#matthew gray gubler

[cameronsprincess]

not too much on my man 😩

Criminal Minds 3.07 'Identity'

[siriuslylantsov]

be my valentine

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which, spencer asks you out after a hearty but incomplete info dump on the history of valentines day.

tags: fluff! idiots inlove, gn!reader, reader is briefly described as shorter than spencer, teasing!spencer, grumpy!reader, penelope is an angel and i love her so much, reader shitting on valentines day and raising some very valid points.

a/n: based on this request, second fic for the event!! i know its still four days till valentines day but! if i didnt get this done now it would've been late. i rewrote this THREE times... but i rlly like how this version came out! happy reading :)

wc: 2.1k

it's your lunch break and you’re glaring at yet another sappy couple that walks by you. grumbling, you take another bite of your blueberry muffin. spencer laughs from his seat in front of you, amused by how your lip curls into an irritated pout. the two of you had walked to a cafe, a brief reprieve away from the frenzied police department you were stationed at for this week's case. 

“motherfuckers,” you seethe, still chewing your food. “i hate valentine's day.”

he laughs again, his tone sarcastic, “really, i never would’ve guessed.”

your glare shifts to him as you cross your arms. his grin is still there, annoyingly persistent, you hate that it doesn't affect him as much as it should. if you told him this, he would’ve told you that it didn't pack much of a punch. 

you roll your eyes and continue with a heavy scoff, “it's just another fake holiday, you know. like mother's day. created by greeting card companies trying to commercialise a day that shouldn't even exist honestly. every day should be dedicated to showing your loved ones how much you care, not just 24 hours in the middle of february.”

he accepts your cynicism with a smirk, completely accustomed to it. he knows you don’t mean it, not entirely, you just like to rant. “you know valentines day actually goes back about 2000 years. i’m sure greeting card companies weren't around back then,” he corrects, biting his lip in suppression.

your eyes narrow into slits, feeling the faint shift in the air of an incoming info dump. you ignore the way you want to hear what he has to say and take a sip of your coffee instead. you stall to torture him a bit, it's funny how he squirms.

“really,” you drag out, stroking your chin in exaggerated contemplation. you stare at him knowingly, he wants to continue but he's waiting for you to give him the green light. you laugh quietly, mood already improved, “go on.”

spencer visibly brightens, sitting up straighter and hands springing into action. “well, valentine's day has a really fascinating and somewhat convoluted history,” he starts, almost giddily. “the earliest accepted theory can be traced back to the roman festival of lupercalia, which was celebrated from february 13th to 15th. it was a fertility festival dedicated to faunus, the roman god of agriculture, and it included a ritual where men would sacrifice a goat and a dog, then use strips of the goat’s hide to whip women-”

“wait, they used goat skin to whip women?” you interject, eyes widening incredulously.

“yes! they willingly lined up for it too, believing it would make them more fertile,” he explains, far too animated considering the context, but it's okay. you like his enthusiasm. 

you grimace, “weird.”

“right. however, the day of love that we now recognise was brought by st. valentine, though which valentine is unclear—there were at least three martyred saints by that name. the most famous story involves a priest in third-century rome who defied emperor claudius ii's orders by secretly performing marriages for young soldiers,” he pauses to take a breath. you use it to bring your coffee back up to your lips, hiding your smile.

“claudius believed single men made better warriors, so he banned them from marrying,” he clarifies to which you nod. “when valentine was caught, he was executed on february 14th, which is why he’s the namesake of the holiday. some versions of the story even say that he sent a letter to his jailer's daughter signed ‘from your valentine’ which could be the origin of the modern tradition.”

“huh,” you pick your lip in thought, spencer hides the way his eyes dart down to them as you do it. “but that’s still an execution, how did it-”

the shrill tone of your ringtone interrupts you. “mhm, okay,” you respond when you pick up the phone. “we’ll be right there.” 

spencer stares at you expectantly, reaching over to grab your bag. he secures it over his shoulder and stands up. 

“it was jj,” you explain, stuffing the last bits of muffin into your mouth. “wi’ness ‘howed up.”

the food-muffled words make him chuckle and hold out a hand for you to get up. you let him pull you up with a dramatic huff, still holding his hand as you dust crumbs from your lap. you realise it a little too late and let go with a start, frown returning when you realise he isn’t going to let you carry your bag.

the walk back only took about five minutes before but this time's slower pace makes it a longer ordeal. comfortable silence brackets the two of you until it doesn’t when spencer speaks up.

“so, there's actually a lot more to the history of valentine's day. for instance, how the day became one of romance instead of, as you said, one that marked a martyrdom. we could, i don't know, discuss this properly over dinner. or drinks? or ice cream, i know that you like ice cream-”

filler words... he’s nervous. amid his rambling, he doesn't realise that you’ve stopped in your tracks. 

“-we can do whatever you want, i don't mind.” when he looks beside him and doesn't find you, he turns around. he can scarcely read the expression on your face, he usually can. this causes a little bout of concern to bubble up, “what is it?”

