#matthew gray gubler x yn

[endearng]

Tie

Pairing: switch!Spencer Reid x sub!fem!reader Summary: Spencer gets unreasonably jealous of you. You let him take control to comfort and reassure him. That's what loving girlfriends do. WC: 3.6k Warnings: smut - oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, kinda softdom!Spencer, reader is compliant to everything he says, he's just as desperate as her, sir kink, creamp1e (i long for a better word), bondage, unprotected pinv, dirty talk (they yap), pet names, pussy slapping. Jealous Spencer deserves a warning of its own. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: I have no excuse for myself (I'm ovulating). This is pure filth and indulgent because I was being tortured with thoughts of Spencer.

Feedbacks are always welcomed and appreciated <3 Masterlist

Subtle touches from Spencer all night had you going crazy. Well, they weren’t exactly that subtle.

During a particular conversation you were having with Rossi about Italian cuisine (you were an enthusiast, both of cooking and eating Italian dishes like nothing else existed), Spencer, who had an armed slung over the chair you were sitting on, started twirling your hair in his fingers. When you laughed at some remark about how French people are insane for combining dairy with fish, your boyfriend pulled your hair rather crudely. You glared at him from the corner of your eye.

You got somewhat angry because it was uncomfortable for you to be that intimate around others, but his teasing worked wonders on you. Now, you wanted his touch to be bolder, thirstier, needier, just to match your own sinful thoughts and wants. Right now, Spencer was saying goodbye to Rossi, who was waiting for a cab to take him and his wife back home. Spencer's hand rested at the small of your back. The wine you sipped all through the night, combined with Spencer's bratty behavior, was now making your pussy throb with need for your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you all worked up in public. "Goodbye, Krystall, and again, happy birthday. Thank you for including me! It was incredible," you said to the woman, who hugged you warmly and thanked you with a smile on her face. "Looking forward to those cooking sessions you mentioned earlier," you said, a big smile on your face as you gave David Rossi a hug.

"Anytime, bellissima." He said simply as you pulled away, smile gracing his face. You held out your hand to Spencer to walk back to his car.

The nickname had struck a nerve. He wasn't jealous, no, he trusted you with his body and his soul, even if he, as a man of science, didn't believe in the latter — that's how much he loved and trusted you, and it was Rossi, for God's sake... Still, he was just another man. Another stupid, territorial man. He opened the door for you and you entered the car, giving him a peck on the lips, "Thanks, handsome."

"Anytime, bellissima," he said through gritted teeth after he closed the door and as you fastened your seatbelt, out of your earshot. He turned around to enter the car, taking the driver's seat.

You went home silently, but you could sense the heavy atmosphere between you on the way there. As you entered your apartment, he got down on his knees to take off your shoes for you. He always did it, no matter what. Apparently, acting weird was no exception to his care with you. You bit your lip, a little apprehensive to bring up the subject. "Thank you, baby," you said softly instead.

"You're welcome, darling." he said, not looking at you and taking longer than necessary in his task.

You sucked in a breath. "Okay, baby, what was that? We need to talk about it."

"What was what?"

"Just when we left the restaurant. I said thanks and you basically ignored me all the way here," you explained, even if you knew he definitely knew what you were talking about. your hand found the nape of his neck, making him look up at you. He had a guilty look on his face.

Busted.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was mean." He apologized, eyes sincerely searching your form and hands reaching up to rest on the sides of your hips.

"Why did you do it, then?"

"Bellissima. You know what it means. I just got... jealous? I should be the only one complimenting you," he said, now standing at full height in front of you. Kissing your lips, hands caressing your waist, touch light as a feather, "telling you how much you mean to me," you sighed as his lips brushed the skin of your neck, "how much it drives me crazy just seeing you," he bit the sweet spot just behind your ear, "my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. Mine."

You pulled on his hair so he could see your features. Looking him dead in the eye, with an almost angry look on your face. You wanted him to pay for everything he had done that night. "Baby, you were touching me all night, knowing that you were driving me insane. knowing you're the only one who gets to do that," you leaned in to kiss him softly. "And then throw a tantrum like the spoiled little thing that you are just because someone said a word to me? You know compliments mean nothing when it comes from someone who's not you, baby. Thought you knew better."

Silence. He looked at you like you kicked his dog. 

"Remind me, then," he retorted, looking you in the eye. "Remind me how much you're mine and mine only."

One of your favorite things about your relationship with Spencer was that, in public, your dynamic was totally different from what you were like between four walls. When you were surrounded by people, Spencer acted like a gentleman, always making sure to cater to your every whim, opening car doors, taking off your shoes for you, picking nice places to take you on dates, accepting your suggestions of what to wear — it was no coincidence that he looked a lot more styled lately, but you also loved his usual attires. It was how you met him and how you fell in love with him, after all.

But, in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to have you), it was totally different. You were compliant to everything he said, letting go of the control you had over yourself, over your relationship, over everything so he could take you to fucking heavens. You obeyed everything without so much a "yes, sir", and he fucking loved it.

