#so i wonder if reid is referring to him :) though it would be a little weird if it was considering he just says “a boy”

[frankiebirds]

[foxy-eva]

Full of Wonders

Summary: Dressing up as Catwoman for Halloween gives you the confidence to switch things up in the bedroom

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) nicknames, power dynamics, heavy kissing, nipple play, oral, use of strap-on (Emily receiving)

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air Writing Challenge!

Masterlist

“Damn Emily, I think you’re in trouble,” Luke teased when he saw you walking through the door to join the Halloween party Penelope was hosting. 

Emily’s eyes found you in the crowd and she couldn’t believe what she saw. You had dared to dress up as Catwoman – certainly a reference to Emily confessing how sexy she thought the actress was when you watched the movie a few weeks ago. 

Your outfit was flawless – a skin-tight black bodysuit, a full face of make-up with perfectly done eyeliner and a hairband with cat ears. It took Emily a second to realize you even brought a black leather whip as an accessory. 

“Wonder Woman,” you giggled once you saw Emily in her costume. “Nice seeing you here.” 

“I wonder who’s gonna win that fight tonight,” Tara quipped while scanning the both of you. 

Spencer chimed into the conversation, “Considering that Wonder Woman has superhuman powers, including extraordinary strength and speed and the ability to fly, I don’t think that Catwoman would stand a chance. Did you know that–”

Luke placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder to interrupt him from starting infodumping. “Reid, trust me when I say that’s not what she meant.”

You watched as an oblivious Spencer walked away with Luke to get some snacks before you turned to your girlfriend. 

“You look great,” Emily cooed before placing a brief kiss on your lips. “I knew that dressing up as superheroes was a good idea.”

“Are you surprised I chose Catwoman?” You teased as you swung your arm around her waist. 

“A little, yeah. It’s not like you to wear something so daring,” Emily confessed. 

“You’re right but seeing your face was worth it. Hulk would have been my second choice, by the way,” You joked. 

Emily took your hand to walk a few steps away from the crowd. When she was sure that nobody else was close enough to hear her, she leaned closer to your ear and whispered, “So, will you be a good kitten for me tonight?”

A smirk spread over your face. “You wish.”

“Huh,” Emily breathed. “I feel like this will be a very interesting night.” 

After leaving a featherlight kiss on Emily’s lips, you joined the rest of your friends to enjoy the party. Your girlfriend seemed especially affectionate tonight, holding you by your waist and kissing you whenever the others were busy talking to each other. 

It was unlike Emily to show so much physical affection in public. There was something in the way she looked at you, her eyes dark and filled with desire. It became obvious that your girlfriend wanted you and had a hard time keeping her composure. 

You wondered if it had something to do with seeing you in such a daring outfit. After Emily placed her lips on yours for the umpteenth time that night, you decided that you couldn’t wait any longer to find out. 

Even though the night was still young, you whispered into her ear, “I think it’s time to go home.”

The grin that spread over her face could only be described as mischievous. She nodded and grabbed your hand, wasting no time to lead you away from the party and towards her car. Before you could get inside, she shoved you against the side of the car to capture your lips with hers. 

This kiss was different from the ones before. There was no more holding back, no more need to act all demure in front of your friends. She didn’t waste any time to deepen the kiss, her tongue finding yours in an instant. Emily kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

You felt like you could get drunk just from tasting her lips. The urgency in her actions made your heart jump. She held you against the car, hindering you from moving away as she got lost in this kiss. When she let out a muffled moan there was no more denying how much Emily needed you. 

She pressed her hips against yours and you could feel the heat radiating from her body. A similar warmth had already begun spreading over your own skin, too. In that moment you wished that you weren’t in public. Your fingers twitched against her waist, becoming curious what a mess they would find if they dared dipping beneath her skirt. 

“Let’s go home,” you mumbled against her lips. “I want to be alone with you.” 

There was no more time to be wasted to get to your destination. You felt like your entire body was on fire as you waited patiently on the passenger seat to finally be alone with your girlfriend. The tension between the two of you only grew the longer the drive took. 

Once you finally stepped inside her apartment, it was as if something inside you snapped. Usually it was Emily taking the lead in your encounters but you decided you wanted to switch things up this time. When she kissed you, it was as if you two began fighting a battle of who had the upper hand. 

Emily smirked against your lips when she realized what you were doing. She moved with you as you attempted to push her against a wall, breathing out a quiet laugh when you began kissing her neck. 

“You’re cute when you think you’re in charge,” she chuckled. 

Instead of responding, you bit down on her pulse point and Emily hissed a curse. 

“Careful,” she warned you, a playful tone laced over her voice. 

You found her eyes once more and almost got lost in their darkness. “You’re the needy one tonight,” you teased her as you pressed your thigh between her legs. “There’s no denying that.” 

“I can’t help it when you look so sinful,” she groaned.

Your tone was soft and loving when you breathed, “Let me take care of you, Emily.”

And just like that she gave in. With a nod she signaled her approval to follow your lead. A rosy shade had spread over her cheeks, making it obvious how turned on she already was. Seeing Emily like that almost drove you insane. 

She always looked incredibly beautiful when you were with her. But the way she almost seemed desperate tonight was something entirely new to you. She would have never admitted it but you were certain that she wanted you to take the lead all along. And you were eager to give her what she desired. 

You led her into the bedroom and slowly began ridding her of her costume. Each piece of clothing fell to the floor, revealing her skin to you. When she stood completely bare in front of you, you took a moment to take in her beauty. 

Your eyes lingered on the curve of her breasts, noticing how her nipples had already hardened. Reaching out your hand, you gently brushed your fingertips over her chest, paying close attention to the way her skin broke out in goosebumps. 

Emily reached out her hand to take off your hair band, letting the cat ears fall to the floor. You had long abandoned your whip and heels at the door but your tight bodysuit was still in place. Her hands began brushing over the smooth fabric until they found a zipper to pull down. You moved with her until you were only left in your black lace underwear. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” Emily groaned before she found your lips in a hasty kiss. 

With a firm push against her shoulders, you had her lying on the bed in an instant. A playful smirk was written over her face when you crawled on top of her. “Good kitten,” she cooed right before kissing you again. 

You remembered that you were the one in charge tonight. So you quickly grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head, a gasp falling from her lips. She could have easily overpowered you but had no desire to do that. Emily seemed curious about what exactly you had in mind for her. 

Your lips brushed over her cheeks before leaving kisses along her neck, gently biting down on her sensitive skin. Moving further down, you took one nipple into your mouth while your hand found the other one, taking it between your fingers and playing with it until moans began falling from her lips.

Emily began rocking her hips against yours, desperate to find some friction. Descending further down, you kissed along her stomach, her sides, her hips before settling between her legs. You had seen her many times before but each time she opened her thighs for you, you were mesmerized by her beauty. 

It was as if you watched the prettiest flower go in full bloom, each pedal layered perfectly over the other. She was glistening, as if morning dew had kissed her folds, leaving her honeyed wetness for you to enjoy. You took your time as you tasted her folds, relishing her heady scent and imprinting her uniqueness onto your tongue. 

What you were doing was more teasing than actually pleasuring her and you were both aware of that. It only aroused her more. When she began squirming underneath you, you stopped what you were doing and sat up between her legs. Emily whined in protest, a confused look on her face when she found your eyes. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” you purred as you leaned over her. 

She only sighed in response and it became obvious that she was starting to get impatient with you. You had no intention of teasing her any further, there was just something specific you had in mind. Something you had only done with reversed roles before. 

When you found her ear, you whispered, “I want to fuck you.” 

Emily’s eyes widened at your words. She understood what you meant but needed a second to process. Then, without a second thought, she groaned, “Do it.” 

Her words took you by surprise. A part of you thought that she would decline your offer and instead flip you over to take back control. You had not expected for her to submit to you to the fullest. 

Emily watched as you sat up to reach for the nightstand, opening the drawer to take out the strap. Your fingers shook with excitement as you slipped into the harness, adjusting the straps until it sat securely over your underwear. It was then that you noticed how wet you were, the soaked lace of your panties sticking onto your skin. 

Your girlfriend reached for the bottle of lube and squeezed a fair amount of it into her palm. She grabbed your strap to coat it with the liquid. The sight of her hand caressing this new extension of your body was captivating. For a second you thought about asking her to take it into her mouth but decided against it. That would have been a sight your poor heart probably couldn’t handle. Your heart was already beating uncomfortably fast inside your chest. 

It was as if Emily sensed your nervousness when she looked at you with a reassuring expression. 

“You look amazing,” she praised you. “I can’t wait to feel your cock inside me.” 

“Then lay back and relax,” you whispered as you positioned yourself between her legs. 

Before she did as you told her, she reached for the clasp of your bra to undo it. “Better,” she snickered as she tossed the piece of clothing aside and leaned back against the pillows. “Now I can enjoy the show.” 

Holding the strap at the base, you slowly let it glide through her slick folds. When you brushed over her bundle of nerves, she bucked her hips against you. You repeated the motion a few more times before positioning the tip at her entrance. Before you began pushing into her, you looked at her one more time for reassurance. 

When she nodded at you, you leaned over her and began pressing your hips against hers, carefully sliding into her body. You watched as the strap disappeared inside her one inch at a time, slowly stretching her open. Moans escaped Emily’s throat at the intrusion and she hooked her legs around your hip to bring you even closer. 

Your lips found hers in a desperate kiss once you were fully inside her. With your bodies connected like that and your tongues meeting one another, it became impossible to tell where your body ended and hers began. Then, you started tentatively rocking your hips to thrust into her but you found some resistance from her body. 

“Everything okay?” You wanted to make sure. 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Feels good. Just take it slow.” 

You paid close attention to her reaction as you moved, so much so that it took you several moments to realize how sensitive your own cunt felt with all the pressure of the strap against it. As you rocked your hips against her, the friction you created almost became addictive.

You hadn’t expected to find it so physically pleasurable to fuck your girlfriend like that. She had been in that position many times before and you had never noticed it having such an intense effect on her. 

But you could not deny the fact that the longer you thrusted into her, the close you got to your own breaking point. Emily noticed that, too. When you moaned against her lips, you felt her smiling into the kiss. 

She reached out her hands to find your breasts, gently kneading them before focussing on your nipples. The added stimulation only brought you further to your downfall. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. You really tried to focus on her pleasure, really wanted her to fall apart this way but you hadn’t expected how good it would make you feel. 

Your motions became erratic when your body started quivering. “Fuck, Emily… I–,” you whimpered as you felt your orgasm approaching. 

“Do it,” she sighed as she pinched your nipples. “Come for me, kitten.” 

That was what pushed you over the edge. You ground your hips against hers, your strap buried deep inside her as you came undone. When you collapsed inside her arms, you realized that no matter how hard you tried, Emily would always be the one in charge. And you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

As you caught your breath, your girlfriend kissed your cheek. “My poor baby,” she purred. “So sensitive you can’t even fuck me without getting yourself off, hm?” 

“I can’t help it,” you admitted. “You make me feel so good.” 

Emily pushed on your shoulders until you were hovering over her again. Then, before you even realized what she was doing, she turned the two of you over with one swift motion. It took you a moment to realize you were the one lying on your back now. 

“You make me feel good, too,” she moaned as she ground her hips against you. 

The sight of her straddling your strap made you dizzy. Your hands flew to her hips, moving with her as she rocked back and forth on top of you. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room as she brought herself to closer to euphoria. One of your hands moved to where your bodies were joined to let your thumb draw circles around her most sensitive spot. 

The sudden stimulation made her motions falter and it took her a moment to get back her rhythm. Your name fell from her lips when she finally entered the sensation of pure bliss, her walls clenching around the strap as she rode out her high on top of you. When she collapsed into your embrace, you were ready to catch her and hold her tightly against your body. 

“That was fun,” she chuckled before kissing your cheek. “But I won.”

And she was right. 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @grumpyy-bearr @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @sapphicprentiss @lovelyy-moonlight @storiesofsvu @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @lover-of-books-and-tea

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A (not so) little secret

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

Summary: even though you and Spencer have kept yours private pretty well, one night the universe seems determined to let everyone know.

warnings: established relationship but still secret, a mention of sex, and some references. I think that's all

The sound of the phone ringing pulled you out of your sweet and recent dream and when you opened your eyes you needed a moment to get your bearings. You were on a soft bed, a thin sheet covering your half-naked body, and the room smelled of lavender emanating from a humidifier. When you moved a bit you collided with a warm lump and that was the piece to finish building the scene: you were at Spencer’s house. You opened your eyes and that's when you saw that it was the purple phone on the nightstand that was ringing, next to the alarm clock with bright letters that said 4:00 am.