“are you asking me out?” your question is immediate, blunt, as a confused crease forms between your eyebrows.

well shit, he was. his lips part as he processes what he just said, he looks a little like a deer in headlights the way he stares back at you. was that too much? are you mad? did you want him to ask you out? what if you say no? he should say something. what if he messes everything up? he can’t-

“spencer,” his name rings out softly, pulling him from his spiral. 

his eyes snap to yours, searching, desperate to read between the lines, to piece together what you’re thinking like he always does—except this time, he can’t. he squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, “yes.”

he swallows hard and adds, “on a date.”

“i got that,” you murmur, stepping closer to him, and closing the distance that he unintentionally left.

his head dips, voice small. “i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

your head tilts slightly, studying him. “you didn’t.”

the reassurance eases him a little but not enough as the anxiety claws at him while he waits for your answer. your phone sounds again from your pocket, this time a text from morgan. you quickly type out a response–got lost, be there in 2. it's a pathetic excuse, if you focused, the station was in your direct eye line. but you needed to say something. 

“okay.”

he can't help the sign of relief that slips out of him, you giggle at the sound. when he looks at you again, he's unmeasurably happy to see your poorly concealed smile, breaking out in his own matching one. 

“yeah?” he asks sheepishly.

you nod, chewing your bottom lip, “yeah.”

your eyes squint at the corners, a side effect of the same grin that those sappy couples had been sporting, the same one that you’d been complaining about a little while ago. it makes you want to kick yourself, so you do the next best thing. you take hold of spencer's hand and drag yourself back to the pd. spencer shuffles somewhat behind you, trying to keep up with your stride. it doesn't take him long with those long legs of his.

his thumb strokes your knuckles gently–deliberately, you feel–but he pretends it's an unconscious action with the way his eyes are trained ahead. it makes you roll your eyes. when you near, you reluctantly let go of each other, the moment being the last time the two of you are alone for the rest of the day.

-

the team ends up solving the case a few hours later, taking the jet home where a valentines day baking spread is set up in the briefing room. all set up by the resident tech savvy. penelope tells you later that it took a whole week of convincing on her part, insisting that it would be quick and she’d clean up, and that everyone would get home to their own valentine's day plans in no time. 

there are a few heart-shaped helium balloons floating in the corners, and pink streamers in easy to reach places. the room is drastically more inviting, maybe the tones of fuschia and bubblegum have something to do with that. a cake and a bowl of suspiciously dyed punch reside on the table, along with pink plates and cups.

“penelope,” you gasp when you see them.

perfectly curated baskets of chocolate and cookies and associated items for everyone. you pick up the one with your name on it and inside you find: a candle, your favourite candy tied together with a little bow and a letter signed ‘happy valentines day, sweetheart. love, penny xx’. 

oh my god, you could kiss her. 

“it's like christmas,” emily muses from the other end of the table. you hear jj mutter something in agreement. you peek over at spencer, it's probably the hundredth time that you've snuck a glance his way. his eyes were already on you every other time, only now they were accompanied by a pair of red heart-shaped glasses, the clear plastic lenses offering a perfect view of his hazel orbs. the picture makes you laugh to yourself, you can barely hear it echoing from his end. 

-

about 30 minutes later, only the stragglers are left. in better words, the single people. the individuals with partners having rushed off to their own respective plans. you're making small talk with another girl who worked around the office when you feel a light hand on your shoulder, spencer nodding his head toward the elevator to signal your leave. you politely wish her goodbye and walk out with him. 

“cute glasses,” you tease, bumping his shoulder with yours, though the height difference makes it so you're nudging his upper arm. 

“yeah? i might get the lenses medicated, switch them out for my regular ones,” he jokes, his elbow nudging yours gently as he pushes the bridge of the glasses up the slope of his nose instinctively. 

“good idea,” you nod.

“you think?”

“mhm.” 

once again, he beats you to your bag, swiping it from your chair and carrying it along with his own. you meekly toy with the hem of your shirt as the two of you walk to the elevator. 

“so, bummer that neither of us have plans today. it’s so early,” you say, being blatantly obvious with what you're suggesting.

spencer only offers you an indifferent “yeah, bummer” in response, walking in when the doors slide open. when you look at him though, he's anything but indifferent, the corner of his lip pulling up in a crooked smile, irritatingly smug. you don't know where he gets off on being so at ease but the expression on his face makes you scowl as you follow him in. 

he is silent the whole ride down. you become increasingly annoyed, only faltering slightly when his hand reaches down to hold yours. his fingers thread between yours and you not-so subtly curl yours over his, ignoring the way he looks down at you. 

you try not to smile at the domestic picture of the two of you walking out hand in hand. thankfully the basement is empty. he pauses between your cars and mutters a quick “see you monday” before loosening his fingers and turning to walk away.

“spencer,” you groan, almost a whine as you squeeze his hand before he can let go.

he responds immediately, without missing a beat, “yes, angel.”

fuck.

you want to melt but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “would you like to do something tonight?” you grit out begrudgingly.

“i would love to,” he agrees, pulling you closer with your hand. your gaze darts to the two bag straps on his shoulder and you realise he had no intention of letting you go just like that. so you shove him, a little hard that he stumbles a bit. he huffs a laugh and you shake your head dismissively. 

he slowly, tentatively, dips down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the contact. 

