionate believer. Thankful to have you within his reach.

  Warmth coats you with every sweep of his hand on every curve and slope of your body. He’s memorizing each soft plush and perfect flaw. The sentiment alone heightens your arousal like you’ve been touch-starved for years.

  A yelp comes out of you when he unexpectedly spreads the wetness on your folds, touching where you need him most. “Spencer, please…” It’s a plea. A begging need.

  He circles on your clit with more pressure than the first. “You ready for me?” A vigorous nod responds to him while you bite your moans to keep them at bay.

  Spencer pulls you closer by the small of your back. Your ass is almost falling off the edge of the table. The lacey cloth stretched on the side of your entrance. He aligns his slobbering tip with your equally desperate cunt.

  Unsatisfied by your response, Spencer grabs your chin with so much force your bitten lips set free. “I need a verbal answer, sweetheart. I need to hear your voice say the words.” He’s begging, too, aching to slam just about all of him in one push.

  The anticipation is frustrating. "I wa—" With a mere echo jumping out of your throat, Spencer takes it enough confirmation and thrusts his hips to meet yours.

  Temporary pain and electrifying pleasure cause your body to shake, followed by a pornographic moan that Spencer muffles with his hand over half of your face.

  Your mind spins around in endless bliss as his cock throbs at the pressure of your hold. Spencer doesn't move an inch, waiting for your signal.

  “Please… move. Now.” Your voice is caught in the middle of your throat, dragging into a lovely gasp when he pulls back slowly.

  With the tip of his cock the sole filler inside your cunt, Spencer thrusts back so fast, so good. He keeps a steady pace that leaves both of you a moaning mess. 

�� Spencer pins your hips on the table, making sure he satisfies you with every force. He sucks a breath in, dizzy at the sight of your breast bouncing on his beat.

  Can he surpass the knowledge that other guys have seen you undone like this? Never. Will he clash heaven and hell for the sake of pleasing you? The almighty and the merciless needn’t make yet another bet because they know Spencer will drag anything, anyone, to kneel before you.

  Because Spencer needs you undone like you have never been before. He craves to be the first to fuck you like it's the last thing you’ll ever do.

  You're addicting. An influence he freely lets himself get sucked in. Spencer wishes he could brand himself with your name, eager to be yours. He's desperate to be called yours.

  Spencer adorns your skin with red and purple hues, beaming at the sight of his marks with every echo of his lips popping yet another possessive tattoo.

  The pleasure he gives sends you beyond time and space. Euphoric daze fogs up your brain. Vision locked inside your skull, eyes permanently rolled into sensual darkness.

  “Spence…”

  Fuck. The nickname drips perfectly off your lips. You and only you can make his cock even harder just by saying his name. He doesn’t try to keep his head from spiraling into desires, desperately imagining all the ways he can own you.

  You gasp shakily, feeling the knot in your abdomen begin to tighten. One, two—five more strokes and you enter a void filled with sparkling stars and mind-numbing pleasure.

  Spencer doesn't stop, just as you wish, through broken moans and nails digging into the thin layer of his skin. Not a single pace slower or faster. And it is fucking blissful.

  Your moans drool off your lips, clenching around his cock. He rides your high like a limited experience that he will never get to try again. Though, you're sure there’ll be more clandestine rendezvous than you both are willing to admit. You both know this isn't the last you’ll ever get a taste of him. And it is not the last time he’ll crave you like oxygen.

  A hand reaches out for his nape, carding your nails at the tangles of his hair. You begin to comb between his curly strands, massaging the scalp beneath. Spencer spits out a tasteful curse dedicated to the pleasure the sensation of your touch has given him.

  “I keep up with my pill. I’m on a good window.” You assure him, breath hitching. “Fill me up, Spence.” You implore greedily, wanting nothing but all traces of him engraved inside and outside of you.

  His mouth slacks open, burying his cock in the deepest part of you. “Fuck, you’re too good to me,” He hisses in utter bliss. Spencer jolts at the ecstasy that vibrates out of him, emptying himself through the depths of your walls.

  Spencer rests his forehead against yours, whispering praises like you suddenly became his goddess. His senses tingle. And he doesn’t want time to continue.

  Your ragged breaths sync with his and soon turn even. Years of yearning are fulfilled in one evening. The prick of his bites floods your senses. 