You had ended up in the man's apartment after a long day at work with the promise of ordering food at home and resting for a while, but at some point the kissing on the couch escalated to ending up in bed; it wasn't something you complained about, of course. He always took care of making you feel so good and had a resistance that came to surprise you, so you enjoyed each other for a long time. You were a little sore (in a good way) and exhausted by the end, but the thought that you would be able to rest up late the next morning had comforted you greatly. You would have fallen asleep barely two hours before then, but since the noise didn't seem to disturb your boyfriend's sleep and you were closer to the device, you decided to reach out to pick up the call.

"Hello?" you sighed sleepily. You couldn't imagine who could want something at that hour, although the fear that it was a call from Bennington Sanitarium about Diana's health made you think it would be irresponsible not to answer.

"Reid?" asked the voice on the other end of the line and you recognized it immediately.

"Hotch?" you murmured, a little more lucid. As soon as the last name was out of your mouth, you realized how stupid you'd been to answer instead of waking Spencer up for him to answer. It was your boss, calling the landline of one of his agents, and it turns out that it was you who had answered.

“Y/L/N?” he spoke again, sounding confused. "Are you with Reid?"

You were silent for a second as panic washed over you, your brain working at full speed to think of what to say.

“Huh… yes. I didn’t feel very well and he said that I could stay here” you confessed. Technically it was the truth, although you preferred to spare yourself the intimate details. 

Even though it wasn't a crime to go out with unit mates, if it was a little… how can I put it? Immoral maybe? It could take away from your objectivity in cases and it was definitely a distraction at work, but when it came to Spencer Reid, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't help it.

You had already been together for a few months. You realized you had feelings for him after he offered to stay with you for some days in the hospital to care for the gunshot wound that grazed your shoulder during an unfortunate event. It was so nice to be under his care, he brought you delicious food all the time, every day he bought new flowers for the next vase and always made sure you were comfortable.

Probably the daily stress had clouded your vision a bit, but in an environment so far removed from all your work, it was when you realized how wonderful Spencer could be, and let's be honest, men like that don't grow on trees in droves. It didn't take long for you to buy him a drink, just to thank him for all he'd done for you, but then the dates became recurring. One night the two of you finally talked about what you wanted for your future and then decided to start something formal.

At first it was easy to hide it in the office, after all no one would have reason to suspect anything. Morgan was annoying sometimes, thinking that he was the only one who noticed how you looked at each other, but the others hardly noticed. The problem was when, over the months, the connection between you strengthened romantically and physically, coupled with the sweet nicknames with which you called Spencer in private that on more than one occasion almost slipped from your lips.

By this point you were enjoying being with him so much that you honestly didn't care what the team might think about the relationship, you thought hiding it was more of a habit than a necessity, but you didn't know if Spencer felt the same way. You hadn't really needed to talk to him about it, at least not until now.

“Okay, then tell him that something urgent came up. I need you both to come to the office as soon as possible because in a few hours we are flying to Boston."

"Okay, we'll be there"

"Fine"

The communication was cut off there and when you turned after hanging up the phone you noticed that Spencer had already woken up, probably by the sound of your voice having a chat. He looked so cute and sleepy that you couldn't help but caress his face with your palm to help him wake up.

"What's going on?"

“It was Hotch. They need us in the office”

"I figured," he grumbled, stretching a little to shake the numbness out of his body.

“He realized that I am here. I'm sorry"

"It's okay, love. Don't worry about it,” he said, totally calm, as he stood up and gave you an absent-minded kiss on the cheek. He got up and started rummaging through the closet for something decent to wear over the black boxer shorts he was wearing, while you rubbed your face with your open palms "How do you feel?"

"Tired" you laughed, unconsciously covering your torso with the sheet. You still didn't feel confident that he would see you naked for so long, even though you had already had sex on considerable occasions "So you're not angry?"

"Angry? Why should I be?"

"Because he knew I'm here" you answered softly and he stopped what he was doing to look at you. You knew it took Spencer a few minutes to fully wake up, though he seemed quite conscious as he knelt on the side of the mattress you were on so he could speak. "I mean… do you think we're going to get in trouble?"

"I don't think so" he replied, as one of his hands slid down your bare leg to rest on your knee "Does it bother you that he knows?"

"No, no. I'm just… I'm worried that he'll send us to different departments”

“Just because we're dating? He would never do that” Reid laughed, finding your panic a little cute “He would lose his best agent”

"Are you referring to you or are you referring to me?"

"Applies to both" he replied quickly. You thought he would be more reluctant about the matter, so you practically took a load off your mind seeing him so calm by your suggestion “Actually I've been thinking about it a lot lately. Garcia and Kevin had no problems with their relationship so… why would it be any different with us?

"Because they weren’t in the same unit"

"So you don't want to try it?" he asked, sounding a bit dejected. Apparently it was a subject on which he had previously reflected.

“Of course I do, Spence. If you want to do it, then so do I" you assured him. He looked at you with some admiration and smiled happily, feeling satisfied with the answer “So it's a fact? Shall we just say it, just like that?” you muttered nervously.

Spencer took a few seconds and you could almost see the gears of his brain working behind his front.

“First we can talk to Hotch and explain the situation. Then there will be an opportunity to tell the others."

"Good"

“But we can discuss that another time, okay? for now just… get dressed. Not that I'm jealous, but I wouldn't want to see you walking around in nothing but your panties”

"Perhaps you would like it, what you would not like is for others to see me" you argued, managing to get a giggle out of him before he got up to continue with what he was doing. 

It didn't take long for you guys to get ready, and considering it was early morning, Spencer rummaged through his closet for a hoodie he could fit you into, even though you'd refused. You didn't even bother to dress up, you just tied up a messy ponytail and walked out of the place like that.

Normally you arrived at the office at different times, almost always the fifteen minutes between each subway schedule, but you thought that right now that was the least important thing. Although he didn't like to drive, he let you sit in the passenger seat of the light blue car that he only used in very necessary cases.

During the journey you got distracted looking at the city lights and at some point these lulled you so much that you ended up asleep against the seat. Spencer made sure to drive more carefully and avoid potholes, until he parked outside the FBI building. When he stopped and looked at you so peacefully, he wished he could just leave you like this, even though he knew everyone was probably already waiting for you inside.

Despite the urgency that the situation required he took a moment to look at you, feeling his chest swell with love. A part of him was guiltily glad you'd answered that call, because for the past week he'd wanted to talk to you about stopping keeping things secret and that had given him the perfect excuse. He wanted to have more moments like this with you, not just limit himself to giving you his love imprisoned by the four walls of an apartment.

“Hey,” he called to you in a small voice, when he finally snapped out of his trance, leaning down to stroke your arm hoping you'd react “We're here, pretty. Wake up"

You let out a groan, clearly not wanting to leave, and when you opened your eyes you felt your eyelids completely heavy. By way of persuading you, Spencer reached up to kiss your lips, in a prolonged and loving way that helped you remove all traces of sleepiness.

Inside the car you were oblivious to anything, without knowing that a person had been watching everything with their mouths open. Emily Prentiss practically ran to get to the office before you did and once she entered she desperately searched for the rest of her coworkers, finding Morgan, Garcia, and JJ talking to each other.

“Prentiss. where in such a hurry?

"You won't believe what I just saw," she said, without even saying hello, and the three of them stopped talking to pay attention to her, after all the tone warned them of a sure gossip "Reid was kissing a girl in his car"

“Spencer?” Garcia said, sounding incredulous but also excited.

"Yeah! I was getting out of my car when I saw him park with a girl in the passenger seat and then he leaned over to kiss her. Do you think she’s his girlfriend?

“Maybe we interrupted him in the middle of an adventure. Poor boy,” Morgan laughed, feeling sorry for his younger friend.

“I didn't get a good look at her face, but she was wearing a hoodie like… grey? I think so, it was grey."

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the elevator opening and the three of them turned to see who it was. There was Hotch, of course, Rossi next to him, and behind both of you were Spencer and you.

"Thank you all for coming. Let's go to the meeting room” your boss announced, not stopping his walk and waiting for the rest of you to follow. Everyone ignored Rossi's greeting as Emily's eyes widened and she jerked her head in your direction, as if trying to make out some feature. JJ nearly choked on her own saliva when she noticed your gray hoodie, while Penelope and Derek shared a knowing look at the obviousness of it all.

You two didn't even notice what the rest were up to, so before long the whole team was already seated at the round table. It was a custom not to sit next to Reid, partly so you wouldn't be tempted to touch him, but also so you could look at him all the time.

When JJ started giving you the details of the case you were fighting to keep your eyes open, feeling disgusted and worried about the serial killer you had to profile this time, but also completely exhausted. Spencer's hoodie felt so comfortable that you hugged yourself hoping for some comfort, and then you noticed that he was looking at you. You smiled at him from where you were, wishing you could sit on his lap to listen to the rest of the meeting, while he circled his index finger on the left side of his chest, where his heart was. It was a sign he had adopted to let you know you were there. Derek, who was next to him, watched the exchange out of the corner of his eye and smiled to himself. Several times he had noticed his coworker doing that but until now he could understand why.

“We're leaving for Boston in an hour, just pack your bags and come back here. We'll better build the profile on the jet,” Hotch announced, and most nodded as he got up from their seats. Except for you, who leaned your cheek against the table.

"It's honestly not how I planned to spend my Saturday morning," Penelope complained, pouting in disappointment.

"Well, neither do I, but this isn't paperwork that can wait for Monday”

"Are you alright, lover boy?" Morgan asked now, paying attention to Reid's hunched posture. "You look like you're going to pass out at any moment”

"We didn't sleep well"

"We?" Prentiss pointed out accusingly. Spencer frowned at her, not noticing his mistake, but when he finally did, nerves invaded him.

"I meant me. I didn’t sleep well. I had… some things to do”

Yes, things.

"Huh, I see," she scoffed, not believing him one bit. That he had spoken in the plural and you were in the same condition only gave the team the confirmation they needed.

You had spent the night together.

"See you in a bit," Rossi said goodbye and the rest soon left through the same door as him. Only when Spencer made sure no one around did he come up to you.

"How come you can fall asleep anywhere?"

“It's my superpower. You're a genius, I have this” you teased, hearing your boyfriend giggle before taking a seat next to you. Once he was there, he started stroking your back gently, as if he wanted to comfort you.

"I take you home?"

"If there is no other option" you sighed, getting up from your comfortable position only to lean against his chest in a hug. Spencer loved physical contact, so he didn't put up the slightest resistance. "Have you ever thought what it would be like for us if we had normal jobs?"

"What do you mean?"

"Outside the FBI"

"Do you want to quit?" he asked, feeling alarmed, but you shook your head against his chest.

"No, is not that. I love this unit. I only asked myself if it would be easier if we worked on something... I don't know, less demanding, that would allow us to have days off or that it wouldn't take us out of your apartment at 4 in the morning. Something safer” 

"If that were the case, we wouldn’t have met"

“Did you always want to be an FBI agent?” you asked, raising your head so you could look at him. Your eyes looked bright in the light from the room, something Spencer couldn't ignore.

"Not always. There was a time when I wanted to be a cowboy”

"A cowboy?" you laughed, but with no intention of mocking. Of all the occupations that was the one you had least imagined for a mini-Reid "Well, you know what they say, save a horse..."

You expected him to complete the sentence, but seeing him scowling because he clearly didn't understand your country reference was enough to make you laugh and ask him to just forget it.

"And you? Did you always want to be an agent?”

"No," you said immediately. You had thought about it many times “When I was little I wanted to be a vet”

“A cowboy and a vet. That doesn't sound so far-fetched, maybe one day I would have even called you to take care of one of my animals."

"And then I would have fallen in love with the gorgeous cowboy Mr. Spencer Reid" you smiled, looking affectionately into the pretty eyes of the aforementioned "Can you imagine?"

"Maybe we really were already destined"

You liked to believe so. You liked to think on a daily basis that as horrible as being a profiler could be, every decision in your life had been worth it just to get to know people like your coworkers. That the world wasn't so horrible if it had allowed you to have a boyfriend as wonderful as the man in front of you.

"You're the best I have, you know that?" you exclaimed without hesitation "The best" you repeated and Spencer pulled you back into a hug just to avoid the embarrassment of you seeing his slightly moist eyes. Your face was leaning comfortably against him and your ear enjoyed the soft beat of his myocardium “I like to hear your heart”

“Did you know that a study showed that two people's heartbeats can be synchronized when they are in love?”