“how does thai food sound?” he asks, that same bashfulness creeping into his voice that you love so dearly. 

“sounds perfect.”

you share another sweet smile that would probably make you gag from an outside perspective but now it just makes you feel dizzy. he leads you back to his car, muttering something about how he’ll pick yours up tomorrow morning. you want to argue with him but that same dizzy feeling stops you.

you can't help the dreamy sigh that slips out when he connects your hands again over the centre console. thank god for st. valentine, you think.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

divider from @saradika-graphics

[velvetwilde]

n/a: this is my first time trying to write something and actually posting it, I'm nervous. 

Ps: english is not my first language so bear with me. 

cw- 1187

tw- explicit language

----------- • ୨ ✦ ୧‎ • -----------

Other ways

where spencer is mad at you for ruining one of his favorite books and doesn't want to fuck you.

I was begging him to fuck me. I thought it was silly to have to beg him to take pity on my sweet, needy pussy, I could display myself naked and wet before him and it just wouldn't affect him in the slightest. It was a little humiliating, although I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me hornier. 

He was upset with me, maybe I deserved to be ignored, but come on, it was just a stupid book, I told him I'd buy him another one. He couldn't overdo it and punish me by not fucking me, I needed it.

''You know you can always punish me in other ways, Spencer,'' I whispered in his ear from behind the couch, pressing my tits against his shoulder so he could feel my hard nipples through my shirt. I nearly moaned when I stood in front of him and saw his hard erection inside his pants.

It was unfair that he was still mad at me, he was already hard - my folds were wet, ready for him to fuck me hard, deep and fast. I squeezed my legs tightly, trying to relieve the heat and throbbing of my pussy with the friction, I was so wet I wanted to cry.

I could just push him down onto the couch and sit on top of him. I'd unbutton his pants, gently pull his cock out as I watched his pretty face contort as he tried not to moan from my touch, then I'd fuck myself with his cock, him feeling my tight walls squeezing him deliciously with each deep thrust.

''Spencer, please, I need you'' I begged him. If he asked me to get on my knees and beg him to fuck me I would do it.

 I would pray to God for Spencer to fuck me.

''You’re a little brat always in need of my cock, aren’t you? You can't wait until I stop being upset to ask me to fuck you?" he spat in annoyance. I could see behind his masquerade how he began to give in, how he stretched his legs trying to hide his erection from me, as if he knew that if I saw him give in it was done for him.

''I’ll be good, I’ll buy you a new book… please, there’s no need to keep me in abstinence for a ridiculous book. You know I didn't see you for a whole week'' I begged him, I carefully sat on his lap - I moaned when his hard cock rubbed my wet pussy against my pantie ''come on, you're already hard, I can feel you'' I told him, grinding my hips on his erection, I moaned feeling his hardness rubbing against my sticky pantie ''I need you.''

''You’re really wet'' he said brushing his fingers against my folds, I moaned sighing as his digits pressed hard against my sweet center. ''What am I going to do with you?'' he whispered looking into my eyes

''Stop making me beg for what's mine'' I ground my hips hard on him, I smiled wickedly when I saw him twitch

''You know, you're right- there are other ways to punish you.'' He looked deep into my eyes with a dominant look that I had never seen in him before.

I gasped in shock as I felt his strong hands grab me by the hips and press my face against the couch.

''You know, maybe it's not so bad to give in,'' I heard him say, standing up.

My heart was pounding against my ears, my hips were rocking back and forth, rubbing my pussy against the couch, it felt good. Spencer would finally end my torture and fuck me, I tried to lift my ass in the air but I never saw the strong spank coming that hit my left cheek.

''Oh God!," I moaned in pain, ''Spencer, what are you…'' Another spank, I moaned, but this time I found myself enjoying it.

Spencer noticed it, he leaned over me and said in a deep raspy voice, "You're enjoying it, like a needy little slut." I pressed my ass against his erection, "Walking around in nothing but a t-shirt and panties... begging for my cock, so sweet''

"Come on, I need you" I said breathless

 I heard him unbutton his pants, he grabbed me tightly by the waist and roughly and quickly pulled down my panties, and without any warning he thrusts his whole cock in, making me scream. Spencer didn't even give me time to react when with a powerful push, his tip smashed against my walls so hard that for a moment my vision get blurred.

''Fuck, you're still so tight'' he growled.

''Please…'' I knew he was smiling as he continued to thrust his cock between my folds with deep languid strokes, showing his ability to leave me speechless as I tried to remember what I was going to say.

He continued his assault on my pussy for several more thrusts, making me bite down hard on the sofa cushion. His balls slapped hard against my ass, I could hear the wetness of my fluids and his mixed with the slaps with each thrust.

Spencer stopped moaning and leaned down close to my face, he could hear me gasping for air. I saw him smile powerfully at my weakness. Without stopping fucking me, he turned me around, leaving me exposed to him, he put one of my legs on his shoulder, the new angle made me moan louder, full of pleasure. With the new sensation on my G-spot I began to feel my walls squeezing his cock, making him moan.