He unzipped the skin-tight dress after leading you back to your shared room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, you stood before him, whose tie was loosened around his neck. "Is this all for me?" he asked as he saw what you had underneath your dress all night long, absolutely sick with the slightest idea that someone else could have that.

You sighed as he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts, easily unclasping your bra. "Yes, sir, all for you."

Just like clockwork, all his attention drifted to your breasts. One of his large, calloused hands held your waist securely and the other played with one of your nipples as he licked the other, his hot tongue circling the nub, making you whimper and sending a rush of wetness through your core. "mmm, always need my mouth full of you, angel."

"nnngh, it feels so good."

He smiled on your skin, biting your nipple afterwards. The sting made you see stars and desperate to feel him in some sort of way, you'd take anything he had to offer you. You just needed to be touched. As he continued your ministrations on your breasts, switching from one to the other, you moaned, your hands finding his hair. "Sir—ah—, can you please—touch me?"

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, laughing mockingly. "Is that all it takes, pretty? A few minutes of my mouth on you and you're already so pliant? So eager for me to touch you?"

"Yes, sir. I need you so bad."

"Tell me, then," he scoffed, "where do you want me to touch you?"

Your incoherent babbles meant nothing, so he just laughed at your poor attempt at an answer.

"You're so good at begging, aren't you?" You nodded, licking your lips with the sight of his wet ones. "Wanna kiss me, baby?"

"Always do. Can I?"

"Yes, you can." No matter how dominant he was, he could never deny you a kiss.

You leaned down to kiss him. The brush of your lips alone made Spencer crazy, craving more and more. He could spend hours just kissing you, never getting tired of the mind numbing sensation it had on him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue caressing his, earning a moan from his end. You smiled. "I love kissing you." You whispered as you barely pulled away, breathless.

"I know you do, pretty."

His hands trailed on the sides of your body, earning a shiver from you. Just as he reached the hem of your panties, they traveled up again, grazing the skin of your arms instead. As he found your hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. He stood up and looked down at you, in for another kiss. "You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned. His words only spurred you further. "Take off my shirt. Slowly." he commanded. And you complied, taking every chance to brush your fingers against his hot skin, desperate to rake your nails on his chest, to make him shiver for you, too.

Spencer turned you around gently so you could see yourself in the big mirror placed in front of the bed. You watched as he pushed your hair out of his way, resting it on your left shoulder to give him access to your neck, his hands finding your breasts so he could play with them, too. He started with light kisses on your neck, lips barely brushing the area, making goosebumps soon erupt on your skin. His caresses got gradually more aggressive, making you blatantly moan his name when he bit the sweet spot behind your ear and grinded his clothed dick against your ass. You whimpered, overwhelmed with so many stimuli.

Turning you to face him, again, he sat you on the edge of the bed, covered only by your underwear in front of him. You could see the tent in his pants and you were desperate to taste him, to take him in your mouth in order to make him as crazy as he made you. God, the things you'd do to hear him whimper like he knew you loved to hear...

"Thinking about something, angel?" He chuckled, mocking you yet again when he saw what were you looking at and the position you put yourself in: cunt in full display after you placed both feet at the edge of the bed.

You nodded violently. That was how you always found yourself pleading for him. It didn't take much, honestly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything. jus', please, let me feel you,"

Anything...

"Aw, pretty, you're so desperate for me," his tone was condescending. "thought you'd wanted someone else for a moment tonight."

"No! No! Never, sir. Never. I only want you. I only want you to touch me."

Leaning down, his fingers raked over your stomach, ghosting over the fabric of your panties. Spencer groaned as he touched the wet patch on your underwear, glistening, begging for attention.

"'s just how much I want you..."

"Look at you, angel, begging me to have my way with you," he sneered, "so pretty..." he muttered, getting down on his knees.

Through your soaked underwear, Spencer caressed your mound and outer lips, almost as if he was drawing your cunt from scratch, tracing every single feature, making it cling even harder to the garment. Each touch made you feel eager. Want something, say something, right?

He teased you for what felt like hours, but when you were finally able to form a sentence, he pushed your panties to the side and he moaned lowly at the sight of you. "Spence—sir..." You started, but were cut by a breathless grunt that raked through you as he licked a broad stripe on your slit.

"You are soaked, princess, had to have a taste of you... you were sayin'?"

"Please, don't stop, sir," your hands flew to his hair, trying to push him back to what he had started.

"Nuh-uh, princess," he tsked, gathering his tie from the floor, "You don't deserve to touch me after the little show you put up today. I’m gonna have to tie you up, alright?" 

There it was. Your punishment.

One thing about Spencer is that he always made sure to tell you whatever he was planning on doing with you, both so that you could say no if you wanted to and also because it turned you on beyond limits. It made your heart soar, he was so careful with you, making every man on earth seem like straight up Neanderthals. You whined at his plan as he looked at you to see if you were okay with the idea.