When he told you this, your ear was pressed against his chest and your hand went up to your neck to press it on the pulse line, paying attention to the rhythm of both of you. You smiled widely when you saw that, as always, your boyfriend was correct.

“And if one day we part ways? Will we keep beating at the same time?”

“I don't know, but I don't plan on checking either,” he assured you. Spencer really did see a future with you, and you inevitably did the same.

Before you got up you made sure to kiss him nicely on the lips and you left the boardroom hand in hand, arguing over which of your departments you would go to first. You didn't count on the fact that JJ would still be at the entrance, that when you arrived she looked at your perfectly intertwined hands.

"Hi," you said nervously, both of you letting go as a reflex, "Why haven't you left yet?"

“I need to close the door. I have the keys” she smiled. It was obvious, but you had forgotten it because you were chatting.

"Huh, yeah. We are very sorry. See you in a while"

"Good trip," she said, with the most teasing smile she'd ever given you.

You two rushed out of there and when you got to the elevator you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"For God's sake, is today the day we have to expose ourselves to the whole world?" you exhaled, covering your face with both hands to hide your blush.

"At least no one has seen us kiss yet"

If Emily had been in that elevator, she would have laughed in Spencer's face.

[bippot]

Biological Warfare

Story Summary -> Spencer is a germaphobe. He detests the thought of someone sneezing in his general area. There is an exception, though. He seems to be able to handle his girlfriend's sick day without batting an eye.

Tags -> Caretaking Idiots in Love, Domestic Fluff, Sickfic, Spencer Reid Gets a Hug, Mutual Caretaking, Medicine

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Previous Chapter -> Magic Hands

Spencer Reid naturally has dark patches under his eyes, always had. For the last couple of months, though, the bags that usually accompanied that darkness weren't there any more. He'd been stressed and sleep deprived for most, if not all, of his life up to this point. And recently, he'd been taking care of himself a lot more.

Well, that's not entirely true. Y/N had been taking care of him, and she was doing a better job than he ever had. His girlfriend lavished him with so much love and care and affection that Reid found it hard to believe how happy he was. Life was much easier with Y/N by his side than it had ever been before.

It was weird, this happiness thing, and it was kind of like learning a new language. There was a new vocabulary he used, a new set of rules that he lived by, and he didn't refer to himself as a singular pronoun anymore, no, it was plural. His 'I' had turned into a 'we' now. It was odd but he liked it. A lot. Like, a lot a lot.

One of his favourite things was waking up. That might sound strange but, to Spencer, it was one of the most wonderful things in the universe because he was always woken up with the most giggly kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, and his jaw, or anywhere Y/N wanted to kiss him really. This was the best alarm clock he'd ever had.

He'd never been a morning person and continued not to be, yet Y/N's affection made him less grumpy when he first woke up. He was still grumpy, just a fraction less than before. And if they had enough time to lay in bed and simply snuggle for however long they had left before he had to go to work, his grumpiness would melt away pretty quickly.

So, when he woke up to the annoying ring of his actual alarm one morning, he was unbelievably cranky. His hand reached out to Y/N's side of the bed. She wasn't there. He didn't feel her body at all, and that was weird because Y/N never left their bed without waking him up - if she happened to be awake hours before him, she'd read a book or scroll through her phone until he began to stir - but she had gotten out of bed and was nowhere to be seen in their room.

Wiping his eyes, he got out of bed with a grumble and started the search for his girlfriend. She wasn't in the living room, nor the kitchen or bathroom, and he almost believed she'd started work down in the bakery until he saw that the door to the spare room was nudged open a little. Ever since they'd become a couple, his old room had become more like an office and occasional guest room since he found himself in Y/N's bed every night.

Why was the door open?

The door was soon opened wide to reveal Y/N surrounded by scrunched up tissues, her nose ruby red and the duvet creating a hood over her head as she watched a movie on her laptop. As soon as she noticed him in the doorway, she warned, "I'm sick, lovely. Stay over there."

Germs in general weren't Spencer's favourite thing in the world and Y/N knew that. His heart warmed at the fact she had gone out of her way, or out of their bed rather, to ensure her sudden increase of mucus didn't aggravate his germaphobia.

Yet, this only deepened his need to take care of her because she was so considerate towards him. He desired, no, he needed to do the same for her. If Y/N was in distress in any way, he wanted to help her. So, Spencer moved further into the room. He didn't go fully next to the bed - there was still a solid foot between the two - and seriously weighed up the pros and cons that came from embracing her.

Pro: Makes Y/N feel better and provides her with comfort. Also, it provided Spencer with comfort, and with how grumpy he was, that was needed this morning. He'd get a better picture of how sick she was. And it was possible he could diagnose what was wrong with her in an effort to more effectively care for her.

Cons: Gross. Snot and other mucus. There was a high chance of contracting whatever she had. She could accidentally cough in his face, that was a concern. And, she'd be able to see that he was in a bad mood because she hadn't woken him up, thus resulting in her feeling guilty for his bad mood.

It was a real pickle.

"I'll be okay. Go get ready for work, Spence," Y/N urged. Her words were unheeded as he finally made up his mind and took the leap. And by leap, he meant holding the back of his hand up to her forehead to check how badly she was burning up.

She was burning up. Badly. Really, really badly. Her forehead was like a furnace.

"Oh baby," he cooed.

He made up his mind. She spent so much of her time looking after him, it was about time he did the same for her. Reciprocity is essential in healthy relationships, after all.

"I'm going to call Emily - "

"No, sweetie, I can look after myself - "

"I am looking after you! No arguments."

"But I'm all snotty!"

"No arguments."

A dopey, wide smile erupted from Y/N's face. She knew he loved her. He told her every day. Yet, this proved it. She had witnessed Spencer don protective gloves and a mask when Derek merely coughed in her boyfriend's presence. He was hyper vigilant when it came to avoiding sickness with everyone but her. She was the exception. She was special.

"You really love me, huh?"

Pink overtook his cheeks. He knew she knew that but it still made him a little nervous to hear, like it was still his dirty little secret despite the fact it wasn't much of a secret these days. That's why he was a bit shy when he admitted, "Yeah, I do," and sat beside her on the bed. "Just know I'm going to be super whiny when I inevitably get this."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," she jeered, a bit of energy coming back so she could tease him without faltering. And there certainly wasn't any disruption when she professed, "I love you too, Spence."

His big palm smoothed down her hair. "Have you messaged Avery? Or Jonas? -"

"They know. I'm a very good boss."

"Yes, you are, honey," he agreed instantly.

It was true. Y/N was very honest and open when communicating with her employees, whether that was being confused at the memes they'd send in the work group chat or if they should really be playing Ashnikko over the speakers just as the school run rush begins. They were paid well and treated even better. So, he wasn't surprised that Y/N had sorted her sick day already.

"I'm going to the store to pick up some medicine then, I promise, I am yours to use as a pillow for the rest of the day. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect."

With a soft kiss on the forehead, he left to go through his to-do list one by one.

Emily was surprised and delighted that Spencer was asking for a day off rather than having to be forced into one. Admittedly, she would've preferred it if Y/N wasn't sick but, hey, every cloud has a silver lining.

He did go downstairs once he got dressed and poked his head into the shop to check if they needed any assistance but Y/N's employees had it locked down. And since everything was running smoothly, a cream cheese bagel going missing wasn't going to cause a problem.

The trip to the store didn't take too long. He went heavy on the creature comforts - chocolate and coffee was a must - and bought as much flu medicine as he was legally allowed to. He also added way too many heat pads, two hot water bottles with fuzzy covers, ten pairs of fluffy socks so they could mix and match, and an adorable teddy kangaroo that he knew Y/N would love.

Grocery bags filled to the brim, he got home to find that Y/N had hauled herself and the duvet into the living room. She was half asleep and half falling off the sofa so his first point of call after he put the bags down was to kneel beside her and gently push her back on the cushion.

"Hey you," she greeted.

"Hey honey. I see you made it all the way to the couch."

"Uh-huh, got a bigger tv."

"I see you have your priorities in check." His hand darted out to find one of the bags. "Do you want a buddy to watch along with?"

When she nodded, he brought out the stuffed toy and held it out to her. The kangaroo was immediately cuddled close to Y/N's chest and Reid wasn't sure if her eyes were watering because of her sickness or if she was crying.

"Aww, I love this, love you," she choked out, the tears streaming down her face increasing. It was a mix of both, he concluded as he wiped at her cheeks. "You're so nice to me. So sweet."

Y/N's babbling was snotty and nasally and wet but Spencer didn't mind. Weirdly, he thought her emotional outburst was a little cute. It was a gross mess of fluids, yes, yet he knew he was going to be 10x worse when it was his turn.

Even when he wasn't sick, he was prone to getting choked up about how sweet she was to him. Once, all she did was tell him that he was 'Soooooo smart' when they were watching some cheesy game show and he got a trivia question right, and Spencer literally started sniffling at her compliment.

People called him smart every day. He was smart. He knew that. He's a MENSA genius for christ sake. It must've been the way she said it so casually, or maybe it was because it was late at night, or even because Y/N said it with such reverence in her voice. Whatever the case, he knew he was safe and this was a judgement free zone so emotional outbursts were just a thing that happened sometimes, and that was fine.

More and more tears were shed, though Y/N was laughing through them now and it was far more obvious that they were happy tears. Happy, snotty tears.

Medicine was taken, tissues used, scrunched up and thrown in the bin, and soon, Spencer's body was being used as a pillow for his girlfriend, just as he'd offered. Y/N tried her best to keep the fluids inside, but there was no stopping the flow once it began.

10 years ago, this would've been Spencer's worst nightmare.

1) An attractive girl that he was utterly in love with was near to him and he was expected to act normally without turning into a pile of mush and shutting down mentally.

2) She was literally on top of him! That's so much physical contact. He definitely would've shied away from merely holding her hand back then, let alone this.

3) Her snot and tears created a growing wet patch on his shirt, which still would send him into overdrive if it had been anyone else's snot and tears.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked, looking down at her and swiping some hair off her forehead. Y/N nodded, though she did move her legs around a little to get maximum comfort, and her fluffy socked feet brushed against his ankle. "Are you warm? Need more tissues? Is it too bright in here, do you want me to -"

Before he could begin to go through a very long list of things he could do to make her feel better, she gave him a look. People often gave him a certain kind of stare whenever they wanted him to shut up, but he'd never seen one that was fuelled with such softness before.

"Just want you. Don't move, never move." She squished her cheek further against his pec, her fingers fiddling with one of the button's of his cardigan. The tv was on in the background, yet Y/N was mainly paying attention to her boyfriend's breathing. Thanks to her sickness, breathing was a little difficult out of one nostril but she was trying to keep it even.

Spencer only moved a little bit. He wished he had telekinesis so he could psychically move the book he wanted to read off the coffee table to his hand, but alas, he had to disrupt her bubble just a smidge. She groaned her disapproval but was quickly quelled when he scratched the back of her head until her eyes started to droop.

"Spencer?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Read to me? Please?"

His hand reached back onto the table to grab his glasses and place them onto his face, accidentally poking himself in the eye with one of the arms. He let out a low curse before getting his bearings back and assuring Y/N that he hadn't blinded himself. Once he was ready, he began to read aloud.

"On an exceptionally hot early evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in hesitation, towards K. bridge."

"Book?" she mumbled, already teetering towards sleep.

"Crime and Punishment."

"...Got it."

By the way she said that, he knew she had mentally checked out. It was obvious. It was only two syllables but it had been so muffled with sleep and his shirt that it sounded incoherent. Still, he carried on reading, one hand holding the book and the other caressing up and down her back as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

He continued for the next couple of hours. It was far more therapeutic than he ever expected. There were 2 things he absolutely loved in life - books and Y/N - and he'd joined those two loves together for an extended period of time. Maybe he'd ask Y/N if they could do this, albeit without the illness, more often. Just take a day off work to relax and read together.

Was this the sort of thing Prentiss wanted him to take days off to do? If so, he regrets never taking her up on that offer. Why would he not take this opportunity? He would in the future, he decided at that moment.

Avery, Y/N's employee, made her way up the stairs to check up on Y/N and poked her head in to discover the two on the couch. Spencer stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the sound of the bakery door opening and turned to see his photo being taken.

"You two are cute. Don't look at me like that," Avery argued in a hushed whisper and, yeah, Spencer would have to agree. "Do you need anything?"

"We're good, kid. Thank you."

"See you, Spencer."