  “What was the question again?” You giggle out, still, a bit out of breath, breaking the silence.

  Spencer playfully rolls his eyes, zipping up the back of your dress with a kiss on your shoulder. “I basically asked, ‘What are we’ like a typical chick in a movie.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.” Your sweet laughter follows while Spencer covers you once more with his jacket despite the clear indication of sweat glistening over your forehead that you’re not nearly as cold anymore. "That many?"

  Pride surges across his chest, beaming. "Like a canvas drenched with paint." He softly bites his lower lip, satisfied by the work he has done.

  You glance down, gasping at the sheath of love bites. "More like a slab of beaten up flesh." Your head lifts up to look at him in disbelief. Spencer painted every inch of your skin, no space left untouched. You don't even recognize your skin anymore.

  "Maybe this will help," He reaches on the back of your head, tugging on the band. Your hair drapes over your neck.

  "No, Reid. It does not help at all." Blinking, you slap his arm lightly, earning a shrug and a peck on your lips. He simply fastens the buttons of his jacket on you, covering everything the fabric can.

  He hunches down to pick up the tie you discarded on the floor. When he stands back up, he says, “We can keep this between us for now while we figure things out if you’d like. But we have to agree on one thing.” He tucks in a wild strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m yours, and you don’t have a choice. Sounds good?”

  You giddily smile, nodding as you dangle your weak legs over the table. “What about me? Can’t I be yours?” You coax, fixing his tie.

  "Do you want to be? Because I'm content with just pleasing you every chance I get. I'm not in a rush."

  "Spencer," You take his face in your hands. "Do you really want to just be friends with benefits?"

  He swipes his tongue over his lower lip. "No..." Spencer squeaks under his breath.

  You nod, humming. "Good, because I don't want you like a best friend either." You flatten the crease on his shoulders.

  "So?" Spencer chases your eyes, hoping he can read your mind.

  "So, you're mine, and I'm yours. Sounds better, don't you think?"

  "Sounds great." He simpers, helping you get back on your feet.

  The two of you come back to the others with the worst whiskey in the cellar. Your hair is neat, and your lipstick is replenished. His tie sits presentably on his chest and hides the smallest purple mark on the base of his neck. Intricate measures for intricate people.

  Derek complains. Penelope agrees. Rossi objects. Hotch sips his drink with no care. Emily laughs hysterically. JJ shrugs. 

  No one knows. Or no one cares. But the secret remain as is.

  Perks of being seen as the most platonic friends. More so than the great Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia. What they know nothing about won’t hurt them, right? And it’s not like it’ll be any worse if they did.

 Yet the absence of suspicion brews boredom and discontent. How come the others are suspicious enough, but not you and him? What's so dull in the air between you and Spencer that no one dares to wonder if romance ever crossed your minds?

  Spencer drags his fingers on your thigh under the table. And no one suspects why you never take off his jacket despite dancing the night away. 

  And as the night deepens, like any other gathering, the group disperses into different areas and smaller groups.

  “So?” JJ starts, wiggling her eyebrows. 

  “What?” You chuckle into the wine in your glass.

  JJ rolls her eyes, “Did you give the photographer your number?”

  Oh, yeah. You’d forgotten about the entire thing, glancing at the photographer who happens to have his lens on you. He smiles shyly, but you swear in your life that your shy boy is a lot more charming.

  “Because if not, I think Will’s cousin has his eye on you, too,” JJ adds with a mischievous smile. The most supportive friend you’ll have. How will she react when she finds out?

  You smile, looking far ahead at the pair of brown eyes.

  Spencer returns the smile, Hotch’s voice muffling in the background.

  “Like I said, it’s quite a little paperwork, but if you want to try things out and date, I have no problem with helping you out,” Hotch advises between sips of warm whiskey, talking about that one agent who approached Spencer at the bullpen thrice. What will he think when he finds out two of his agents are participating in fraternization?

  They have no idea. Not an inkling of doubt whatsoever.

  The naivete. It bores you and Spencer. It’s prosaic. It’s unglamorous.

  From one end to another, the same words echo.

  “I’ll have another drink.”

  The two of you stand from each end, meeting over the table with vast choices of alcohol. You pick up a glass as Spencer stands next to you.

  “Take it off?”

  “Take it off.”