You jutted your lip out, brows furrowing, but you couldn't disagree with him. Adorable, he thought. He tied both of your hands behind your back, using his fucking tie. "... Yes, 's alright. I jus' wish I could touch you so badly," you complained.

"I know, pretty," he cooed, "that's why I'm gonna give you a chance to be good for me, and when you prove to me you can do it, you can touch me all you want."

"O-okay," you stuttered as he started placing teasing kisses on your inner thighs. You sighed.

"You smell so good. Want me to taste you too, hm? You're soaked, your pussy is begging me to do something about it."

"Yes, yes, I do!" you almost yelled. "Please, sir, I'll be good for you."

"I know you fucking will." he stated. Just then, he started licking your pussy, delicately at first just so you could get used to the feeling of finally having him the way you wanted. His hands held your hips in place to stop you from moving. He was the one in control, after all.

Then, once he sucked your clit between his lips, he started flicking his tongue against the nub, eliciting moans from you. The taste of you in his tongue was something he could never get used to, every fucking time felt like the first. He felt addicted to the power it had over him. The best he could do was at least try to be in control. You squirmed, almost like you wanted to get away from him, but his firm hands held you in place. "Be good and stay still," he muttered against your core, slapping your pussy once. You nodded, whining, too lost in the feeling after the sting, in the feeling of his tongue punishing you in a rhythm that put you in a frenzy. Spencer's middle finger slowly pushed inside your fluttering walls. "You're dripping all over my fingers. What a messy girl."

Knuckle deep inside your cunt and mouth feverishly and steadily working on your clit, your boyfriend started to feel more and more desperate by the second with the sounds coming from your mouth. You, on the other hand, could almost taste your release, a complete mess on the bed, chants leaving your reddened lips from all the biting, "yes, sir! You make me feel s'good, you're s'deep in me. Fuck! I'm your good g—" as he heard your words tinged with desperation in a high pitched voice and felt the muscles in your pussy tighten, he quickly stopped his actions.

He would bet money that it hurt him more than it did you.

"Noooo..." you whined, like a spoiled brat. A breathless, messy, spoiled brat. You knew what you were in for from the moment he took off your shoes. "Please, please, sir. You can f-eel how desperate I am for you," you blabbered, trying to argue. "Can I show you?" You decided to take matters into your own hands. Well, as best as you could.

He stood up. "Let's see what you've got, princess." He gripped his shaft in front of you, making saliva pool in your mouth. "You're not even being fucked yet, and you're already this dumb, baby?" He sneered at you. You looked up at his face, taking in his dilated pupils watching you. You looked like any man's wet dream, perfect pussy on display, chest heaving with anticipation of what was coming next, face contorted in the filthiest expression in the world.

He would be happy just to watch you, but he was actually able to taste, touch, see, smell and hear the whole thing.

He was the luckiest man in the world.

Half sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and already off of his slacks and briefs, he beckoned you over to his lap. You kneeled somewhat awkwardly on the bed to hover on his lap, cunt dripping arousal on his belly as you did so. He groaned, the dominant facade faltering for a moment. He had to be the most indulgent dominant man ever, because he was barely able to resist you and your seducing ways. "See how wet you make me?" You whispered, eyes focused on his, which looked directly at the sheer liquid pooling on his stomach.

"You're such a good girl, baby" in a weakened voice made its way out of his mouth. "Since you asked so nicely and you have proof, why don't you show me how much you love riding me, huh? Come on, pretty, sit on my cock. Ride me." His commanding sentences made your cunt gush yet again.

"Yes, sir!" you exclaimed, ready to obey his commands.

Spencer gripped his base and rubbed his dick against your folds. He groaned, biting his lip and it took every single ounce of self control not to kiss him senseless. After some more teasing, he muttered, "You can do it now."

You sat down on him, slowly, pushing the tip in. "Fuck," hoarse voice, just the way he loved it, "you feel so good, sir. And you're not even fully in yet."

"Come on, nice and slow, princess."

You sank a little further, his girth stretching you out so deliciously that it made you shut your eyes closed as goosebumps erupted on your skin, pure bliss running through you. "Fuck—ah— you're so, so hard, sir," you hissed.

"Yes, that's it," he grabbed your hands in one of his. He felt you clench around him. "Gonna make sure you get off on my cock alone."

Recalling his demand, you obeyed. Nice and slow, savoring the feeling of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. each time you pulled back just to slam his dick inside again made you feel dizzy. Spencer was mesmerized by the sight before him. First, your expression told him how much you enjoyed riding him, mouth agape to let out the dirtiest moans and words, unlike the poised woman he liked to brag about to whoever listened. "Fuck, you're so deep. 's so good, love it when you let me ride you, sir."

Spencer kept silent for a moment, still admiring your form. He watched as the hair on your skin shivered each time he started to meet your thrusts, eager to make you his. his eyes drifted to your breasts, bouncing with every movement of your bodies. It was wanton, watching you get off on top of him, using him to chase your own high, but the sight that got him enthralled was your pussy making his cock glisten with your arousal. "Yeah, pretty? So what do you say? D'you remember you have to be nice?"