I loved watching him fuck me, his abs clenching beneath his shirt with every thrust, his head falling back, making me drool at the sight of his delicious neck. I tried to keep my eyes open, but the second I closed them I felt one of his huge hands wrapping around my neck, forcing me to keep looking at him. It didn't bother me at all.

''Keep looking at me or I'll stop. Do you understand?''

I kept my eyes locked on his, he didn't stop for a moment, in fact, he thrust into me harder, making me scream. After several thrusts against my sweet spot, I screamed his name, tearing my throat out as I felt my walls tighten around his cock; I was about to cum.

Spencer let out a sinful moan that only made me beg for more, just as I felt myself tense up ready to cum, I bit my arm to silence my loud slutty whimpers. 

I felt him tense up and cum hard inside me, I moaned loudly as I felt his cum filling me and dropping over my folds and onto my legs.

I was about to cum too when I felt him completely withdraw his cock from my sensitive and needy pussy, for a moment I thought he would change the position to make me cum harder, but again he surprised me by grabbing me by the neck.

''Yes, there are definitely other ways to punish you,'' he said with a sideways smile, trying not to laugh.

[asmodaya]

I, too, would like to be blessed by the Matthew Gray Gubler distribution system and have him on his knees before me

Manifesting as we speak!

[saebeans13]

MY SHAYLAAA

[softtdaisy]

injury prompt 16 and 22 for reid perhaps... :D Love your writing btw <3

make my heart beat again / spencer reid

summary. spencer was sad. spencer was miserable. he thought he could handle it until he couldn't anymore. he thought he could deal with it alone until he couldn't.

words count. 2 249

prompt. “Why won’t you let me help you?” “…because I don’t deserve it.” / “You deserve to be helped, I—who told you this?” from here

what to expect. very angsty, spencer is so sad i want to hug him, i chose the mentally injured more than physically, mention of murder very quickly

a/n. ok first thank you so much for requesting it sweetie!! and i'm sorry, i wish i posted it sooner but i started it again to make it shorter and...it's not shorter, but it's here and i hope you will love it (and now i can work on your other request) 🫶

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

You weren’t quite sure how everything started again with Spencer.

One day he was a memory of the past, one of your biggest regrets. The next time he was back in your place, like he always belonged there.

You went on a couple of dates a few years ago, and it would be a lie to say your heart didn’t fall for that boy. Sweet, gentle, the nicest man you’ve ever met. And so beautiful with his always so messy hair, his gorgeous brown eyes that always seemed to look at you like you were one of the seven wonders of the world, and that perfectly shaped mouth that you loved to kiss.

You were sure things could have worked out with Spencer if a) his work didn’t take him that much time—and more. b) You didn’t have other issues in your life you had to deal with before thinking about love.

So you ended your relationship, or whatever it was at that time, before it could be more serious. And you spent way too many nights missing Spencer Reid. 

The way he would start every date with a fact that could either last a minute or ten and how you could notice the change in his eyes when he noticed you were truly interested in what he was saying. How he was blushing at any physical contact you were initiating, even in bed after he made love to you. Or even how you never said you loved each other, yet the way his lips would stay longer on your shoulder when you were falling asleep was speaking for your feelings.

You never thought Spencer would miss you just as much.

But he spent months contemplating the idea of seeing you again and trying to convince you this could be good. That he could be good for you. But months turned into a year. And when he celebrated his whole single year on the other side of the country, Spencer read into it that maybe he had glorified love. In all its aspects.

And this conclusion haunted him for years.

To the point Spencer stopped meeting new people and was barely trying to stay in touch with those in his life. He wasn’t seeing his mom much; his colleagues noticed the distance he was building between them, and Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he saw his “friends.”

Because at some point, the fear of losing people turned into a feeling of not being good enough to people’s lives and made him a loner. A sad loner.

That was something you immediately noticed the first time you saw Spencer in years.

Your life has barely changed from your last date. Still the same job, but at a higher place. Still the same apartment, but with a different setting. Still the same person, but more mature.

It wasn’t hard for Spencer to find you. And if he spent a whole year contemplating going back to your place before putting that thought away, the day he truly needed it, it took him a minute to decide it was time.

You didn’t question his presence here when you opened the door. Maybe he should have. But when Spencer grabbed your face after you simply said his name with confusion, nothing seemed to matter. 

Not his hair longer than before, not him looking more shaped yet more fragile, not the circle under his eyes being way darker than the last time you saw him. Not that he was eagerly kissing you, something he never did.

You remember Spencer being gentle, taking his time to appreciate every second with you.

No, he was hungry, like each second could be the last with you. For him.

“What are you doing here, Spence?” you finally asked him. You were both lying on the rug in your living room. His eyes were locked on the roof, like he was disconnecting from reality. His arm around your back, holding you against him, was brushing your skin slowly, but he seemed to do that mindlessly. 

And Spencer didn’t turn his head to look at you when you, you couldn’t stop looking at him. “I needed that.” Not you. You put away the pain hearing that and tried to see the good in this, that you were the one he went to. 