  And you went separate ways.

  JJ’s eyes widen at the small hint of marks on your chest, jacket slightly drooping over your shoulder.

  Hotch doesn’t say a word when he notices the hickey on Spencer’s neck when the younger agent loosens his tie and undoes one button—and Hotch quotes—because of the heat. His peripheral catches JJ, Emily, and Penelope hovering around you like a group of crows scavenging for some sort of fleshy information he thinks he knows what’s about.

  “A simple no would’ve suffice,” Hotch says evenly. “But you’re still filling out paperwork. Am I clear?”

  Spencer stifles a smug smirk, looking down on his drink. “Clear.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

[bklynsboys]

The Theory on Other Halves

pairing: spencer reid x reader summary: "there's an old buddhist saying, i once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making." genre: fluff word count: 1k author's notes: i wrote this because this particular line of spencer's is one of my absolute favorites! i think it's really beautiful how all of the people we love were meant to be in our lives since 500 years ago. and of course, as a fan of space & constellations, i had to insert it into this fic. enjoy <3

THE AIR HUNG HEAVY WITH THE AFTERMATH OF A PARTICULARLY BRUTAL CASE—TYPICAL FOR A DAY IN THE BAU. Dust specks danced in the pale slivers of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Hotch decided it'd be best to give the team a few hours to rest in the motel before heading back home. If it were up to you, you'd be back in your bed as soon as humanly possible, but rooming with the resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid—the object of your unspoken affections—is an opportunity you wouldn't miss.

For months, the two of you have shared a silent dance of exchanged glances and shared interests. Your colleagues, particularly the girls whom you confided in, seemed to think it was mutual. Now, you sat across from each other on motel beds, a comfortable silence blanketing the room. You traced a thoughtful finger along the rim of your empty coffee cup.

"You have a constellation," he said softly, breaking the stillness.

Your gaze flicked to Spencer, then down to your arm where his hand had landed. A faint scattering of moles dotted the inside of your forearm, resembling a modicum of stars. A small smile tugged at your lips.

"Looks like Ursa Major," he mused, tracing the pattern with his finger. "Though perhaps a little worse for wear, and without the usual bright light, of course."

You chuckled, mirroring his action on your arm. There, nestled just below your elbow, was a crescent moon birthmark, a surprise you always enjoyed revealing.

"Here's another one," you offered.

He turned his hand, examining the crescent with a childlike curiosity. " It's beautiful," he said simply.

"Did you know," Spencer added softly, his voice barely a murmur, "that the ancient Greek saw Ursa Major as a bear?"

You tilted your head, surprised by the random fact. " A bear?"

A smile played on his lip. " Apparently, the constellation's asterism resembled the animal to them. Makes you wonder what they saw in the night sky that we don't."

"Well, my mom had a different take on that," you began, a fond memory surfacing. " She used to say my moon and stars meant I'd meet a space nerd someday who'd love these marks, and we'd be orbiting each other, kind of like the Earth and the sun. She was into soulmates, you see, and space."

The conversation flowed easily, a map of your bodies sketched through shared stories. You pointed to a jagged scar on your knee, the fading memory of you running around and ending up with a scrape on your knee. He, in turn, showed you the faint line on his palm, a souvenir from a particularly enthusiastic attempt at a science experiment as a child.

Your fingers trailed down the faint scar near his hairline, so faint one wouldn't notice it if they weren't looking at Spencer's face intently. "What's this from?" you asked gently.

Spencer chuckled. " You know, how I have really bad coordination?" He sighed. " I was lost in a book, I ran straight into a doorpost. My mom called me 'Crash' after that."

You squeezed his hand gently, a silent understanding passing between you. You knew how much Spencer cherished his mom, especially with her health declining. Sharing stories about her felt like a tender offering of his vulnerability.

He returned the gesture, his thumb tracing the faint outline of a mango-shaped birthmark on your back. " My mom swears it's from all the mangoes she craved while pregnant," you said with a laugh, remembering your childhood debates about the science behind birthmarks.

As the night wore on, your exploration became a conversation without words. You ended up curled up on one bed. You ran your fingers over the slight dip in his lower back, a lingering ache from a wrestling match between an unsub gone wrong. He skimmed his thumb across the freckle dusting your shoulder, a map of sun-drenched summer days.