Then, Avery left and Spencer was left gazing down at his girlfriend in the silence. He didn't start up where he left off because he was too entranced. If someone asked Y/N if she felt beautiful at that moment, she'd say no. Blocked sinuses. Red flaking skin. A grumbly faltering voice. Shaky, staggered breathing. But to Reid, she was still the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, and ever would see.

"Hi baby," he greeted once her eyes fluttered open. He was already looking at her so softly but, as her lips stretched into a smile, his gaze got impossibly softer. "Hi there, honey."

"You're so handsome," Y/N mumbled back, and although she believed that wholeheartedly, her voice still had that dreamy quality to it that indicated that she had no idea she'd said it out loud. It was merely what was at the front of her subconscious mind, and that fact ensured that Spencer blushed far more than he ever did when she said the exact same thing while fully awake. He couldn't help the giggle that flew from his lips.

"How are you feeling?"

"...Urgh."

"My poor baby." He rested his palm against her jaw and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Does chicken soup sound good? I have my mom's recipe."

"Sounds so good."

Even with the understanding that he needed to get up in order to be able to make her soup, Y/N grumbled when her pillow started to move away from her. She was mostly quelled when Spencer leant down to give her a quick kiss on the forehead and returned the toy kangaroo from where it had fallen off the sofa back into Y/N's arms.

But she didn't stay on the couch for long.

Within 5 minutes, Spencer felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. "Hey baby, I thought you'd fallen back asleep," he commented after hearing her sigh and nuzzle her nose between his shoulders.

"Missed you." The words came out muffled by Spencer's shirt but he knew what had been said, nonetheless.

"Yeah?" he let out.

Having a girlfriend was something that still boggled his big ol' brain, but having a girlfriend who missed his presence when he was 1 room away and had only been absent from her arms for a total of 300 seconds was truly something else entirely.

"You're warm." She pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder blade. "And handsome. Can't help myself."

He snorted as if she had said something unbelievable and turned slightly so she was giving him a side hug instead. One hand stirred the soup and the other wrapped around his girlfriend's waist, keeping her close and comforted by his body heat, whilst he pressed a kiss to her temple and hummed softly to himself.

Now he knew how difficult it was to cook and mix ingredients around with someone clinging onto most of your body. Though, he wouldn't be able to argue that he disliked the feeling of having Y/N attached to him. It was almost as much as he liked being attached to her because he really liked being held by her. And Spencer was sure that whenever he acted like koala and clutched at Y/N whenever she was baking, that she had this same feeling. Sure, it would be easier to move around without the cling on but was it as intimate? As warm? As sweet?

No. No, it wasn't.

Once the soup was perfect, they moved past the dining table and returned to the couch to eat their meal. As she sat next to Spencer with the bowl cupped in both hands, Y/N looked up at him with a content sigh.

"I love you. Thank you for this."

There were many things Spencer could have answered to that declaration. He could've told her, in case she wanted confirmation, that he loved her too. That he cherished her, adored her. That the sight of her sleeping peacefully with a dopey grin on her face warmed his heart so much that sometimes he didn't know whether he was actually alive or dreaming whenever he saw it. However, none of those words came out of his mouth.

"My mom made me this when I had days off from school because of anxiety," he admitted instead with a bashful smile. "Well, when she was lucid enough to do so."

"That was nice of her. I'll have to thank her whenever she comes to visit next."

"My mom really likes you, I think. When she's lucid, she asks for updates about us all the time."

Being liked by Diana Reid was high praise. Y/N got a bright grin on her face at the news, but then fell silent as she took a sip of soup. It was only now that Spencer noticed she was shaking slightly. With his free arm, he gently pulled her closer and rubbed his palm up and down her bicep comfortingly.

"Are you cold?" he inquired worriedly.

"No, I'm okay."

But he wasn't convinced. In an instant, Spencer was darting into their bedroom to find the oversized jumper that she always wore around the house and instructed, "Put your bowl down for me, honey, then arms up." Y/N did as she was told and was rewarded by her boyfriend tugging her jumper over her body and pressing kisses to her hair.

When he pulled away from her again, he asked, "Better?"

Y/N nodded and allowed herself to melt back into the couch with a content little huff as they continued their meal, enjoying each other's company quietly. Spencer would sneak a glance at Y/N every once in a while to check if she was okay and whenever she caught him doing so, he would quickly turn back to his food and pretend nothing had happened. She smiled at him every time he did.

After dinner Spencer thought it would be best to run Y/N a bath. Her fever was better than it had been this morning but she was still shivering and sweating heavily, and he couldn't help himself but worry. As they waited for the bath to fill, Y/N sat on the closed lid of the toilet and was busy picking at the bobbles of her sweatpants, leaning against her boyfriend's side so she didn't slump over.

"Just know I'd give you a really sexy strip tease if I had the energy," Y/N joked, earning a laugh from Spencer that sounded like music to her ears. Her undressing was far from sexy since she had sweat patches and snotty marks and was groaning every time she had to move even the slightest bit.

Nevertheless, Spencer held out his arm for her to hold and she gladly accepted the invitation for his help into the bathtub. The water was perfectly warm and soothing and when she sunk down into the depths of it, Y/N relaxed into the sensation.

"Do you wanna get in?"

"Do you want me to get in?"

"Course I do, but I understand if that's a bit much for you. Baths are basically a germ soup, afterall."

Spencer made a face. "That's a gross way to put it," he complained, yet was quick to add, "You're lucky I like your germs."

He was soon throwing his clothes off and jumping into the bathtub with his girlfriend, inching her forward a little so he could wedge himself between her back and the porcelain. She rested her head back against his chest and sighed contently as he placed kisses on the crown of her head.

"For someone who was so shitty at taking care of himself, you've taken real good care of me," Y/N joked softly, her words coming out as a whisper thanks to how tired she was feeling, but still audible enough that Spencer understood them perfectly. "Thank you, lovely."

"Anytime."

His head tipped downwards to pepper her shoulder blades with feather-light kisses, and although they were small and tender and seemed to tickle her skin, they sent shivers down the length of her spine all the same. Her muscles relaxed and her eyes closed shut as she basked in the feeling of Spencer's touch on her as Y/N began to play with his fingers to ensure she didn't nod off just yet, knowing full well that it would be such a hassle for her boyfriend to carry her completely naked sleeping soaking wet body across their apartment to their bedroom.

It was peaceful. Usually, Spencer didn't stop yapping - he often mumbled in his sleep - yet, at this moment, he was content to keep his mouth shut. Was this what peace is? As someone whose mind is constantly overflowing with everything going on around him, was this what it felt like to be able to sit here and simply think of one thing, or rather, one person.

"Honey?"

"Hmm?" Y/N replied without opening her eyes.

Slowly, he ran his hands along her arms before resting them upon the curve of her hips and squidging until she craned her head back to look at him properly and smiled when their eyes met.

"Kiss?"

"No, baby. I don't want to get you sick."

The corners of his lips upturned even more. "Baby," he parroted back in the exact tone she'd used. "There is a 98% chance that I've already been contaminated with your germs by touching you or, I don't know, the fact that we're sharing bathwater."

A soft chuckle escaped Y/N's lips before she leaned forward to press a kiss onto his cheek. That, however, wasn't enough for him and he hooked his forefinger under her chin to tilt it towards him but as he leant in, she backed he head away.

"I have sick person breath."

"Y/N," he whined. "I don't mind."

"Maybe not in theory but, in practice, it might freak you out."

"Please kiss me? Pretty please? I'm okay with this. I swear."

She hesitated but finally relented and gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth. Once again, that wasn't enough and Spencer chased her lips to extend for another kiss, which she obliged to.

After a few seconds of kissing, Y/N pulled away but only to rest her forehead against his. His hand was still cupping the nape of her neck and his thumb started rubbing in circles in a slow repetitive pattern. This was nice. This was relaxing. Just this little piece of intimacy with her lover was enough to make her feel at ease.

"You're going to be so whiney in a day or two," Y/N teased in a low voice as she traced her finger across his jawline.

"I'm going to be such a baby."

"My baby," Y/N whispered before placing her lips on his.

It was slow and innocent and sweetly romantic as they relaxed in the tub together. Spencer peppered kisses all over her face and her neck, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over her bare shoulders and down her bicep and back up again.

Eventually, though, the warmth of the water started to decrease and so they got out, dried themselves off quickly, and dressed in their pajamas to settle down for the night. Well, evening. Dusk wasn't even upon them yet and the pair were already pulling the duvet back onto their bed from the sofa and snuggling underneath it, facing one another as they spoke in hushed voices.

"Achoo!"

Surprising himself by the sheer volume of his sneeze, Spencer had to give himself a few seconds after to regain his bearings. It was official. He was sick now too, which wasn't the best news in the world but, hey, if the price of making Y/N feel better was a day or two sneezing and sniffling, he'd take it any day of the week.

"I'll go get the medicine," Y/N declared, offering him no time to comprehend what she'd said before she was making her way out of the room. It was as if a switch had flipped. As soon as Spencer seemed even the slightest bit under the weather, whatever illness she was going through was put on the back-burner for a minute so she could care for him.

They would look after each other, they'd decided with the unconscious part of their brains, and if that meant sharing a bottle of ibuprofen, so be it. Y/N came back with the pills, regular bottles of water, and 2 heated water bottles.

"That's why you were gone for so long." (She'd been in the kitchen for just over 5 mins)

"Uh-huh, I was warming up these bad boys." She lightly hit the centre of one of the bottles, squishing the water to ripple across the plastic. "Did you miss me?"

"I missed you so much," Spencer admitted, reaching up to wrap an arm around her waist to pull her flush against him. She giggled as she managed to keep everything she was holding in her grip and not send it tumbling towards his face.

His neediness had kicked back into gear.

Once she'd deposited everything in her hands, they were cradling his head as she got comfy with her knees on either side of his hips. He hummed happily into the contact, and although he was a little disappointed at himself for being a wimp as soon as one simple little sneeze occurred, Spencer just sat there and watched as his sick girlfriend checked his temperature, gave him the pills and water before she took some herself, and made sure he was cosy.

How could he do anything else? He was far too content with watching her. His eyes were round and sparkling like saucers and his lips were pursed in a cute pout like a pet who was looking for attention, and while Spencer tried his hardest not to coo and giggle like a lovestruck fool, he couldn't quite manage to hide how smitten he was.

If he had known that this was what life would be like after falling so deeply in love with Y/N, he would have done it a long time ago. Even when they'd been 'just friends', he'd been aware that she was pretty and kind and perfect for him but had been too blinded by his work, too consumed by his insecurities, too scared to mess up their friendship to admit it to himself.

Jesus, it was crazy to ponder how good his life could've been these past few years. Remembering all of the bad stuff that happened to him, if he'd come to his senses earlier, would that have happened if Y/N was by his side? He assumed that some of it would've gone down the same way but he would've had his girlfriend by his side. Maybe it wouldn't be less mentally taxing but he would've had a shoulder to cry into, he wouldn't have to go through all his trauma by himself, and wouldn't have had to wake up alone every dreary morning.

Perhaps his life would've been a whole lot happier overall.

"Where'd that brain of yours go?" Y/N asked once she noticed that he had zoned out on her and she was now stroking his hair soothingly. She looked at him in amusement as she saw the dopey expression painted across his features and chuckled.

"Hmm? Oh." Spencer shook his head slightly as he returned to the present. "Just... thinking."

"About what?" Y/N playfully poked him in the ribcage.

"You."

He broke out into a gleeful grin and wrapped his arms around her waist to flip them over. Y/N squealed at the surprise burst of energy which suddenly surged throughout him and allowed him to pin her on to the mattress with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Spencer!" Y/N laughed as he planted sloppy kisses along the sides of her face. She reached over to push him away but he easily moved her hands aside and continued his assault. Her face was turning red from all his affection. The tips of her ears. Her cheeks. All around her. And when he pressed his lips firmly against hers once again, she didn't back up because she was concerned with transferring her lurgy.

Since he'd already got it. He was sneezing. He was snotting. And she was sure this hyperactivity was going to deplete whatever remaining energy he had left in no time. Why bother now? Indulging in each other would make them feel better sooner, right? So, yeah. Why not?

Well, the urge to sneeze is hard to resist, you see. Say if your mouth was close to another person's and you couldn't hold the urge at bay, yeah, you'd make what had once been a sweet and lovely embrace into one filled with mucus and betrayal.

Y/N froze in shock. Her face clenched immediately as she felt the onslaught.