"Thank you, sir"

"Thank you for what?" he urged.

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight pussy, baby, so perfect for me."

“Thank you for letting me sit on your cock. Ah! I'm all yours, sir! Yours."

At this point, Spencer was a goner below you. You rocked your hips and he met you thrusts ruthlessly, focused on chasing your high. You slowed your movements, clit grinding against his pubic bone, dick still rock hard inside of you. You felt the telling signs of your orgasm approaching and, mind filled with thoughts of all the filth you've done with him. You still wanted to do much more. "Fuck, pretty girl—you're so good at taking me."

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your tits brushing against his skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations. "Can I come, sir? Please! I want to come all over your cock," all your sentences sounded like heavenly, pathetic whines to Spencer's ears.

"You hafta take it, princess," he groaned, hands guiding your movements. "Take. It." He urged, words emphasized by two particularly hard thrusts. “Wanna come inside of you.”

"Yes, please! I'm all yours—Spencer!" You yelled out his name as your orgasm washed over you, still grinding against him.

The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to follow you not shortly after. “Gonna come—fuck—inside you.” He gritted. After spilling inside you, he kept fucking his cum back inside with a few sloppier thrusts.

You crashed beside him, taking a minute to catch your breath. Spencer quickly reached to undo his tie on your wrists, kissing the soft skin after removing the garment. You chuckled at his care. “Don't ever stop me from touching you again,” you muttered.

“What are you going to do, angel? Stop me?” He laughed softly.

He cleaned you both up and you had your hands free to caress your boyfriend’s skin all night long.

The next morning, Spencer had you on the phone as he walked in the bullpen, saying “yes”, “of course”, and a series of different agreements, gleeful expression on his face.

He heard Derek Morgan chuckle. "Aw, Reid, she already telling you what to do?"

"There's no time for her to start, you know that, Derek," Emily quipped.

They had no idea you were telling him about the wet dream you had about him fucking you in the middle of the bullpen.

[velvetwilde]

Both. At the same time.

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

Derek: Those pants look great Y/N

Y/N: Thanks!

Derek: I bet they would look even better on Spencer’s floor

Spencer: Are you hitting on Y/N…for me?

[alana-reid-2005]

i need him like i need the blood in my veins

[killerlookz]

Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid

description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.

pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader

content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.

word count: 4,242

If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.

The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.

You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.

You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.

You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.

You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.

You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.

The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.

"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.

The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"

Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.

"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.

His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.

"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.

"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.

"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.

"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"

He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."

"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"

"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."

"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."

You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"

He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.

You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.

"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."

"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."

"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.

"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."

"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."

Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.

"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.

"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"

"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.

"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."

His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.

"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,

"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."

Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."

"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.

"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.

"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink

"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,

"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"

"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.

"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."

"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.

"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."

"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"

Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.

"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.

Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"

"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"

Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.

"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.

"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.

"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"

"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.

"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"

"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.

"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."

"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."

"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.

"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.

"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."

"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.

You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.

"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.

The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.

"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"

You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.

"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.

Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.

As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.

With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.

"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,

"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."

"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.

"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.

"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."

"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.

"Better?" Spencer asks.

"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."

Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.

"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."

"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.

"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.

The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?

The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.

"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.

"University Drive."

The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-

"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."

"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.

Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.

The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.

"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.

"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.

You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.

You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.

"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.

"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.

"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.

"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.

"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.

"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.

You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.

"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.

"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.

"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"

"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"

"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.

You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"

"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."

Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.

The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.

"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.

"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."

"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.

A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)

[almostwisegalaxy]

I looking for you

..................................................................................

(After prison Reid)

It was a day like any other. Another case in the hands of the FBI. So why did everything go wrong? They had to break up a pimping ring, but they were walking on eggshells because big money personalities were involved. The whole team was on edge. If they didn't succeed, it would be the end of them and their careers.

Tonight's big "auction" is their only chance. These perverts will all be brought together to spend their money for the chance to walk away with the jackpot. You. Your virginity at last. The team was overwhelmed, especially Spencer. What can I say, he was furious to see them acting like they were betting on sports. But he had to stay calm for your sake and the smooth running of the operation.

Everything was going according to plan. They'd arrested everyone involved in the trafficking, and all the victims had been rescued. So why couldn't they find you? You couldn't just disappear. Spencer had searched for you for hours. But he was forced to catch the next plane to Quantico with his colleagues.

Even in Virginia, miles away, Spencer kept looking for you. You were never far from his mind, wondering how you were, what condition you were in after the traumas you'd endured. It became an obsession. One night, one of his contacts informed him that he'd spotted you on the sidewalk near the junkies' corner. He wasted no time in gathering his belongings from his desk, drawing the attention of his friends. It had become customary for him to act this way whenever he had news about you. Emily became concerned and came over to talk to him.

"Spencer, you can't keep doing this." He didn't listen.