There was no urgency, no pressure. Just a quiet appreciation for the way your bodies, like your minds, fit together, like puzzle pieces worn from being fitted together—entangled from experiences, both big and small. In the faint intimacy, you found a deeper connection, a comfort that transcended beyond just physical.

Suddenly, Spencer spoke, his voice soft. " Maybe your mom was right, you know."

"Right about what?" You murmured, head tilting at the man's question.

His gaze met yours, a thoughtful crease furrowing his brow. " About finding your soulmate," he said hesitantly. " There's an old Buddhist saying, I once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making."

A thoughtful hum escaped your lips. " That's beautiful, Spencer," you whispered.

He continued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "Plato once wrote humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces, but Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride, and we were destined to walk the Earth searching for our other half."

A soft blush crept up your neck. You hadn't expected such a personal turn in the conversation.

"Plato," you murmured, surprised." The one who wasn't a big fan of the soulmate idea, right?"

Spencer's lips curved into a small smile.

"True," he admitted. "But even a brilliant mind like his couldn't deny the undeniable pull we sometimes feel towards certain people. Maybe the Greeks weren't so far off . Maybe the stars, the constellations, these little imperfections on our skin... Maybe they all tell us a story of where we belong."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You found yourself captivated by the way the moonlight glinted in his eyes.

"So," you finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper, "are you saying we're destined to be wandering halves searching for the other?"

Spencer shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "No," he said, his voice a smooth cadence. " Maybe... Maybe we already found each other."

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken sentiments. The air crackled with a tension that both terrified and exhilarated you. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat to the quiet reverberation of the night. Curled beside him, Spencer's arm draped casually across you, its weight a comforting presence, you drifted off to sleep.

A faint smile touched Spencer's lips as he listened to your soft snores. "Good night," he whispered into the darkness.

[cumulo-stratus]

Hi!! Could you do a Spencer Reid x male reader where reader comes home upset about Strauss (or someone else at work) yelling at them about something so Spencer comforts reader as he breaks down? PLEASEEEEE

Home is with him[s.r]

Spencer comes home to find you struggling, and does his best to help

WARNINGS- angst, villainizes strauss, talks about being yelled at, crying

Spencer Reid x male!reader ][ hurt/comfort ][ masterlist!!

a/n- this was such a cute request!!! sry it took so long

1.65k

Your feet felt like lead blocks as you trudged up the too many stairs to Spencer's apartment.

The bag on your shoulder felt just as heavy as it weighed your shoulder down even more than your posture had already sagged. 

You felt like you didn't even have the mental energy to be annoyed when you couldn't get the key into the old jinky lock that was always hard to open.

But it felt particularly annoying today as you grimaced to yourself and flared your nostrils slightly while jimmying with the key

When the door finally jimmied itself open, it creaked with the age of the building through the empty corridor.

You were met with an equally empty apartment in front of you. 

Even though you knew he wasn’t there, there was some part of you deep down that still hoped to call out his name and hear a response from somewhere deeper in the apartment.

”spencerrr! i'm home! Are you in the bedroom?” you called out hopefully. The phrase was followed by a pang of disappointment when there was no response, just the quiet creaking of the old building settling. 

you had known that your boyfriend was on a case, and you knew that he rarely came home before 10 pm on cases. 

but a small part of you still hoped, maybe being the amazing genius of a boyfriend he is, he'd solved it in hours and flown back to take you right into his arms. 

you imagined Spencer encasing you in his embrace, the way he always does, and used it to give yourself the strength to put your things away. 

By the time your work bag and shoes had been left by the door along with your keys and your grimey work clothes had been shed there was a lump in your throat that you couldn't swallow down. 

You shoved the aforementioned work clothes at the bottom of your hamper, trying to push away the bad joojoo lingering on the pieces of cloth. 

It felt impossible to not keep recalling the harsh reprimanding and even harsher insults that Strauss had thrown at you. She had decided that today was the day to rip into you over something as simple as some paperwork. 