"Thanks babe," she mumbled sarcastically as Spencer rushed to wipe away his sneeze with the sleeves of his sleep shirt and to apologise profusely with a string of stammering words leaving his mouth. He was babbling.

"I am so sorry. Saliva can burst from a person’s mouth at nearly a hundred miles an hour and I swear I didn't mean to hit you in the face with germs that fly at the same speed as a Eurasian Hobby. It snuck up on me, okay? It was unintentional-"

"God, I love you."

Weird. If Reid was asked what would happen after he committed an act of biological warfare towards his girlfriend, he never would've guessed that.

"W-why? What? I don't understand."

"You apologised for something that a) you couldn't control, b) was my fault for passing this bug onto you anyway, and c) couldn't stop yourself from blurting out not one but two facts during your apology." She propped herself up onto her elbows. "Would I prefer to not get sneezed on? Yes. But, let's be fair, I am overrun with Spencer Reid's germs so a sudden 'burst' is not going to bother me all that much."

Her words caught Spencer off guard and his eyes widened at her confession. Was it really that simple? That easy? Did she really not mind? Life as a whole is extremely complicated, Spencer Reid's more than most, yet somehow this was perfectly simple. This was calm. This was content. This was happy.

Admittedly, they would've preferred to be disease-free and happy, but hey, you've gotta look for the silver linings.

The pair brushed their teeth, washed their faces and clung to their hot water bottles side by side. Their bed was warm and cosy despite the fact that there were 2 sniffing idiots under the duvet. Though their sickness wasn't comfortable in the slightest, their surroundings and the way they clung to each other was enough to quell them.

And when the morning came, Spencer was as whiny as they'd expected. He awoke with a groan - which wasn't that unusual for him - and immediately spiralled into a coughing fit that woke Y/N up. She huffed in protest against waking up early, but did sit up to gently palm at his back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades until Spencer had calmed down enough to catch his breath.

*Click here for my Spencer Reid masterlist, or here for the entire masterlist*

When his coughs finally subsided, he flopped back onto his pillow, and rolled onto his back with one arm stretched lazily towards Y/N. "We're staying here all day," he concluded matter-of-factly, causing Y/N to smile contently as she shuffled closer on the bed to snuggle into his side.

Next Chapter -> Kiss And Make Up

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[innocent-artery]

is this how u request? anyways! i was wondering if u could do like a spencer reid w like a girl best friend, but like he has feelings for her

she does all these little things for him like bring him coffee and food and let him ramble and stuff

i was thinking of writing it myself but id love to see someone else’s take <3

This is typically how people send in requests (either via inbox or comments) so you're good! I had so much fun writing this, thank you for sending it in!

Loverboy

1.6k words

Summary: Spencer's got a big fat crush on his best friend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bestfriend!reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. Reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to valentine's day - a spotify playlist by me!

~

Everyone in the office that morning knew that it was far too early to be there. Spencer, more than most, relied heavily on the power of caffeine to get his day going. It was not uncommon for folks to be carrying around a mug even in the late hours of the night.

And as always you, like a gift from God, would always saunter through the meeting room door with two steaming cups of coffee and a weary smile.

Spencer adored you. Although everyone on the team had a place in his heart, you were always the one closest to him. You were the one who had taken the time to get to know him, who listened to anything he had to say and got to know him as more than a coworker, an agent, a "resident genius" like he was some kind of appliance.

It was rocky at first, no doubt. Spencer was not the most perceptive when it came to reading social cues (or giving them to others), so his stiff and awkward nature took a while to see past. Eventually, you managed to break down the walls of caution around him, and over the span of a few years the two of you became more accustomed to being around each other more than anyone else. Even though you spent practically days together at a time, the two of you found solace in each other's presence, often heading back to someone's apartment and ordering takeout to wind down after the case with a movie.

To Spencer's embarrassment and yours, it had become the group's joke to refer to you two as The Soulmates. The first time Morgan made the joke, Spencer's entire face went a deep shade of red and he couldn't look at anything other than his feet for the rest of the hour. Eventually the two of you became accustomed to the running joke, brushing it off with a sarcastic laugh and roll of the eyes.

To be fair, Morgan wasn't entirely wrong. The two of you were joined at the hip, but you were just friends. It saddened Spencer to think about it sometimes, really. But he was content with having you so close, to be able to work with you and come home with you. To get to bring each other coffee and let you rest your head on his shoulder when you fell asleep was a closeness he granted to few people, and so he was, for the most part, satisfied with having you as you did.

That morning was no different. The sun had just barely risen, and Spencer was stifling a yawn as sugar poured into his cup like water. This morning was odd- a thought had struck him in the car, a comment Prentiss had made saying you and him were like a married couple. Was that true? Spencer knew plenty of married people but he didn't see them in action very often.

Would you even want to marry him? No, Spencer thought. You were just his friend. Sure, you did all sorts of favors for him and hugged him, but that was surely just a mark of close friendship.

"Morning, pretty boy." Morgan came up beside him, bringing a mug down from the shelf.

"Morning." Spencer replied, sipping from his coffee.

"So have you proposed yet?"

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, replying with a "what?!" once he stopped spluttering that might have been a tad bit too incredulous.

"Jesus, Reid, I was kidding." Morgan held his hands up, but he still wore an amused grin.

""We're just friends, Morgan." Spencer said defensively, moving to prepare another cup.

"You're making her morning coffee right now, pretty boy. You know who does that?" Morgan gestured his mug in Spencer's direction. "Married couples."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and coworkers."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, Reid." Morgan gave him a pat on the shoulder, sauntering back over to his desk with his free hand in his pocket.

Spencer heaved a relieved sigh, taking both cups over towards your desk. You beamed at him when the smell hit your nose.

"Well thank you, Spencer." You squeezed his wrist affectionately, and Spencer thought he might die. He turned his head to hide the stupid smile on his face, mumbling a "welcome", but the other direction didn't help him much. Morgan's desk shared a divider wall with yours, so the man in question simply raised his brow, a knowing smirk surely hidden behind his coffee cup.

Spencer rolled his eyes, turning back towards you. Your head was tilted in concern. "You alright, Spencer? You seem a bit jittery."

To strangers, Spencer might always seem jittery, like a nervous cat. But you could tell the difference.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm alright. Too much coffee, maybe."

Spencer nearly slapped himself when he realized his mug was still full. He prayed you didn't notice, tilting the rim so you couldn't see its contents.

"Alright kidlets, let's get this party started." Garcia called from the meeting room door, a stack of envelopes tucked under her arm.

You pushed off from your chair, nudging Spencer's shoulder. "Let's get this party started," you chuckled.

Spencer lightly touched his arm where you'd nudged him, watching you make your way across the office.

"Let's get this party started, Loverboy," Morgan, seemingly coming from nowhere, rubbed his shoulder against Spencer's dramatically, voice risen in pitch.

"Shut up!" Spencer pushed the man off of him, but couldn't help the laugh that came with it.

. . .

Four days later the team was right back where it started, making coffee and wrapping up paperwork- only this time there was a silent agreement that everyone wanted to get home.

Even in these low-energy moments Spencer still stayed by you, sitting with his legs folded on the large table nearest your desk, scribbling away.

His head perked up when he heard your chair wheeling over to him. "So, yours or mine?"

Spencer tried to ignore the way your arms folded over his knee to rest your chin atop them. "Uh- I was actually hoping yours?"

He definitely liked your place better than his. As much as he wanted to make it home, his apartment really was just a place for him to sleep at night and keep all of his stuff. Your apartment reminded him of you- but he wouldn't admit that that's the real reason he preferred your apartment to his.

You hummed. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good." Spencer was actually in a mood for Indian cuisine, but when you suggested Chinese it suddenly sounded like the best idea ever.

Work passed by fast, something that could rarely be said about Spencer's job. He was just excited to be going home, he told himself, even though he was headed to yours after this.

Although Spencer had to admit, your apartment was practically his. You both had a few items belonging to the other that you always forgot to take back. Spencer even had a travel toothbrush that sat in the cup on your sink. He knew where all your dishes were, knew your DVD collection by heart. He never lingered at the doorway like he might do at a new friend's place, he kicked his shoes off and made himself at home, because really, he was.

Tonight was no different. Spencer was sprawled out on your couch, half-empty foam box of chow mein sitting on the coffee table, and you under his arm. When you'd made yourself comfortable next to him, Spencer felt butterflies in his stomach, he thought. It was a marvel to him, hearing a phrase like that so often but not knowing what it really meant until now.

The time was nearing one in the morning, and while Spencer was still engrossed in whatever film you'd picked out this time, you were fast asleep, head heavy on his chest.

Spencer glanced over at you, smiling softly to himself.

"You know, you're not making this any easier for me." Spencer whispered, stroking your arm. "I mean, I'm not complaining, you know, but it's kind of hard to suppress a crush when you're falling asleep on me."

Spencer knew you couldn't hear him, which is why he felt a breath of relief leave him when the words came out. He attempted, with slow and careful movements, to adjust you to sleep on the couch. Spencer thanked whatever god might be out there that you'd purchased a sleep-worthy couch- he knew, he'd tested it personally.

"Good night," Spencer murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline and giving you one last glance from the doorway.

Maybe someday.

. . .

It was mornings like these that tested Spencer's willpower.

It had not even been six hours since he'd left your home that he was being called in on another case. So here he was. Five days later, doing the exact same thing: making two cups of coffee.

But as always, you made it better.

"Spencer!"

He didn't have to turn to know who was calling him, but he did anyways, just to look at you. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I had a pretty nice pillow," you teased, and Spencer's ears turned red. "Hey, are you free Saturday?"

"Yeah, if Hotch doesn't call us in at the crack of dawn." Spencer snorts.

"Great. There's an art exhibit I wanted to see and it wouldn't be as boring if I went alone." You grinned, gratefully taking the mug he offered you.

"Can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday." Spencer agreed.

"It's a date then."

Spencer's eyes went as wide as saucers at your response, mouth falling open a little. You giggled at his reaction.

"C'mon, Hotch is waiting." You turned, not waiting for a reply.

Spencer shook his head as if to clear it, a stupid grin plastered across his face as he trailed behind you.

It's a date.

~

[slowburningechoes]

I was wondering if you could do something with like, maybe write a smut about Professor Reid x Female Student. Thanks <3

uhm, yes!!! professor reid makes me swoon cw: smut (18+, minor dni), brat!reader, unethical relationship (title ix is important babes), age gap (15 years), fantasization, mutual masturbation, oral (f!recieving), office sex, makeshift gag usage, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), breeding word count: 3.1k

secrets demand silence

Spencer knew this wasn't right - thinking of you, his top pupil, as he palmed the bulge growing in his slacks. It was an unethical and immoral concept at its core. After all, he couldn't have you and thinking of you this way just made his yearning even more unbearable.

He leaned back in his leather desk chair and tried to get the thoughts and images of you out of his mind, but the erection in his pants grew nonetheless. He couldn't help but think about the way you always sat at the front of the class wearing the cutest blouses and the shortest skirts. How you were always the first to chime in to answer his questions, rhetorical or otherwise. You had always done the reading and studied well for exams, but if you had to cram some last minute you would always come to class early with your hair pulled back with a claw clip and strands caressing the sides of your face as you stared intently at your textbook. There were so many times he wanted to bend you over the lectern right there and take you at the front of the empty lecture hall. Sometimes while he lectured, he would notice you biting down on your pencil and crossing your legs tightly and perversely, he hoped it was because you were soaking wet and thinking of him in the same inappropriate ways he thought of you. Spencer often wondered if you ever dashed to the bathroom or to your apartment to satisfy yourself from the tension those thoughts caused, just like he was doing now and like he had so many times before.

He tried to stop thinking of you, he really did - but it just didn't work. His cock was so enlarged that it was barely contained by the dark material - so, he decided to give in to temptation... once again.

Spencer knew the details of you from memory, but a little reference couldn't hurt. Thank god the institution didn't have access to his private browser history, he already had your social media pages pulled up from previous times he let his lustful thoughts control him. He had even decided his favorite picture of you: you were at some cozy little bookstore in between two aisles of shelves wearing a cream button down with a khaki v-cut sweater vest over top and a light brown plaid skirt that was just long enough to barely hit the middle of your thighs, your hair was wispy and pulled back by a matte cream claw clip and you were wearing the wide wire frame glasses that always made him take a second look. You weren't just standing there in the picture, though, you had your back plastered against one of the shelves, with your foot kicked up against the bottom and your eyes buried in a book. You looked so intelligent and beautiful, like you were in your natural habitat.