But still, something was different with Spencer.

It would take you a few nights to realize he wasn’t blushing anymore when you touched him. Or that he didn’t seem to have a lot to talk about.

Actually, Spencer wasn’t talking much anymore. 

For weeks, Spencer would come to your place at night. Either after a day at the office or when he came back from a case. Usually, when it was the latter, he would even stay the following day to fully decompress from what happened.

You tried to question him once or twice. But Spencer always had the same answer: going down on you to keep you quiet with your question.

It was a win-win situation. 

He was giving you pleasure and making you think about something else.

He was concentrating on something else, and your moans were filling his head with other thoughts.

Until one night, the sex wasn’t enough to put his problem away.

You didn’t expect Spencer to come. Two days ago, he told you he had to leave for a case and it would probably last a week. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it gave you the time to think about him and where this was going.

Yet, your bell rang at 10 p.m. Let’s say that dating an FBI agent taught you to not open your door to anybody. You almost played dead and ignored it. But your gut told you to look at who it might be. 

You didn’t expect to see Spencer through your spyhole.

You certainly didn’t expect to see him cry on the other side of your door.

“Spencer, what’s going on?” you said, opening your door and immediately bringing him inside. The saddest part was that he let you do it. He didn’t stop you when you took him in your arms. Neither when you brought him to the sofa and sat him on it while you kneeled in front of him.

He was shaking; his face looked red from the tears and the scratching he did with his fingers, trying to take the pain away. But it didn’t work. And hurt him even more.

You grabbed one of his hands to take it away from his face. You tried to ease his joints with a soft caress. You even tried to make eye contact, but it was a lost cause with the way he was closing his eyes hardly, probably hurting himself like that. “Talk to me, Spence,” you whispered, putting your chin on his knee. “Open to me.”

You hated how he pinched his lips together before talking, like he was trying so hard to not break down. “I can’t,” he sobbed. He repeated that multiple times, sounding more angry with himself each time.

But the fact he wasn’t letting go of your hand made you believe that maybe a part of him, maybe just a very little one, wanted to have you. He still came to you tonight, right?

“Why won’t you let me help you?” 

This was a genuine question. One that grew over the last weeks. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night wondering which signs you might have missed when he was here. What did he try to hide from you with kisses and attention that you weren’t asking for? And if maybe you weren’t an accomplice of his troubles by accepting all his treats, knowing it was an excuse to keep everything from himself.

And during these moments, you imagined what Spencer might have answered. That he didn’t want his burden to impact your relationship, that he didn’t want to talk to you specifically. 

But you never considered what was coming as an answer.

“…because I don’t deserve it.” 

The world went silent. 

Except for your heart that just fell on the floor and broke into a million pieces.

Except for Spencer’s sorrow being louder than ever in your small living room.

It was obvious that Spencer wasn’t doing ok. But you couldn’t imagine how broken he really was.

You couldn’t force him to look at you and make him see he wasn’t alone at all. So you put your forehead against his, his sweaty hair sticking against your skin. Your arms wrapped against Spencer so you could hold him against him. You couldn’t believe that this grown-up man, in his thirty, could be a broken kid inside. You tried to hold back the tears.

You stayed like that for minutes; you don’t even know how long. This could last an hour or two if he needed to. You probably could have stayed all night if it meant calming Spencer down.

Little by little, you felt his shaking stop and even one of his hands land on your arm. The pressure of his fingers on your skin wasn’t harder, almost like he didn’t have any strength anymore. It was more like a delicate touch. One that reminded you of the old days, when Spencer was too shy to touch you.

Once you felt he was ready to hear this, maybe not listen yet but at least be able to understand what you were saying, you stopped hugging him so you could grab his face in your hands. “You deserve to be helped. I—who told you this?”

You met the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen at this moment. Couple with his sad smile. Oh, how you wished you could just kiss the pain away for once.

“I just…” he started, with a grazed, hoarse voice. “Every person in my life ends up sad or hurt or dead. I’m a problem. I’m a burden. I don’t deserve someone to take the time to help me, be there for me. I can’t risk someone, you, taking the time to make me feel better if it means losing you at some point. I can’t, I can’t do that again.” You heard the sob in his voice at the end. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Spencer gave you the look, one he strangely never gave to you but that you understood immediately, meaning that he still had a lot to say. And deep down, you were happy to shut it if it meant he was finally opening up.

“I was taking care of a kid these days. We knew he might be in danger, so I was supposed to make sure he would be fine while working the case.” Spencer took a moment to continue, but you could only focus on the tear running down his cheek. “He got killed. Because I couldn’t protect him. Everyone around me has something bad happening to them. Even in my job. How can I be such a bad person?” 

You started brushing away the tears with your thumb, but Spencer cuddled against your hand. There was something even sadder with this man feeling like he didn’t deserve to have someone yet still craving every attention he could get.

“You’re not a burden, Spencer,” you whispered, and he closed his eyes again. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to go through all these moments by yourself. I can’t imagine how hurt you must be from living such difficult times over and over again. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have someone by your side.”

He didn’t answer. You weren’t sure this was the best decision, but you sat on his knees, trying to be closer to him so you could make him feel less alone. 