"We did everything we could that night, you need to stop risking your sanity for one victim," Emily's words stopped him.

"One victim? Of course, for you it's just another victim on the list, isn't it? She might be dead or in hell by now, and neither her family nor the local police have tried to look for her, And I'm the only person who still cares about her right now, so let me do what I do best, which is save lives".

Within twenty minutes, he was in that alley looking for you. He saw you struggling for help as two obviously drunk men tried to drag you away. Of course he intervened, but after he had subdued them, he noticed that you were unconscious on the ground. He then took you home, changed your clothes, and laid you on his bed. The more he watched you sleep, the more the feeling grew in his heart, wondering if it was love or obsession .Whatever it was, he decided he wouldn't let you go - the outside world was too dangerous for you. He'll keep you here and take care of you. He'll let you rest in his room and wait for you to wake up.

..................................................................................

[dysphoricsanity]

Matthew recently, delivering his 2nd book!!!! I’m so proud of him 🥹🥹🥹

[emeraldjoonie]

Matthew Gray Gubler playing Spencer Reid in Criminal minds pt1❤

[mrshargreeves]

if you post a good pic on here best believe i WILL be reposting it to pinterest

[yesttoheaven]

I mean... should I do this?

Is Matthew really the culprit or is that what the media wants you to believe?

Anyway, if anyone wants to be tagged, just let me know. ✨️

you and pedro were always good friends, but things changed...

[i used ana de armas as FC, but imagine you]

[endearng]

Special guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter somsgimdz went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He handed you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear on working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smile adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[velvetwilde]

He will always be my akward little baby <3

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

An Inconvenient Affection [Chapter 9]

Summary: When a couples’ therapist is suspected of murdering his own patients, Y/N and Spencer must go undercover as a feuding married couple to draw him out.

Chapter Summary: You already know!

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for all of the continued support, I've had an incredibly busy few weeks and I appreciate the patience more than you know. Thank you so much for all of the messages, and everyone who has asked to be added to the taglist should be on there, I'm not ignoring you I swear! So please, take this chapter as my sincere apology and appreciation. Love you all ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: NSFW language, sexual themes, language, mentions of stalking & infidelity, alcohol consumption, food mention, kissing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, hand job, marking, bruising etc.

Word Count: 4k

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

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Read it on AO3

There had been lots of little touches before. Nothing more than a link at the elbow, or a pat on the shoulder. Fingers gently ghosting over fabric, never daring to make contact with bare skin. She knew he was strange when it came to physical touch, she’d been told as much when they were introduced on her very first day. So she’d respected that, accepting it as a part of his nature. Until she noticed the way he happily embraced other members of the team, while turning down handshakes from strangers over and over again. And once several months had passed she really liked to think of herself as more than just a stranger to Spencer Reid. Even if the desire was born out of a selfish need to be liked by him, when she first hugged him it was anything but selfish.

Spencer was quiet on the drive back to the hotel, his head resting idly against the window, seemingly so lost in thought he barely noticed the way the rattling was giving him a headache. Anytime he was asked a question, always something along the lines of ‘Are you feeling alright?’ and ‘Are you sure?’. He could only really manage a curt and mumbled ‘Just tired.’ before retreating inside his own head again.

But she could see through that, she knew him well enough by now to know he needed more than just polite a inquiry. So she gave him a few minutes once they all scattered to their respective hotel rooms. She told herself it was for his benefit, to let him get settled before she tried to approach him, but in the back of her mind she knew she needed the time for herself, to force herself to walk the distance to his room. When she knocked on the door she’d barely mustered up the courage, her knuckles rapping against the wood so gently that she was surprised he’d even heard it at all.

“Hi” she says softly, like he should know why she’s here, but he just looks at her confused. His eyebrows drawn together in a little wrinkle on his forehead.

“Um… hi?” he responds, a little awkward, but he still pulls the door open slowly, leaving a large enough gap to let her into the room. Which she felt was a positive sign, until she took the invitation and found herself standing strangely opposite him with nothing to really say. In spite of him letting her in, he didn’t seem inclined to talk, his jaw set in either anger or upset, she couldn’t really tell, but she did know that he wasn’t behaving like himself, and that he hadn’t been all day.

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped, his posture exhibiting nothing but pure fatigue. She wants to join him, to sit next to him and provide some sort of comfort, but part of her thinks he’s just too polite to tell her to leave.

“If you’re— If you want to be alone, I can go? I don’t know? I should go…” she begins to ramble, turning on her heel. But she barely makes it one step before he finally beings to speak.

“No!” he blurts out, and when she turns to face him again, his expression looks just as shocked as hers must, “Stay. Please?” he mumbles the last part, his eyes failing to meet hers as he asks the question. But she could never refuse any request of his, so she joins him on the edge of the bed, like she’d wanted to all along.