The last time he had touched himself to the thought of you was the first time he found that photo and he couldn't help dreaming about pinning you against that shelf and kissing you so deeply that the book fell from your hand and you were begging for him to touch you. That was a wonderful fantasy and one of his favorites, but after today's class Spencer's mind had created a new one.

He had started discussing a case that the BAU had worked in rural Alaska towards the end of lecture after one of your peers had asked about the places he had traveled during his work with the FBI. The conversation only scratched the surface, but it brought back the memory of the intimate homey inn and how there were limited rooms, so everyone else had to double up except him.

Now, so many years in the future, Spencer was wondering what it would be like to have to share a room like that with you. The inescapable proximity and the fact that you would be on the other side of the bathroom door with water dripping down your body as you dried off. How small the bed was and how close you would have to be because of it.

His imagination began to run wild as he freed his throbbing cock and wrapped his fist around it. He started to wonder what you wore to bed usually and how the fabric would feel when it inevitably brushed against his skin. He imagined waking up with the most strained morning wood imaginable and you making the softest whimpers in your sleep. He wondered if you would let him wake you up with a deep kiss and you would take him by surprise and straddle him.

Spencer was embarrassed that even the thought of kissing you made his dick twitch in his hand as he pumped it, but it did so desperately.

His need only increased as his imagination kept going, his eyes shut tight as he began to establish a rhythm. Spencer started to think about you grinding your core against his erection, moaning into his mouth and the wetness pooling on the area revealing that you slept without panties on. He would lift your sleep shirt to put your perfect tits on display for him before bringing one into his mouth as he bucked himself into you.

His fantasy hadn't even let him inside of you yet when his orgasm began to creep upon him at an increasing rate. Spencer's eyes were closed and his mouth was gaping as he increased the speed of his hand.

He couldn't help but let hushed mumblings of your name slip out as he worked himself with anticipation... what he didn't expect, though, was that you heard them.

You had just entered his office to see the shocking and glorious sight of Dr. Reid pleasuring himself. You hadn't knocked since he'd always said he had an "open door policy", but now you thought he may need to reconsider that. You had thought about what his cock might look like, but the reality of it was more than you could've ever dreamed of. He was lengthy, which was expected, but he was also impressively girthy. He would fill you up and stretch you out, the thought of which made your core begin to ache with a need that grew with every stroke he made down his member.

Before you could think consciously about your decision, you found yourself locking the door of his office behind you. Dr. Reid was so immersed in his self-gratification that he didn't notice the light "click" the lock had made.

The only thing that broke his trance was when you finally broke the tense heated air with a hesitant, "Doctor Reid?"

"F-fuck! Y/n?" his eyes shot open and he immediately began to panic, trying to maneuver himself back inside his pants and close out his browser before you made it around to his side of the desk - but to no avail. "W-what are you doing? Shit..."

You let your heart and sexual desire lead over your head as you came to the edge of his desk and propped your ass on top of him. Looking to your right, you saw your profile pulled up on his monitor. When you glanced down at him, his eyes were wide with shock, his cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment, and his cock still swollen and twitching with need.

"What am I doing? What are you doing, professor?" you inquire suggestively, spreading your legs open in the process, your skirt leaving little to the imagination.

"I-I," he attempted to begin his justification.

You flipped the bottom of your skirt upwards to reveal a pair of lacy black panties, which you began to rub your fingers down gently. Spencer couldn't help but suck in a tight breath and stare as you teased the outside of your need.

"Because it looks like you were jerking off to the thought of me," you hum, smirking down at him and pulling your panties to the side you reveal your bare pussy.

A hushed groan escaped him and his dick slapped against his stomach firmly. "I-I'm sorry, y/n."

"Don't be, professor... it's so hot," you dipped your middle finger between your folds and moaned softly for him, trying not to be too loud.

"Y/n..." he whimpered with a shaky voice, watching you intently. "T-this is wrong."

"Mmmm, but it feels so right," you sigh, pushing two fingers deeper inside you and moaning again. "Doesn't it?"

"Y-yes," he responded, beginning to palm his erection again.

"Don't be shy, Dr. Reid - I already saw your little show," you reassured, opening your eyes to smile at him devilishly. You circled your clit before choking out his name again with purpose and need, "Dr. Reid, please."

"Fuck, oh-okay," Spencer muttered before wrapping his fist around his length once again, pumping at a growing rhythm.

The sight of him stroking himself again made your wetness grow, your fingers motion in it eliciting the most delicious noises. The combination of those noises in combination with your moans made Spencer absolutely feral. Touching himself and watching you wasn't enough. Suddenly, he lunged forward towards you, spreading your thighs open with his hands.

"Professor!" you gasp, surprised by the contact and the strength of his grip.

"Can I taste you?" he blurts, his breath hot against your inner thighs.

You nod adamantly and begin to scoot your underwear down your legs to assist him. "Yes, please."

He hooked his fingers around the fabric and pulled them down the rest of the way before planting wet kisses along your inner thighs and up to your core. The feeling was like ecstasy, your mind was blank except for thoughts of pleasure and your body became tingly with anticipation. You were relieved when Spencer licked a stripe up your slit, dipping his tongue into you and gathering your arousal on his tongue. Just as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently, your legs snapped around either side of his head. He begin to switch between lapping at your center and taking the sensitive nub between his lips. It was excruciatingly satisfying, so much so that you gripped onto his locks firmly and subconsciously bucked your hips up into his mouth, demanding more as the pressure in your abdomen grew.

"Dr. Reid - I'm going cum," you whimpered, pressing his head against your core firmly. "Keep going, I'm begging you."

You feel him nod in agreement and moan into you as he continued to use his tongue strategically to motivate your climax. He began to devour you in a nearly animalistic manner, still methodic with his movements but with a desperation that made your thighs begin to quiver around his face. It only took him sucking gently on your clit one last time for you to fall apart, coming uncontrollably all over his face, grinding into it. You stifle your moans by biting down on your knuckle as he continues to lap at your pussy until you became numb from the excessive stimulation.

When he pulled his face from between your legs, his lips, chin, and the bottom bit of his button nose were soaked with your arousal. Plastered across his face was a mischievous smirk as he licked the arousal from his lips.

"You taste so... so fucking good, y/n," Spencer complimented, before leaning up to kiss you so that you could taste it as well.

You tried to respond as he moved away from your lips, but he was already working to remove your blouse. "I-is this okay?" he paused to ask when it was about halfway up your torso.

"You don't need to ask, professor. Anything you want to do is more than alright with me," you assure, peeling off your top to prove it to him.

Spencer stood there for a moment, staring at your breasts cupped by your beautiful black bra that matched your lacy underwear he had peeled off earlier. He reached around to your back to unsnap your bra, which he did so with ease. The fabric slipped from your shoulders and dropped from your chest, the cool air brushing against your bare skin causing your nipples to perk up and become hard.

"They're even more perfect than I imagined," he whispered, cupping them in his hands and bringing his thumb to caress your nipples.

"You've thought about them, hm, professor?" you tease, raising an eyebrow up at him. "Not a very appropriate way to think about your students, is it?"

Spencer cuts you a look of exasperation and snaps back, "Be quiet."

His demanding tone made your body writhe with warmth, "Oh, yes, sir."

"You act like you don't like me thinking of you like this, touching you like this - when you're the one who came over and put yourself on display for me," he growled.

"You were the one stroking your cock with a picture of me pulled up for reference," you responded with a sassy tone.

Your face was suddenly snatched between his hands, his thumb and fingers pushing your cheeks together. "And that made you so so wet. You know... after all the times I've fantasized about you, I never imagined you'd be such a brat."

You give him a smug look before biting you bottom lip and bringing him down for a deep passionate kiss. "Are you going to keep blabbing or are you going to fuck me?"

A loud huff came from Spencer as he leaned down to pick your panties up from the ground, stuffing them in your mouth. You gag around them slightly as they fill your mouth, muffling your teasing words.

"Since you're quiet now, I will," he whispered in your ear, sucking on your neck by your collarbone.

You moan in satisfaction, the sound barely vibrating through the fabric, your desperation making your professor chuckle smuggly. "That's much better. Can't have your loud mouth getting us caught, can we?" He spreads your legs back open, sliding the pads of his fingers in between your folds.

You shake your head "no" insistently, wanting to be good for him so that he would enter you. Your obedience worked, Spencer dropped his slacks and underwear to the floor and lined his tip up at your entrance. His dick brushing against your throbbing folds made you whine and grip onto the edge of the desk.

"I'm not even inside of you yet, beautiful," he hummed, enjoying your desperation.

He didn't wait an extra second to fill you, though, pushing his cock fully inside of you with one good stroke. You are stunned by the sudden force, his girth stretching you out with a stinging pleasure just as you had expected it would. He was much bigger than any other man you had been with and he knew exactly where to place his thrusts for maximum satisfaction for both of you. As he began to establish a pattern of his thrusts and their intensity, your walls began to squeeze around him for more. You wrap your arm around his back and scrape your nails down it with intense urgency, your simultaneous moans stifled by the makeshift gag in your mouth.

"You feel a-amazing, y/n - holy shit," Spencer struggled with his words, separated by quiet groans motivated by your pussy clenching around him. "So-so much tighter than I could've dreamt."

You smiled at his comment and looked up at his head thrown back and mouth gaping open as he fucked up into you harder. His left hand dug into your hip and the other came to tangle his fingers into the hair at the base of your head.

The deeper he pushed into you, the closer you became to reaching your second orgasm. The rhythm of his thrusts made your clit numb with pleasure, satisfying the nerves so much that you did not need external stimulation for your climax to rock into you. The grunts flowing from Spencer's lips in combination with the satisfaction made it come upon you quickly, your knees attempting to buckle together and your breaths becoming sharper. Your tightness increased, causing the cum to suddenly rush to the tip of Spencer's cock, causing his orgasm to rush into him as well.

The euphoria came crashing into both of you simultaneously, resulting in the most sloppy and melodic hushed noises you had ever heard. Your orgasm finished before his, your body tingling with satisfaction and your senses heightened.

"Y-y/n, baby - I'm going to cum in you," he muttered in between his struggled breaths.

All you could do was silently beg through the panties stuffed in your mouth, you wanted every drop of him inside of you. Thankfully, Spencer must have felt your body agree, your pussy opening deeply for his seed to spill inside. Within seconds, he was grunting lowly and coating your walls with his cum. The feeling of him flooding you was the greatest satisfaction you had felt before, warm and full.

As he came down from his own high, he looped his fingers into the lace embedded in your mouth, pulling it out slowly.

"How do you feel, beautiful?" he asks in a gentler comforting tone.

You latch onto his neck and pull him down to you for a sensual open-mouthed kiss. "Absolutely wonderful... I think I'll have to come by office hours more often."

"I think I'm going to have to change that open door policy, hm?" he suggests. "Only for you."

"Oh, you don't do this with all your students?"

Spencer responds with an eye roll and his thumb brushing down your bottom lip. "No, y/n... only you."

"What about outside of here, hm? You have some girls you meet up with when you get lonely?" you tease again, trying to gauge where this relationship was headed.

He lets out a sigh of annoyance, "Y/n. Only you - you're all I think about."

"You're all I think about, too," you blurt out in agreement.

"Mmm, so no hot college hook ups for you?" he decides to play your game.

"No... I-I've been waiting for you," you respond, tracing your fingers down his chest.

"I'm yours, if you'll have me, y/n. Let me make you dinner at my apartment," Spencer whispered, kissing your lips softly. "We - we have to keep this on the down low, but I can't go another day without you."

You smile at him and nod, "I'd love to have dinner with you, Dr. Reid. I'm yours, as well... don't worry, I graduate in May, but I'm good at keeping secrets regardless."

requests are open!

[silversweetpea]

Peer Review

pairing: Spencer reid x reader (gn)

word count: 1895

warning: This is probably really sappy but other than that i don’t think so?

summary: The genius and the student and the very obvious thing between them they both weren’t seeing.

author’s note: this is wildly self indulgent because I'm struggling with staying motivated with school and really just wanted to image a cute coffee date with Spencer. I have an idea for a second part so keep an eye out for me continuing to be wildly indulgent the next time I get sad about making my reference page lmao

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀

You weren’t hiding your college course from your coworkers. If Hotch or Morgan or even Garcia had asked you would tell them flat out that you had classes you were studying for. It wasn’t a big deal and if anyone in the world was going to understand what it was like to be addicted to working on something, it would be them.

If you were to hide it though, you would want the man approaching your table to be the last to know. 