You thought that if he didn’t want that, he would push you away. But the way Spencer's hands ended up on your back so quickly made you think that maybe he needed that too.

“I can’t and won’t force myself into your life, Spencer, never,” you said, brushing his hair away from his face. “But if you’re ready to try, I can be by your side and help you consider that you deserve to be a supporter. Not only by me but by all the people that love you.”

Again, your words working on him, Spencer opened his eyes slowly. This time, even if the sorrow was still present, there was the smallest and almost slightest light in them. “Because people love you, Spencer Reid.”

As an answer, the only one he could give you, Spencer brought you against him and hugged you as hard as he could. It wasn’t the tightest hug he ever gave, but it was the best he could do. And it was enough. Enough to know that you opened a door in his mind. 

You offered your bed to Spencer that night, but he insisted on you staying by your side. He refused to let you know it was due to the fear of the nightmares he had for months now. Nightmares that always had different stories but ended the same way: with him losing someone and being alone.

All he needed was you, and you were willing to give yourself entirely to help him get better.

You didn’t know if you imagined it, but you were sure that when he was falling asleep, holding you against him like an antistress comforter, Spencer thanked you.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

I fucking LOVE smut like this

It's so sweet, intimate, UGH IT'S SO CUTEEEEEE UR SO TALENTED

i think about you & nothin’ else ; spencer reid

synopsis: after a casual night out, you & spencer let your hearts & hands take control in more ways than one.

warnings: making out & heavy petting??, allusions to sex, fade to black smut, mentions of reader drinking alcohol & wearing makeup, softdom!spence & fem!reader, yearning, fluff, a few swears, spencer & reader just wanna get freaky in a cute way!!

note: this is so self indulgent, i couldn’t resist—can y’all tell i’m down bad for this man or what

minors dni with this post!

“ow, i knew i should’ve worn a different pair”

you groaned as you undid the laces of your doc marten heeled boots, revealing the black polka dotted socks spencer had gotten for you weeks ago when you pulled the bottoms of your jeans higher. spencer’s heart ached with happiness when he saw you wearing them, but he brushed it off, leaning down to help you when the right boot refused to come off.

“let me help” he murmured as he got down on one knee, his tongue poking out a little between his lips as his hands expertly pulled the boot off, adjusting the position of your sock.

as you leaned against the wall & peered down at spencer, you couldn’t help but get that sticky feeling brewing in your stomach, especially when his hand slipped up to caress your calf.

“thank you” you smiled when his eyes met yours, noticing a strand of hair curled in front of his eyes. it made him look like prince charming. “you look extra handsome like this…” you breathed, unable to hide the grin spreading on your face.

spencer squeezed your calf. “is that because i took off your shoe or because i’m on my knees?” he casually asked, smirking when he saw your slightly shocked reaction at his words. he’s not usually forward like that.

“hmmmm…” you dragged out, playing his game. “is ‘both’ an acceptable answer?”

licking his lips, spencer stood up & moved closer into your space, letting his hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing against the hem of the lace shirt you wore. “i’ll allow it just this once” he whispered, leaning down to give you the kiss you had begged him for in the taxi ride home.

slow & calculated, spencer’s lips moved against yours with purpose, thumbs pressing harder into your skin when you’d whine into his mouth. “you taste like that mojito you had” he whispered against your lips, diving back in for another kiss when your hands pawed against his chest, playing with the buttons of his white dress shirt.

you lightly laughed, moving to press kisses to his cheeks & jaw, feeling almost proud when you could see slight remnants of your lipstick marking his soft skin. “& you taste sweet” you said closer to his ear, causing spencer’s stomach to flip a thousand times, only making him lift a hand to your chin, pulling you back to his lips like a desperate man.

you weren’t sure how many minutes had passed by now, but you were content against the wall, arching into spencer’s chest with his hands anchoring your body to his own.

“couch?” he pulled away to ask, his hands sliding down to the plush of your thighs when you nodded eagerly, jumping up & wrapping your arms around his neck.

you both erupted into a fit of giggles when the back of his legs met the couch cushions abruptly, causing spencer to pull you down with him a little too fast, his head slightly knocking into your shoulder when his body fell back onto the cushions.

“shit—i’m sorry” he quickly apologized with a smile, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. but you didn’t retreat, only shaking your head as you pressed a quick kiss to his nose.

“it’s okay—just kiss me again” you smiled, tugging gently on his tie to pull him closer, as if you weren’t already perched on his lap with your legs staddling him.

so spencer kissed you again, eagerly falling back into the rhythm of what had been previously building, letting his hands run circles on your jean clad thighs as you settled onto him. your hands worked on undoing his tie to toss it onto the floor, like you’ve done so many times with your eyes closed, nudging your nose against his when he tugged on your bottom lip.

“is this okay?” you asked with a panting breath, fingers nimble as they rested in place at the top of his shirt, waiting for the go ahead to unbutton it.

“yeah, baby. go ahead” he answered, moving to kiss your jaw & neck as your fingers unbuttoned each button, one by one.