According to Strauss, she won't accept idiocracy or carelessness in her employees. Apparently, this ‘moronic’ mistake could've caused miscommunication, which could've caused a field agent to be injured or killed. 

her harsh words clawed at your thoughts as you leaned against the counter in the kitchen, lost in thought. 

when you finally forced yourself to make some dinner, you couldn't bring yourself to make an actual meal. So you opted instead to munch on a bag of trail mix. 

without the distraction of figuring out what to eat you felt the lump rise again in your throat, strauss’ words ringing in your thoughts.

the lump grew to a burning behind your eyes as you sunk down into the old leather couch that smelled like worn pages.

Spencer's whole apartment smells like old books, that was one of the things that you'd always loved about your boyfriend's apartment.

Usually the smell was a comfort, but today it only furthered to remind you of his absence. Everything reminded you of Spencer when he was gone. 

The apartment smelled like him, the kitchen had remnants of Spencer's rushed breakfast that you hadn't the will to clean. And of course every book littered on almost every surface.

You almost hoped the leather would open up and swallow you so you wouldn't have to think anymore. But when no matter how much you willed it to happen and it didn't, you instead opted for the tv. 

Friends almost immediately became static. And in this static you felt a warmth on your cheek. A tear. And then another one, and another. And another. 

Soon the floodgates were open and your lip wobbled. The only thing you could do was pull your knees up to your chest as you leaned to lay sideways with your head on the pillow, and hope that Spencer would come home soon.

Soon the mixing of the TV, the AC unit, and the dehumidifier all became one collective static noise to your ears. 

It felt like moments later when you blinked your eyes open from a sort of half sleep half trance. But then you realized what had woken you; the door unlocking and creaking open across the small mudroom area.

You could hear the faint sound of shoes sliding off, and a bag slumping on the floor as you tried your best to rub off the tear tracks and rub the redness from your eyes away as Spencer approached. 

When your boyfriend had arrived, the first thing he noticed as the door closed behind him was that most of the lights were turned off, and that friends was playing faintly on the tv. 

All this led Spencer to deduce that you had fallen asleep by the tv waiting for him. It was only 9 pm, but he assumed you'd had a long day at work. That was an understatement. 

As he rounded the couch, where he expected to find your sleeping frame, he instead found you, with eyes reddened from tears that had long since been shed. 

Spencer's face immediately twisted into a concerned frown, a knot between his brows forming as he took you in. 

You looked,, tired. Spencer could see the obvious rementants of tears on your reddened cheeks and in your tired, tired eyes. 

When you finally looked at Spencer, he cupped your face in his hand, using his thumb to softly brush away the tears. 

No words had been spoken yet, your lip only wobbled the tiniest bit. That was when Spencer finally spoke, “oh honey,”.

Spencer spoke so softly if he hadn't been inches away from you, you wouldn't have heard him. His voice was murmured and gentle.

The sound of Spencer's voice is what caused you to break. You're pretty sure your body was aware that it was finally safe, now that your boyfriend was here. With Spencer you were safe.

The wobbling lip turned to broken sob, and a new round of tears streaking your cheeks. Spencer could feel them hitting his fingers and wetting them. 

You needed to be held, and Spencer knew that. So he moved from standing in front of you, to sitting with you in his warm embrace finally.

With you in his arms, you could finally let out the tears comfortably. Their warmth wet Spencer's work shirt, the thin material becoming darker. 

You had immediately buried your face in his neck, allowing his scent to overtake you. He smelled like the worn pages of a book and coffee grounds. 

It filled your nostrils and made you breath in a deep sigh. Spencer had inadvertently helped to stop you from crying. 

He had that effect on you, bringing peace. “You wanna talk about it?” Spencer asked, again speaking with a murmured and ever so gentle tone. 

Spencer could feel you sigh into his neck, it was the only response you gave him. Spencer took this as you needed to talk about it, but refused to.

So he asked again- “darling you should at least tell me what happened- please?” Spencer spoke with the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

The only reason you could see the puppy eyes Spencer was so good at was that he had forced you (gently guided your head with his hands) to look at him. 

But he was right in doing it, as the look on his face made you cave. You just couldn't not- it was Spencer after all. 

Spencer noticed this shift almost immediately. His face softened more than it already had if that was even possible. 

“Come on love,”

The furrow between his brows was so tight with worry for his boyfriend you thought they might become one conjoined eyebrow. This thought made you let out a little chuckle through the tears. 

With a final sigh, you begin, “well Strauss yelled at me today in front of everyone over a filing error, she said that- that idiotic mistakes like that get agents killed in the field..” you trailed off, not wanting to continue the story as your voice had cracked. 