“Hey Doc, what’s up?” Reid smiled again, a little dopey and a little bashful, the same one that you got every time you called him by the nickname. Seeing him in this moment was almost worth having been at the table since you had slipped out of the office yesterday afternoon. 

“Just, uh, you mentioned this coffee shop on the past few three cases straight. I figured I might as well try it while I had a chance.” It was your turn to smile, world suddenly a little brighter at his comment. You’d be the first to call anyone else in your circumstance hypocritical or indecisive to be so giddy over someone proving that they’ve been listening to you while trying so hard to hide something from them. Lucky for you, you weren’t anyone else and Spencer, as attentive as he was, had yet to comment on your sudden love of textbooks or attachment to your laptop.

“Good right? Have a seat, tell me what you got.” He was quick to slip into the spot across from you, long legs brushing yours under the table. You’ve never been more thankful for the close quarters as you are in that moment. Your laptop gets drawn towards you, but not quite closed. There was no telling if it would turn back on if you gave it a chance to rest.

“I have no clue. I didn’t know what most of the drinks had in them and by the time i got to the front of the line there were people behind me. Whatever it is cost six bucks.” His voice is tired and part of you longs to cup his face in your hand, to run your finger along the bags forming under his eyes. You’re not sure how tired he must be to not rehearse his order like usual but you’re not sure you could handle finding out either. It helps explain the dramatic drink - nearly half of which you’re sure is whip cream - in front of him at least. 

“Well, give it a try.” Spencer looks skeptical of the rather frilly drink in his hand but when you nod towards it, you get to see him lift it to his lips. More importantly you get to see the slight mustache that forms on his upper lip.

Your brain wonders what he would taste like if you kissed him. 

The more rational part of your brain simply leans over and uses a spare napkin to wipe the offending sweetness off his face.

It doesn’t occur to you that Reid has issues with people in his space until you’ve already settled back into your chair, napkin at your side and a dumbstruck look on his face. You’ve never seen brown eyes so blown wide or his hands so still where they still held his drink.

“Sorry about that. It’s worth it though right?” Spencer barely blinks as you give a stilted laugh and sip at your own drink - despite the fact that its now well past its peak at hours old. 

“Yeah,” The tired edge is gone, replaced with something breathy. Whatever it is though, Spencer gets a hold of himself with a short clearing of his throat and a look to the laptop you had nearly, blessedly, forgotten about. “What are you working on?”

“Oh just, stuff,” Raised eyebrows, teasing smile. If your job didn’t kill you, if this homework didn’t kill you, it would be him. Even as you cringe you can feel the knock of his knees against yours again. “You know, organizing my email, going through old files, that sort of thing.”

Hands you would recognize by shadow alone close the distance, small as it is, painfully slow. It’s a polite way to argue, an unspoken question you answer with a resigned sigh and a sip of your drink once more as you watch those beautiful features light up with surprise.

“This is an essay.” The words aren’t accusatory like you had thought they would be, they’re not even joking, just confused. It makes looking up at him a bit easier though it does nothing to stop the way that your heart skips at the eye contact.

“In theory.” Your weak response makes him smile again, mouth faltering with no noise as you slid the laptop back towards yourself. 

“Why are you writing an essay?” It’s innocent but your eyes are already skimming through the paper again, spotting all the mistakes that Spencer’s just seen and feeling your stomach plumet at the extent of them all. The bravery that had been surging through you at his presence suddenly slipped away. 

“You have to promise you won’t laugh.” His hair falls into his eyes just a bit when he nods, face serious in a way that you’ve never seen outside of the field. Though you suppose that you’ve only ever had a good reason to invite him out alone once or twice and if he was nervous with the group he’d probably keep that to himself if possible. Your eyes drift back to your cup at your side and the finger you have running around the rim of the cup to avoid looking at him. “I’ve been doing an online class recently. Figured it was about time to start updating what I know so I don’t get rusty.”

The silence between you feels unjustly vulnerable. 

“That’s...wow.” Soft as a feather. Would that be what it felt like to feel his breath on your skin too? Not looking up means that you can’t tell what he’s trying to say with just two words and it only takes a second to compose yourself. 

“I know it’s nothing compared to your wall of degrees bu-” Your gaze only snaps to Spencer when a warm hand covers your own.

“No that’s not it. I just can’t believe you found time to go back to school with all the cases we handle. Do you ever sleep?” Silence again, as if the rest of the cafe is holding its breath too while you search for some sign of insincerity. There isn’t though, not with Spencer. 

“There’s a reason I like this coffee shop.” The noise comes back all at once when you catch the smallest bit of a laugh. You don’t mind this one though, it almost sounds relieved coming from him. “Though I like it less when I’m cut off for the day.”

“How long have you been here?” Warmth floods your veins, embarrassment catching you by surprise. The strange looks of baristas who ring you out several times a visit was one thing. Watching Spencer’s brow furrow, or his hair shift as he leaned ever so slightly towards you, was another. 

The cold air feels like a brick being dropped on your hand when you pull back into yourself. Your eyes glue themselves to the laptop screen and the blinking cursor that seemed to mock you there. 

“Long enough to rewrite this essay four times and still hate it. I meant to write it in the hotel rooms but the case wrapped early and then there was paper work and-” You hadn’t even noticed the hand snaking back in your direction until the laptop you’d been focused on was pulled from your grip.

“Let me take a look,” Spencer says as if you’re not floundering like a fish out of water. The nerves have just enough time to build in your throat, suffocating you, before you realize that you’re just as anxious about the ease in which the genius offers his help. Its the same way that he saves you a seat on the jet or offers to grab you something from the breakroom. Its the same as when you share those quiet in-between moments where you learn about his life in exchange for bits of your own and marvel at how perfect they seem to fit together despite your concerns.

“If it’s bad you can say so. I know that I’m not the best at the whole essay thing. Tests I can study for but open ended ‘explain this concept I barely touched upon in class’ moments aren’t my strong suit.” He says nothing, but you can see a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. It’s hard to tell what that means for your paper but for your heart is means another skipped beat. The words keep coming in an attempt to ignore that though. “You know maybe I should just go. It’s not fair to make you review that on your day off-”

“(Y/n), calm down,” The anxiety simmers and then evaporates completely when he looks up at you again. the smile makes his eyes shine and Spencer voice is light with a laugh that doesn’t seem quite able to break free. You’re sure in that moment that time stops, that you’ve spent an eternity just allowing yourself to get lost in familiarity. Your line of work doesn’t leave much room for domestic day dreams, nights spent at the dinner table or lazy Sunday afternoons but for a minute you can see it all ahead of you and reflected back in Spencer’s gaze. “Your essay is fine. I’m just going to leave some notes for you to review later and then you can have it back.”

“Why not just tell me now?” The words are still breathless, but when he looks back to the screen, the sound of typing filling the space between you two, your lungs seem more accepting of the air you gulp down. For the first time in your life you understand how it must feel to be a smoker, addicted to the same thing robbing you of your ability to breathe.

“Because I’m walking you home. You look like you haven’t slept since you left the office.” Easy, confident, said in the same tone of voice that he’d use to tell you the sky is blue and although you want to argue, want to insist that you stay put until the essay if finished and submitted you don’t have it in you to deny him that truth. 

“Okay, just let me grab something to drink that isn’t hours old.” 

“Here,” Spencer hands off his drink in one hand and swipes your laptop bag with the other, throwing the strap over his shoulder. “It seems like something you’d like.”

When he stands, you’re pretty sure you catch a glimpse of red in his cheeks, but you’re so busy thinking about the fact that you’re sipping from the same cup that you can’t trust your own eyes. Nor can you fathom how he knew that this was your favorite drink if slightly sweeter from the caffeine free flavoring used. 

All you know is that when Spencer almost trips over himself to hold the door open on the way out, you’re thinking again of what it’d be like to kiss him. 

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @dreatine - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

warnings: mentions of rape and abuse, no graphic descriptions

Where You Belong

As Spencer stalks the corridor of prison cells, he cant help but feel a little smug. He really did well in ensuring this monster would end up in the closest place to hell he could find. During one of the six nights of your absence, Spencer looked into the most notoriously brutal prisons in the country, just so he knew exactly where to send the man that had taken you. Usually, the prisons that serial killers end up in isnt up to the BAU, but being close friends with a tech genius like Penelope Garcia meant that it really wasnt difficult to switch the name of the prison the monster was to be sent to, marking it up as a hitch in the prison data systems. Penelope isnt one for revenge, but her along with the entire team adore you as well as Spencer, and they saw how broken he was without you; knowing what was happening to you because you were the thirteenth victim of the unsub meant everyone wanted the scum dead.

Spencer knew that he wanted to visit him at least once, to put him in his place one last time, within the walls he would be trapped in for the rest of his miserable life. Showing the prison guard his ID, the guard nods at him and lets him into the visitation room, where the monster is waiting for him. Spencer gleefully notices the resemblance between this scene and the first time he had met this man, except this time he’s handcuffed to a table and wearing a prison uniform.

“I had hoped you would be bringing the ever so lovely (Y/N) with you.” The scum chirps, far too thrilled by this situation. Spencer will soon put a stop to that.

“You dont deserve to breathe the same air as her, let alone see her.” Spencer tells him, his voice controlled and quiet as he stands at the opposite side of the table, staring him down.

“That’s a shame, I would’ve adored seeing her reaction to me smiling at her.” The serial killer grins wickedly.

“You’ll never know, because she’s under my protection.” Spencer declares.

“You mean like she was the night I took her?” The monster smirks, thinking he’s got leverage over Spencer.

Although his words sting, Spencer has far more leverage prepared. “I will regret not going into her home that night for the rest of my life, but the fact that you’re here makes both her and I feel a lot better.”

The scum leans towards him. “She will never recover from what I did.”

Spencer walks to the side of the room to glance out of the small window. “And that is the reason you are here.”

The embodiment of evil scoffs, revealing his narcissism further, as if it wasnt already blindingly obvious. “Im here because I killed twelve women and mercilessly beat your girlfriend.”

Spencer is quick to turn on his heel and lean against the wall with his hands in his suit trouser pockets, meeting those beady eyes with a steely gaze. “No, you are in here because (Y/N) is alive. If you had killed her, I would have killed you myself.”

“Oh, is that so?” The murderer tries to laugh off Spencer’s words, but his fear shines through. Handcuffed to a table in a prison as notoriously brutal as this one, Spencer could do whatever he wanted and the guards would turn a blind eye.

“Do you want to know the reasons behind your failure?”

“Please, do tell!” The subhuman is enthralled by any conversation about himself, which is exactly why Spencer approached this new conversation in the way he did; now the bitch has no choice but to listen to him.

The genius takes very slow, casual steps towards him as he talks, glancing around the room as though the topic has little interest to him, further infuriating the prisoner. “You abandoned your M.O and victim pool, you made it personal and left behind your own methods, meaning you were clumsy and made mistakes. Previously, your abductions were in broad daylight, you kept each woman for a week and then raped them and slit their throats, choosing to dump them outside of the high school where you were first rejected by a girl you liked, isnt that right?” He deliberately meets his gaze again upon asking the question.

The killer shuffles uncomfortably.

Spencer continues. “And at one of those crime scenes, you overheard me figuring out the exact cause of your rage, so you decided to make it personal and take (Y/N). Though that mistake could have been fatal for you, the next mistake you made actually saved your life.”

“How so?” The killer asks, trying to hide his shaking legs beneath the table.

Spencer keeps his hands in his pockets as he stands directly beside the man handcuffed to the table, towering over him with unseen authority. “You underestimated her. You thought that cruel words and beating her would be enough to break her, but you were wrong. Because every second she spent with you, she knew that I was coming to get her, she knew that if she made herself more interesting to you then she could buy herself as much time as possible for me and my team to find her. She played you, and she won.” The monster parts his mouth to retort, but Spencer tilts his head and frowns. “Oh, did you think she wouldnt tell me about her pressing you for information about the girl that rejected you, using the kindness and persuasion only (Y/N) possesses to her own advantage, until you started crying and showing her pictures of the girl who never even knew you existed?” Spencer laughs darkly. “You are absolutely pathetic.” He shakes his head and walks back around the table. “You got more than just the girlfriend of an FBI agent when you took (Y/N), and she broke you. You lost, and the whole world knows.” Spencer stops when he reaches the door of the visitation room. “Especially your fellow inmates, who will most likely enjoy making you cry, over and over again, until you are begging them to stop in the same way those women begged you. And just like you, they dont remember the meaning of mercy.” He holds his gaze just long enough to make him squirm, and then he leaves, without giving the subhuman anytime to respond and reinforce his ego, because Spencer knows that will haunt him for the rest of his days.