“fuck” you murmured when spencer sucked on that one spot you liked, involuntarily causing your hips to shift in his lap.

he hummed gratefully like he planned it, proud of your reaction. “you like that, hmm?” he asked teasingly, voice all low & sultry with yearning.

“gonna let me make a few marks?”.

you nodded your head & let your hips move against his again, your hands raking up & down his chest once all the buttons were freed. you swore you could feel every muscle, every rib & dent in chest, sending a tingling feeling across spencer’s skin. “yes, please”.

spencer hummed into your neck at your politeness, pressing his lips down closer to your collarbone before creating a love bite. he was smart enough to do it in places where they’d hide under your clothes so others couldn’t see, keeping them a little secret shared between the two of you.

scraping your nails across his chest, one hand moved up to his hair, tugging in the soft brown locks appreciatively at the sensations he was sending through your skin. you felt like you were on fire in the best of ways. so you continued building the friction between you two, smiling devilishly when his hands cupped your tits, thumbs massaging your nipples through the lacey fabric until they peaked.

“wanna make you feel good” you panted into his ear, earning a suppressed moan from him in return, your name sounding somehow sweeter when it escaped his mouth.

“you always do, sweetheart” he assured as he pulled back to look at you, the way you arched yourself closer to his touch. spencer could see your smudged eyeliner clearer now, & he liked it.

he liked—no, loved—everything about you. especially when you sat on top of him like this; messy hair, smudged makeup, the soft pinch of your eyebrows when he did something you liked... it made him feel eternally lucky.

“spence” you said, bringing him out of the haze he fell into when he processed your thumb brushing against his bottom lip.

“i’m here” he responded with vigour, taking ahold of your wrist so he could press a kiss into the heel of your hand. “i just can’t get over how beautiful you look right now—it’s driving me insane” he explained, desperation & love present in his tone.

it made you melt, brain going fuzzy with the need to go further than you both have gone before.

“i could say the same about you—can’t believe that you’re all mine” you bit your lip & squeezed his bare shoulders, eyes scanning his messy hair & twinkling eyes, all the way down to his toned chest, how his happy trial peeked out below his navel.

spencer hoped his neck wasn’t turning pink under your gaze.

“god, i’m so lucky” he pulled your lips to his for the millionth time, but neither of you were tired of it.

“you could get even more lucky tonight if you want to…” you proposed, pulling away & batting your eyelashes in a way that drives him wild.

you know he knows what you’re implying by the way his hands slip to your ass, squeezing the fat there, wishing your jeans were already off.

“oh yeah? what do you have in mind?”.

ugh. what a tease.

you took a deep breath, sitting up before pulling his hands to rest in front of you, nudging his fingers to brush against the button of your jeans. “take them off & find out” you said, more so commanded with a nervous breath, & spencer was more than happy to comply.

letting your fingers play with his hair again, spencer’s fingers popped your button & slowly undid the zipper of your jeans, his eyes not leaving yours. when the zipper stopped, one of his hands moved to your hip, pushing your shirt higher on your stomach, massaging your skin.

“look down, baby. you missed it”.

your words caused spencer’s eyes to dart to the opening of your jeans, his sight locking onto the small piece of red fabric with white stitching that read “lucky you” in cursive lettering. he let a surprised scoff escape his lips, only feeling more turned on. his eyes also landed on the lacy black pair of underwear you were wearing.

spencer was about to lose it.

“lucky me, indeed”.

[veilofsam]

How is this the first time in my whole life of loving this man, to see him in shorts?

[emilys-house]

Spencer Reid in every episode of Criminal Minds:

Season 2, Episode 1, ‘The Fisher King: Part 2’

Masterlist ✰

[veilofsam]

I NEED IN 4K OMG 😳

i present to you: the most boyfriend picture of mgg i've ever seen. it's so spencer coded

[matthewsgreybubbles]

[deeclau]

WHATEVER THE SONG SAYS 😋

[milla984]

MGG as Spencer Reid Criminal Minds S02E12

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover @cynbx @reidsbookclub @spookyspemilyreid

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

»— Masterlists links in bio —«

[shutupandwatchsmosh]

frothing at the mouth i NEED him

[rhineztonepearlz]

Test answers

Professor! Aaron Hotchner x Student! F Reader SMUT

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20, Aaron is 35), choking, spanking, over the desk, hand over mouth, professor x student, p in v, teasing, edging, seducing, NO Y/N, pet name: darling, baby, mentions of past intercourse (when reader was of age, dont mind 'intercourse' i didnt know what to say dafuq), cunnilingus, blowjob, hand job (sort of?)

Reader has been out partying all night, instead of studying for her test. She gets an F on her test, so she decides to go talk to her hot professor about it. She had done it in the past, and he gave in. But this time, he won't do it without putting up a fight.

The bell rang, and the students pack up. All except for me. I wait until everyone is out of the classroom before I grab my test, and I walk over to his desk. He looks up at me, his usual stoic expression still on his face. I hand him my paper. "What's this?" I ask him.