The physical contact is almost accidental. She forgets who she’s sitting next to and does what she would do for anyone else in this situation. She slings her arm around his shoulder and pulls him in against her side. When she realizes what she’s done, her first instinct is to yank her arm back as though he’s scalded her, but she thinks the better of it when she notices the way he seems to relax into her touch. It takes a second but he begins to snuggle closer into her side, slouching a little more so that he can rest his head against hers.

They stay like that for a few minutes, doing nothing but breathe in tandem and stare at the carpet in front of them. Even though she’s happy that he seems comfortable, she can’t help but want more. To hug him properly, and show him the kind of support he needs, so she pulls her arm back. His head snaps up almost instantly, and there’s a look that she might go so far as to call disappointment, plastered all over his face.

She doesn’t provide any explanation, instead she wordlessly climbs onto her knees, scrambling a little further up the bed until she can nestle behind him. Placing a leg on either side of his and tucking herself in against his back, so she can curl her body around his. Her arms wrapping around him as snug as she can, her head resting gently against his shoulder so that he can feel the steady rhythm of her breath against his ear.

“Y’know, a hug can be very grounding in times of intense stress or anxiety?” he says, and she’s struck by how much like himself he sounds already, so she hums happily in response.

“Things don’t have to be bad to need a hug either. Sometimes it’s just nice to be held” she whispers against his ear, soft and sweet.

“I suppose so. All hugs don’t feel like this though.” he says through a sort of sad chuckle, and it makes her heart ache a little.

“You can ask for a hug anytime you want Spence, just so you know.” she explains, and she can see the way his head nods in response before laying back against her shoulder gently, and whispering a barely audible ‘thank you’.

— — —

There’s a strange silliness to it. The two of them, with her red lipstick smudged across their lips, hearts racing for one another as they tried to gather the scattered ice cubes before they melted into the hardwood of the bedroom floor.

“There!” he points to the last one, nestled under the nightstand next to her with a giggle as she fished it out. Together they dumped them in the sink, standing next to one another with a strange awkwardness all of a sudden, knowing what the next step was supposed to be.

Surprising himself yet again, it’s Spencer who leans in first. His hands reaching out to cup each of her cheeks as he tilts her head up to his, pressing their lips together with a strange softness as if they weren’t on the verge of something much less innocent only a few moments ago. When he pulls back to look down at her, her lips are curved up in a soft smile.

“Do you remember earlier on this evening?” she asks, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“There were a lot of memorable moments this evening, you’re going to have to be more specific” he chuckles, his hands roaming along the curves of her body as he spoke, lingering on her waist, his grip tightening just enough to pull her in closer.

“Before we left… when you told me to let you know if I needed a hand getting out of this dress?” he can’t bring himself to respond, he can only force out a ragged nervous breath at the very thought. And she smiles at his awkwardness, pulling herself gently out of his grip to make her way back to their bedroom. “Does that not ring any bells?” she calls back to him.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s almost tripping over his own feet as they carry him after her. His hands reaching out to pull her close the second she’s within reach, pulling a rough gasp from her lungs as her back collides with his chest.

“If I’m remembering right…” he breathes against the shell of her ear, “You said you needed a strong hand?” as he speaks he lets his hands roam over her figure until one lands firmly on the side of her hip, squeezing tight as he pulls his own body back, just enough to allow his other hand into the empty space between them to grab a hold of her zipper. Tugging it down the length of her back painfully slowly, feeling the fabric of the dress go slack in his hold, seeing the way it slouched off her shoulders, exposing a mixture of silk, lace, and delicate skin that he’d only caught a glimpse of earlier in the evening.

Once the zipper is fully undone he uses both hands to push the dress down so that it pools at her feet. It feels a little unceremonious for such a beautiful garment but he can’t really care any less about it when she’s pressed up against him in nothing but her underwear. His hands explore for a moment. Ghosting down her arms before they’re wrapping around her, one splayed out against her stomach, the other holding tight onto her hip, rooting her in place against him as he tucked his face into her shoulder. He stays like that for a minute, breathing in the scent of her, savoring the feeling of her skin, unimpeded beneath his fingertips.

Using the hand on her hip he urges her to turn around, to face him once again so he can take in the full sight of her. And for a moment when their eyes meet she looks nervous, her hands fidgeting at her sides as they try not to shield herself from his gaze.

He notices the unease in her expression so he pulls her in close with his grip on her hip, his other hand tilting up her chin so that she could look nowhere but his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful” he starts, placing a hungry kiss on her lips, using all of his strength to pull back again so he could finish the sentiment, “You have no idea how many times I thought about this— about you. They never came close.” he says with a shake of his head because it’s the truth. Even though his memory was perfect, he could never quite conjure up a scenario that would live up to the real thing.

“You thought about me?” she asks, her nerves already dissipating in favor of a smug grin. A grin that only grows wider when he nods. “Tell me how you thought about me? Please?” she asks as her hands snake up along his sides, finding their way to the lapels of his jacket, trying to push it off his shoulders. He needs to take his hands off of her in order to oblige, but it’s only momentary. Once his jacket hits the floor he pushes her backwards, and she bounces ever so slightly as she hits the mattress.