Spencer could tell there was more, but he didn't pry. He just went into helpful boyfriend mode and started rubbing your back gently, allowing you to rest your head back into the crook of his neck.

“My darling I'm sorry-” His voice had a slight gravel to it from how low and soft he spoke. 

You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he spoke, and the way the soft skin under his jaw moved in tandem. 

You tried to use this to distract yourself from the tears still making their way down your cheeks. It didn't work. 

Instead Spencer took your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Would you like some tea, I got a new one you might like at the shop the other day” Spencer said hopefully. 

You nodded pitifully, your shoulders still heavy. Spencer just pecked your temple as he stood up. 

Only minutes and the sound of a whistling tea kettle later Spencer came back with two mugs. They were a matching set that had Mr. on each, reminiscent of Mr. and Mrs. mugs. Penelope had gifted them as a half joking present a couple years ago.

He placed both on separate coasters on the worn coffee table before pulling you back into his lap. His lanky arms wrapped around you gently and brought you close to his chest. 

You relaxed back into him as he gently played with your hair. He spoke calm, soft, and reassuring words to you.

He also peppered small kisses against your hair and behind your ear and anywhere else he could find as you eventually fell asleep against him. 

The End

Taglist- @spencers1wifey | @mvndfvelds | @mindfullycriminal | @luce-reid I @ferrjulie | @khxna | @ilovebeingdelulu | @lover-of-books-and-tea I @jaden-reid | @eli-chris | @multifandomsimp69 | @Multiversejumper | @shadoesx| @luvkatryna | @gnrswife | @pleasantwitchgarden

Join my taglist here!

[sweetismyaddiction]

SUCROSE MASTERLISTS

Status: completed

Summary: They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love

Friends to lovers

Chapter 1: Derek Morgan, next door - | Word account: 1199 | Summary: They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love | Warnings: Swearing, fluff, friends to lovers

Chapter 2: Sugary - | Word account: 2005 | Summary: Where the nicknames came from, how they meet, starts. (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love) | Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, mentions of menstruation and coffee facts?

Chapter 3: Narcotics, care and family - | Word account: 1905 | Summary: Visiting his mother that likes you dearly, to Spencer’s happiness, taking care of each other makes butterflies go all over the place. Asking for advice for friends. (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love) | Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, possessiveness?, pain, menstruation, innocent kisses?

Chapter 4: Declaration - | Word account: 1271 | Summary: Spencer gets courage to tell what he truly feels (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love) | Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, kiss

[writerscafehub]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀: 𝐋𝐢𝐳

@avengers-resident-idiot

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

About a 3 I think, I hav𖤓 liz 𖤓en’t written anything in a while because I’ve been busy with work and school. I struggle with actually finishing anything, I swear my drafts is a graveyard of WIPs. Once I get done with my finals I plan to actually try and sit down and actually write a fic or at the very least headcanons

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I feel like my writing is very self indulgent, I fantasize for literal days or weeks about what I personally would want to happen and imagine myself as the reader in the fic and just run with it. I have tried a few times to write an idea that a friend gives me and I just struggle cause I get stuck in my own head wondering if I’m writing it how they personally would want it.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Literally everybody in the server, the fact that y'all are so imaginative and are so motivated to write fics on a consistent basis never fails to amaze me, I am on my knees begging for a crumb of the kind of motivation y’all got. 

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of? 

Honestly probably the very first fic I ever wrote, which was a Zayn Malik fanfiction (I was a HUGE One Direction fan…honestly I still am). It was terrible, and so ridiculously cringey but to middle school me, I was the next Shakespeare  and was just proud that I actually wrote something and put it on the internet for the world to see and I regret nothing. 

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write? 

The easiest is probably Peter Parker cause he’s such a sassy little shit and I love him. The hardest is probably Dr. Spencer Reid, I’ve tried before and I just can’t get his mannerisms right. 

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

I feel like my most of my wips are friends to lovers with misunderstandings galore 

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

I’ve been planning this fic out in my head for the past month, idk for sure what I’m gonna call it, but it’s gonna be an Evan “Buck” Buckley x reader fic, I’m considering adding Eddie Diaz into the mix cause honestly it’s what we deserve. Basically the reader is going to open up a bakery across from the fire station and our lovely firefighters can’t resist the smell of warm bread and coffee in the morning so they go and meet Reader (considering giving her a nickname) who is dancing to 80’s music and may or may not be covered in flour, and from there hijinks, first dates, and love confessions ensue. 