"Your test." He answers coldly. I scoff, putting my hands on my hips and sitting on my left butt. "It says I got an F! Why is that?" He gives me a 'are you serious' look, and answers. "Because you got 3 out of 20 questions right. Next time maybe study, and then you'll actually pass."

"I did study! C'mon, just pass me. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Just like last year." I say, leaning in close to him over the desk. He clears his throat, keeping his stoic expression plastered on his face. "Last year was a mistake. I shouldn't have passed you just because of what we did. I was fresh out of a divorce, and I was pent up and lonely."

I frown, but I'm not ready to give up just yet. I smirk, walking behind the desk, unbuttoning the top of my shirt, showing off my cleavage. "Oh come on, don't be like that. Please? I promise I won't tell anyone."

"That's what you said last year. Yes, you didn't tell anyone, but I also said that it would never happen again. So it's never happening again. Like I said, it was a mistake. It was unprofessional of me. I could've lost my job." He says coldly once again.

"I could've lost my scholarship. Which is why I made sure nobody knew. And I'll make sure of that again, if you just let me. Remember how my lips felt on you?" I say, slowly unbuttoning the rest of my top.

He takes a sharp breath, and he sighs. "Yes- God yes I remember. And button your top back up. Anyone could walk past and see!"

"I'm facing away from the door! Nobody will see! Come onnn. Don't be such a party pooper. Remember how I felt on you? Remember when you had my nipples in your mouth? Mmm. Pretty please?" I say, feigning innocence. I grab his hand and put it on my right breast.

"I do remember, I remember everything. God. Go lock the door. Now." He says in his hot voice. I smile and I go over to the door, locking it and closing the blinds. I walk closer to him, unbuttoning my shirt fully and taking it off. He runs his hands up and down my waist and his, kissing my collarbone. I laugh softly, running my hands through his hair. I look at him and kiss him, and he returns it.

He starts to undo his belt, taking it off. I unzip and unbutton his pants, reaching my hand into his boxers. My hand finds his already hard cock. I smirk and take it out of his pants, stroking it once or twice. He groans and sits down in his chair and I kneel in front of him. I kiss the tip, before licking it. He groans again, gripping the arms of the chair tightly until his knuckles turn white. I spit of it before stroking it again, and a bead of precum spills out. I laugh and lick it off, before taking his cock in my mouth. I stroke the inches that i can't fit in my mouth. I bob my head up and down it, and he lets out low moans, his hand making its way to my hair. He balls his fist, tangling his fingers in my hair, guiding me up and down his shaft. I moan on it, the vibrations making him shiver. He holds me there for a second, cumming in my mouth.

He holds his moan back, and pulls my head away. I laugh up at him, feigning innocence in my eyes. His eyes soften for a second before he pulls me up, pushing the paperwork off of his desk, causing them to fall on the floor. He makes my sit on the desk, spreading my legs wide with his hands. He peels my underwear off, and runs his finger over my slit. I moan, and he smirks. "So wet, huh, darling?" I moan once again at his pet name.

He rubs my clit, and i buck my hips. He takes his free hand, and holds me down by my stomach. He puts his face between my thighs, and licks at my clit as if he hadn't eaten in days. I cover my mouth, moaning. He pushes his tongue into me, eating me out. I throw my head back, moaning. His thumb rubs my clit, adding to my pleasure. He moves his thumb, moving his tongue to my clit and flicking it. I gaspo and arch my back, and I cum. He places his tongue under my entrance, eating the cum. I moan at the sight, and he flips me over.

He bends my over the desk and slaps my ass, making me yelp, but he quickly covers my mouth. "Don't be so loud, darling. You don't want anyone to hear, right?" He whispers in my ear. I shake my head, shivering. He smirks and places the tip of his thick cock at my entrance. "Ready, baby?" I quickly nod, and he plunges his girth into me. My eyes widen, and i arch my back, grabbing the edge of the desk.

He waits a few seconds to let me adjust, and then he starts pounding into me. I moan through his hand, not caring about if someone hears. He smacks my ass, before grabbing my neck. "Didn't I just tell you to be quiet? Huh? Answer me!" He says, slapping my ass a couple of times, pounding into me still.

"Y... Yes! Y- did! 'M sorry!" He smiles and slows down, taking his hand off my throat. He rubs the hand prints on my ass, soothing the sting. He goes slow, but still rough. I moan every time he thrusts into me. He reaches his hand under me, rubbing my clip as he picks up the pace. I choke back a moan, biting my lip. He presses kisses to my shoulder blade, whispering in my ear. "You take it so well, baby. you feel so good. Do I feel good, hm? This big cock thrusting into your tight pussy?"

I nod, and he smacks my ass, not as hard, but enough for it to sting. "Words, sweetheart." I moan, and I nod, answering. "Yeah! S... So good! Mmh!"

He takes another deep thrust, before I cum, squeezing him. He pulls out, cumming on my clit. We both moan in sync, before he helps me clean up, putting his belt and dressing himself back up. I dress myself up and well, fixing myself.

He opens a locked drawer, and gives me a sheet of paper. "Here, this has all of the answers. Make sure to get two or three answers wrong so its not so obvious. Return it to me by tomorrow so that I could put your grade in."