He undoes her work earlier, pulling off his bow-tie. Once it’s gone he makes quick work of his shirt, tossing it in a heap with the rest of their clothes on the floor. Before he can make it to his trousers she’s already on it. Sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands working at his belt buckle.

“Fuck” he groans before she’s even really touched him, “I thought about you like this” he finally answers her question. “Only in my wildest dreams did I think you’d want me as badly as I wanted you”

Once her fingers are done pulling the belt from the loops they go immediately to his buttons, unfastening each one in her hurry to pull down his trousers so that he was finally as exposed as she was.

“Spencer” she gasps, her eyes landing on the prominent bulge in his boxers, straining and leaking against the fabric, “I’ve wanted you since like, day 1” she rushes out, her hand gripping him gently over the fabric. His eyes close softly at the sensation of her hands on him, finally, but they shoot open again a moment later so that he can look down at her, and watch as she pulled at his waistband.

“Is this okay?” she asks, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes, and he’s embarrassingly quick to nod. So she tucks her fingers into the elastic and tugs them down the length of his legs until he’s entirely bare in front of her.

“Fuck” she says with a sort of whimper, before she’s taking him in her hand again, but this time he can feel her skin against his, the pads of her fingers as they work against the silky skin, spreading the pre-cum all along his length with each delicate pump of her wrist.

“Oh god, Y/N” he mumbles through a sharp intake of breath, “feels so good”

It’s mostly out of necessity for his trembling legs that he has to pull her off of him. Guiding her hands away just so that he could pin them down to the mattress. One on either side of her head as he laid her down amongst the pillows.

“I thought about you like this too” he admits before placing a heated kiss on her smiling lips, “I pictured you underneath me so many times, that when it finally happened that night, when you were moaning my name—” he can feel his cock twitch against her at the very thought, and she must feel it to because she lets out a perfect little gasp, “I couldn’t fucking take it! I had to leave and get myself off in the shower” he tells her, and for some reason he doesn’t even feel strange about it anymore, “Not for the first, or the last time” he finishes by kissing along the column of her throat, trailing a slew of open mouthed kisses along the bruised skin of her neck like he had done earlier.

When he makes his way past her collar bones, right down to her cleavage, it’s for the second time this evening. But this time it’s only a bra that stands in his way. He has to release his grip on her hands to undo the clasp. She arches her back just enough to help him and he’s sliding the straps off her shoulders a moment later. He can’t even speak when he sees her bare chest, his mouth is preoccupied lavishing the delicate skin with kisses, and small bites in equal measure. Trying to recreate the sounds he’d heard her make for him in that supply closet.

“Shit, Spence…” she moans, her hands flying down to grip at his soft brown curls, “I’ve thought about you like that before too. Touched myself to pictures of you in my head, the noises you make, how you might look when you cum. Wish I could’ve watched you” she says it all through gasps and moans that do little to calm Spencer down, least of all the way she’s so pliable beneath his hands. Her back arching, her head falling back with each soft noise he could draw from her chest. And it reminds him of an earlier conversation.

“Y’know?” he asks, pulling himself up to look down at her as one of his hands trailed further along her body until it was nestled comfortably between her legs, fingertips brushing lightly against the soaked fabric of her panties. “I thought you were supposed to be the one on top?” he teases, “And yet here you are, a desperate little mess underneath me” the way he smirks is devilish, and she can’t really argue with him while his fingers are working against her like that, providing too much and not enough all at once.

So she reaches up and pulls him down for a kiss, her mouth open against his as their lips collide. The vibrations of her moans lingering on his tongue are just enough to distract him from her legs wrapping tight around his hips, using that hold to flip him over so that he landed on his back with a soft thud, and a surprised gasp. “Who said I wasn’t?” she teases right back.

In an effort to have him equally desperate beneath her she grinds down against him. Rubbing her clothed core over his length where it rested along his stomach. The way his eyes shut tight was enough to make her cocky, rocking her hips against his as his hands shot up to hold her waist, either to guide her, or stop her, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Please” he lets out in a small whimper, “uh, fuck! Need you— need to feel you” he pleads. And she wants to give him what he’s asked for, so she reaches a hand between her legs and pulls her panties to the side, continuing the same motions. This time he lets out a strangled moan.

“Fuck you” he chuckles through a harsh breath, and she feigns ignorance.

“Is this not what you wanted?” she asks, and he’s quick to shake his head, so she rises up on her knees a little more and lines him up between her legs. While his eyes are shut at the feeling of her hands wrapped around him, she takes the opportunity to sink down his length.

“Ah— fuck” he moans out as she lowers herself further and further, until he’s buried to the hilt inside of her. And for all of her teasing, it takes every ounce of her strength not to collapse onto him. The sudden stretch is overwhelming, so she braces herself with two hands flat against his chest, slipping slightly in the light sheen of sweat the coated his bare skin.