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

One Direction and I regret nothing

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

Ooo  misunderstandings that can be easily resolved if they JUST TALK, found family tropes almost always make me cry, fake dating never fails to make me laugh because the characters never think it through and I love that for them with that being said idiots to lovers is another big one, especially if they share exactly one brain cell. 

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

Probably anything dark, nothing wrong with dark fics, I just don’t think I’d ever be able to write a dark fic well enough where it was actually understandable or good for that matter.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Another One Direction fanfiction, but this time Liam Payne, it's since been deleted but basically gang leader!Liam and the reader were highschool sweethearts and broke up cause Liam betrayed her, if i remember right he gets her brother arrested? Years later she comes back to town and is part of an all girls gang and Liam's gang (One Direction) start fighting over territory, there were drunken confessions, a secret child, and attempted kidnappings and literally every other chapter one of them almost died. Middle school me was very proud of it.

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

Steve Rogers x innocent!reader, knight!Bucky x princess!Reader, Evan “Buck” Buckley x reader

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Yes, I have so many playlists, everytime I get an idea for a fic I run to Spotify and immediately create a new one and add songs that fit the vibe I’m going for, doesn’t matter what genre or language so long as I think it fits it gets added to the playlist.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

Definitely both, I am not picky whatsoever. 

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

Omg yes, I honestly think this is part of the reason it’s so hard for me to finish writing anything. The second I get a new idea for a fic I start imagining all sorts of different scenarios I could put them in like trips to the zoo, grocery shopping or like the same scenes from the fic, but from another character's point of view. Even if it’s not going to be part of the fic I imagine what the proposal would be like, what their vows would be, or how they'd react to their first child being born. My mind goes a hundred miles a minute when I get a new idea, but the second I sit down to write it out poof all the ideas are gone.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Honestly smut. There are so many talented writers out there who do a great job at writing smut, but whenever I try it just comes out to stiff and doesn’t sound write, so I always end up deleting it 

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I was once told I was very good at descriptions, they said they could picture the night sky in their mind and it was like they were there. 

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Eh not really, I usually stick to fluff, humor and slight angst, I want to try step out of my comfort zone by writing smut, but it’ll be a while before I post anything 

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Oh my gosh how could I possibly choose, most of the time it just depends what kind of mood I’m in but lately it’s been tooth-rotting fluffy with a tiny bit of angst mixed in

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

At this point in time I do not have any oc’s, but I’m considering creating one for my Evan “Buck” Buckley fic. 

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Probably my WIP Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader because who wouldn’t want to be protected by an extremely handsome Bucky who acts like you're a nuisance, but would do anything to protect you no questions asked if ever necessary?? And also I just love the idea of running down a castle hallway at night wearing a floor length ball gown.

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

Just that my process involves creating the perfect playlist for that specific fic and tons of daydreaming, and while it may take me a long time to finally finish writing, I’m always excited to share it and get feedback!

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of. 

This is from my knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!reader wip                            

“Do you think I am inadequate because I am a female, my Lord? Is that what you’re saying? You think that I am unfit to rule because I'm a little emotional right now?  Well you’re right, I am a little emotional right now. From the moment I was born, it was known that I, and I alone, would be next in line to assume the throne. My entire life was spent preparing for the moment that my reign would begin and I intend to use all the knowledge my father, may God rest his soul, taught me.  Just two weeks ago I watched as they lowered my father’s cold, dead body into the ground and not a week later a crown was placed atop my head…. a crown I thought my father would be giving me.  I am emotional because right now at this very moment there are rebels out there, only God knows where, hatching plans to storm this castle! This castle has stood here for 300 hundred years and I intend for it to stand for many more. I refuse to let the rebels take my country and everything that my family has worked for.  Now, we have much more pressing matters to deal with than your fragile egos, don’t you think my Lords?”

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

Have fun with writing! Don’t worry about whether or not the idea you want to write has been written before because it most definitely has been, but it’s never been written by you! 

I’m excited to finally be done with my classes and I hope to to write more and post my fics throughout the summer!