“You feel so…” he rasped, his voice raw and desperate, “So good… so fucking wet”. The way he looked up at her with such sincere longing made her heart rate speed up, in a way she wasn’t even sure was possible. So she began to move again, lifting her hips slowly, only to let them fall again in an intoxicating rhythm that had Spencer’s hands holding her waist tight, his nails digging into the soft flesh.

While he wishes he was 100% present in the moment, his mind keeps drifting back to the memory of the first time they ‘had sex’. How he thought that was as close as he may ever get to a moment like this, when in reality, it was so remarkably different. In the warm light of the very same bedroom she looked so different now. For one she was wearing nothing but a pair of panties this time, hastily pulled to the side to accommodate him. But this time he could really let himself linger on every little thing, there was no shame or embarrassment, only a comfort and a safety. So he let his eyes wander, watching her expressions as she moved on top of him, her fluttering lashes, her softly parted lips and the whimpers that escaped between them. His gaze slipped further down, to the marks that littered her neck, down to the slowly appearing ones he’d left on her chest. He watched in awe at the way her breasts bounced with each gentle rock of her hips. And finally he let himself stare at the point where their two bodies met, and the way she enveloped him so perfectly each time, it was as though she was made for him.

He only has one problem with the whole situation, and it feels a little selfish to remedy. But he wants to be the one to make her come undone, to challenge any notion she might have of his position in bed. But more than anything he just wants to watch her as she cums beneath him, fucking her until she can’t make a sound that’s not his name.

So he uses his grip on her waist to change their position. It happens so fast that she needs a moment to process just how she ended up on her back. But she doesn’t get any time before he’s slamming into her in one rough thrust, forcing himself as deep as possible inside of her with a groan.

“Fuck Spencer!” she whimpers, her hands reaching up to pull him closer, releasing some of the tension as her nails dig harshly into his shoulders.

“Tell me how it feels” he demands, his hips pulling out only to snap back with the same force.

“So good” she manages to moan out between shallow broken breaths, “So… full”

It doesn’t take very long before they’re both close, Spencer’s hips losing their rhythm with each thrust. And he doesn’t want to presume anything just because they didn’t use a condom, or because he’s seen her birth control pills on her nightstand, so he asks the question.

“Where do you want it?” and she smiles up at him, her legs wrapping around him in response, pulling him in impossibly close.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, though it’s more of a gesture because he’s so close.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything”

Balancing on one hand and he reaches down between their bodies, circling her clit with one finger as he moves his hips in the now limited space. It doesn’t take long before she’s squirming beneath him, letting out harsh pants in the shape of his name as she cums. It’s the way she tenses and relaxes around him that pushes him over the edge so that he’s spilling inside of her, filling her up more than it felt was possible.

When he collapses on top of her its unceremonious and it makes her laugh. Their sweaty bodies sliding against one another as they came down from their respective highs. His head laying on her chest, her hands raking through his hair as he lay soft inside of her still.

“I can’t believe it took us so long to do that” she sighs, “all the hotel rooms we shared, all the times we stayed at each others places? And we could’ve been doing that?”

He can hear the way her heartbeat begins to steady out in her chest, and he can’t help but still feel grateful.

“Well, now we can” he says, “Now we don’t ever have to stop”

“That’s not entirely true” she pipes up, and for some reason it scares him to his core, until he looks up at her and she’s smiling down at him, “I don’t know about you but I’ll probably need something to eat before we go again”

“What do you feel like, I’ll get you anything if it means I get to do that again”

Once he’s pulled out of her and helped her clean up he orders the food. Part of him never wants to shower again, he wants the smell of sex and Y/N to linger on his skin for as long as possible. But the part of him that doesn’t like germs wins out. It helps that a beautiful woman is in the shower at the same time though, insisting that it will help pass the time before the food arrives.

And she was right. The food arrived only moments after he pulled on his pajamas. So they settled on opposite ends of the couch to eat it, their legs tangled together in the centre of the cushions as the TV played softly in the background.

The main thing that Spencer noticed about the whole thing was how remarkably normal it all felt. He wasn’t a changed man, and she didn’t seem very different either. Their friendship still felt very much intact which had always been his biggest worry when it came to admitting his feelings in the first place. The threat that it might implode entirely if he uttered the wrong words. But here they sat, like they had done on so many nights before, silently enjoying each others company. The thought made his heart swell so completely that he felt like he could barely keep it contained, all while he watched her do something as mundane as eating Chinese food in her pajamas.

— — —

Let me know what you thought about this chapter here <3

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** UPDATE **

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Spencer Reid Based Instagram Prompt

Requested by: anon

Request: Spencer Reid & y/n Instagram about fall

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram Autumn in Quantico 🍁

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itsdrspencerreid My favorite! Pumpkin patch date when I land. *kissy face*

yourinstagram Sounds perfect, but do you mean “😘”?

itsdrspencerreid Yes

babygirlpen This is so aesthetically pleasing 🤓

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I am loving all these new MGG content!!!!!!