The drive home, Spencer is sure his car is powered by his own adrenaline. Despite feeling relieved at getting the closure he needed, it isnt until he sees you sitting up on the couch in a cocoon of blankets, hiding everything except your face as you stare at your laptop screen, that Spencer truly relaxes. The chuckle that leaves his lips is so light and joyous, he feels like he’s spent a lifetime with you experiencing nothing but bliss, and the memories of the past hour feel as though they belonged to an ancestor. Kicking off his shoes, Spencer drops his keys to your house on the table, undoes his tie and places it on the back of the couch, before flopping down next to you.

“Cozy, angel?” He asks quietly.

“Mhmm!” She nods excitedly, unable to tear her gaze from the show she’s binging on Netflix.

Spencer laughs at how adorable you are. “Is there room for two in there?”

Only words that lead to cuddles have the tower to break your concentration, you turn to him with a beaming smile and open up your blanket cocoon. “Of course!”

Spencer grins and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his lap and cradling you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and cheek, which you thank him for by returning the kisses to his forehead and cheek. The two of you smile and snuggle up under what is now a blanket mountain rather than a cocoon, and you begin explaining to Spencer what he missed in the last episode of the show that you watched while he was gone.

Because you are returning to normal life, you are feeling safe in your home again, and you will ask Spencer about the visit when you feel like you’re ready to hear it. You are exactly where you belong, so is Spencer, and so is he.

[violenthunted]

this isn’t exactly elle’s scene. yet like in most cases, she plays with the cards she has been dealt with : she is always willing to string along if it means supporting a friend. lo & behold, it was actually her idea to hide in the audience. it started the day she got him talking about the reason why he had been mumbling the same sentence over and over for the last four minutes, and why the same theme of obsessive references had overstayed its welcome. everyone else had been focused on what awaited them once the plane had finished its course. however elle had nothing planned ; she’d party her time away until work called her back. spencer reid, though? he looked strangely worried, which had immediately set off alarms in her mind. the boy always had strange events to attend on the weekend, and elle knew better than to ask. none that would stress him out, though. so elle had asked. and then elle had acted accordingly. hence the red silk dress, the high heels & hair perfectly slicked back. were she to be profiled, femme fatale would be used as the first denominator to fall in the profilers’ lap, uttered both by her confident swagger and her deadly sweet smile. contrary to the genius doctor, greenaway was neither blind nor clueless to her charms.

“i said”, she pointedly tugs on his tie just a little bit harder, as if to push him back into his body & out of his head. then, with the palm of her hand, she smooths it down gently. “you clean up nice, nerd. they’re gonna eat you up.” & clean up nice, he does. it’s been nagging her since that stalker case, with the young actress, the pictures of her boy genius drenched & grinning, the way he held her face in those pictures, how he looked nothing like the lanky kid he presents himself as and how, against all odds, he looked exactly like that kid. (the worst part? not the looking, but the enjoying it. the not minding him being a lanky nerd in mismatched socks) she sees him now, whatever he could be if he stopped hiding in that thick skull of his, just absurdly secure in his own body, no longer wondering if he was allowed any range of motion. “and if they don’t, i’ll just make a scandal so they forget all about you.” wouldn’t be the first time she drunkenly ruins everyone else’s party. elle isn’t exactly known for her tact or her patience, so drinking away her worries & making it everyone else’s problem would be more than on brand for her. “how does that sound?”

@violenthunt﹕ sender  straightens  an  article  of  receiver’s  clothes.

    𝐨𝐧𝐞   𝐨𝐟   𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲   𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬—and   there   were   many—was   to   be   presented   at   this   conference.   with   older   adults   prepped   up   in   their   finest   suits   and   ties,   their   luxurious   fabrics.   professors,   instructors,   researchers,   and   scientists   from   across   the   district   and   more.   spending   their   free   time   in   an   auditorium,   expecting   scrawny   spencer   reid   in   his   one   -   size   -   too   -   big   suit;   not   complete   without   his   mismatched   socks   underneath.   

    this   sort   of   thing   is   not   his   forté,   but   owning   up   to   it   not   being   his   forté   is.   spencer   can   readily   explain   why   it   is   he   feels   this   debilitating   anxiety   when   it   comes   to   speaking   to   a   group   of   people,   afraid   he   won’t   be   taken   seriously.   afraid   the   title   preceding   his   name   will   be   glossed   over,   his   young   face   disregarded,   the   waver   in   his   voice   picked   apart.   it   should   be   easier   than   it   is   because   he’s   rehearsed   this   a   thousand   times.   he   is   better   in   front   of   an   audience   twice   his   age   than   one   which   reflects   his   own.   the   notes   are   bright   and   lucid   inside   his   mind,   the   notecards   he’d   written,   the   expressions   he’d   made   in   front   of   his   bathroom   mirror.   now,   you’d   expect   he   would   be   a   little   more   at   ease,   knowing   his   colleagues   were   there   to   support   him.   friends,   practically   family.   however,   there   is   no   such   thing   as   being   at   ease.   even   now,   with   elle   greenaway’s   red   nails   fixing   his   patterned   tie.   her   voice,   so   distant.   

    “   i’m   sorry.   what   did   you   say?   ”   it’s   genuine,   desperate.   it’s   in   his   eyes,   pleading   she   does   say   something   to   distract   himself.   as   soon   as   the   prior   conference   has   ended,   his   will   begin.   elle   will   smile,   say   something   clever   like   she   always   does,   and   it’d   a   little   better.   right?

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Fear That You’ll Find Out How I’m Imagining You

Summary: For Father Spencer, his life was a simple one: lead his flock in the worship of the Lord. Little he know, a fallen lamb with a breathy whisper of a voice would seep into every waking thought and make him, for the first time since his Calling, question the very vows that restrain him from all Earthly and human pleasures. Who knew the Devil had the face of an Angel and the body of a temptress.

Word Count: around 4700

Content Warnings: Religious themes and references, talk of desire and intimate behaviors, self pleasure (spoken and described, touch of Perv!Spencer, masturbation, touch of innocence kink, heavy themes of priest kink and corruption kink to come

Author’s Note: Welp!! Here it is. The Fleabag-ification of Spencer Reid with a little more spice :). I am kinda proud of how this turned out (I hate to talk about things I’m proud of but I really like this one). I’ve got room on the taglist, but please remember this fic involves heavier/kinkier themes so proceed with caution. Thank you to @reidsbookclub for editing this and giving me a lot of praise 😉

Fear That You’ll Find Out How I’m Imagining You

I suppose it makes sense that the church is my sanctuary, given that I am a priest. There’s something about it that feels like home. From the ornate thurible and the Gothic arches, I am blessed and grateful to have found inner peace within God’s home. The parish, my flock, looks to me for guidance. And I, with the wisdom of the Lord in my heart and head will do my best to follow through on my vow. My vow to the Lord, to refuse any Earthly temptation, all carnal desires that have plagued humanity till the dawn of time. I swore to myself that no flight of fancy, no temptation, no matter how sweet would sway me from the path that I forged. I believed that my Calling to serve the Lord was the greatest force on this Earth and His Heavenly Kingdom.

Yet, I sit now in a bed of my own making. The former Father Spencer Reid, servant of the Lamb of God, is a sinner. But do I regret it? Do I regret tasting Heaven herself? Do I regret feeling salvation in every pore of my body? Do I regret breaking my vow of celibacy on the very altar I once worshiped?

No. Not in the slightest.

If she’s the Devil, then light me up because I’m her only worshiper. If she is sin itself, then I am nothing but a soulless sinner. I’ll love her like the sinful man I am, even if it means my soul is damned to Hell.

I’ll shed the skin of my old life like the snake in the Garden of Eden. I’ll give up the collar I’ve worn in reverence for the Lord for the chance to have her wear my hands like a collar around her neck. I’ll turn my back on the Savior I swore to serve, because she’s my goddess and I’m her only worshiper. Her body, her hips, her lips are the only altar I care to practice at. My hands will marvel at her beauty, wondering how she’s the Devil if she looks like an Angel. I want her bathed in gold, her supple soft skin aching to be caressed by the one man who’s vowed to deny such divine pleasures. Divinity is in her lips, her crimson red, sinful lips that beg to be kissed.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

The words, echoing in my thoughts, bring a self satisfied smile to my lips. My own inner voice isn’t anything compared to the rich timbre of her voice. Though when she said it, I was basked in an euphoria like no other. When she said it, I never wanted to hear it again, unless it slipped from her wine colored lips.

Yet, forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession. I have committed the one act I’ve swore to never let cross my mind. I’ve tasted Heaven. I’ve eaten the Divine, yet forbidden fruit. And I am a guilty man because not an ounce of regret courses through my veins. My heart, my soul, my spirit are all her’s to keep, to cherish, to with as she wishes. She could break my soul in to a million fractured shards of glass. I’d look into the broken pieces of the reflective surface and I’d be gazing into your face. I’d see her soul where I see mine. She could break if she wishes, tarnish what was sparkled with an incandescent glow, because my soul was only her’s to break. I am a sinner. She’s a saint. But the lines, like most things in life, are blurred. You don’t get any absolutes.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have fallen in love with a woman. I’ve tasted the sweet essence of carnal sin on her hips and not even the most miraculous waters of your Divine Kingdom could compare. I won’t deny it, Father, I’ve in my mind all the things I could do with her. No penance will be able to reconcile that I now worship my own personal goddess in the bedroom.

I’m not a claustrophobic man, but spending an entire day in the confessionals threatens to turn me into one. It’s not supposed to be a comfortable room, but my entire body aches from being cramped up in the tiny room. The priest prior to me, Father Simon preferred the more formal setting for the parish confessions. From the ornate carvings, the uncomfortably hard kneelers, and iconography this confessional is nothing but ostentatious.

It’s dark in the small room, but the light pours in through the crack between the doorframe and the door. A decorative piece of stained glass is my only window into the rest of the church, but it’s useless to look through. The glass, ornate like everything else in this building, is a depiction of St. Augustine, a 5th century Bishop who, hundreds and hundreds of years after his death, headed my calling to the Lord. The deep cherry reds, the royal blues, and dark purple pieces of glass catch sunlight as they provide my only form of entertainment as I await the next parishioner. Saturdays during Ordinary Time mean the local sinners feel the urge to repent. They repent. I listen and give them some tasks or prayers to absolve them of their sins.

Reconciliation, as I’ve figured out in my two years at this church, is the least popular Sacrament. I suppose that it’s part of human nature, not wanting to admit wrong doings, especially when only a darkened screen sits between you and your Heavenly maker.

The door on the other side, the parishioner’s side, opens with a creak. The old cherry wood doors give off any kind of movement, telling me that there’s someone on the other side desiring to cleanse their soul. I wait for the person to talk, giving them a moment of silence before we begin.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been 3 years since my last confession,” the bodiless voice says. It’s a man’s voice, probably older than myself given the weathered tone in which he speaks. Again, I wait a beat, letting the silence sit with us. As much as I despise the crampedness of the confessionals, it’s revitalizing the same token.

“Let us start with the Sign of the Cross,” I instruct, raising my hand to my forehead, as I begin, “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen,” I say, my voice echoing in the chamber. I can see an outline of a man through the darkened screen, he kneels before he is ready to atone for his sins.

“You may begin, my brother,” I tell him, “Please confess what you must and hope that you heart and soul will feel a weight lifted off your being,”

The man confesses. His voice shakes as he recounts the people he’s betrayed, hurt, and cursed over the past three years. I listen, nodding my head along, even though the darken screen gives the man his privacy. He continues for some time, speaking about his dependence on alcohol, his emotional neglect of his wife and children, and his desire to be a better father and husband. I can’t offer any personal advice to the topic, as it’s far from my purview, but as he finishes I ask that he joins me in prayer.

“My dear brother,” I tell him, “Let us pray,”

And the cycle continues, parishioner after parishioner. Sinner after sinner. Time seems to stand still while I’m sitting in the dark letting sinners bare their souls for a chance for their maker to forgive them. I want to make a mental note to remember to bring a watch next time I sit for confessions; the hours seem to bleed together without any end in sight.

The door opens again and the light bleeds through the screen. From the silhouette I can tell that my next candidate is a woman. I hear her puttering around in the booth, seemingly not understanding the protocol for this particular rite.

“You’re supposed to be kneeling,” I whisper, hearing her gasp, “Sorry for startling you,” I apologize, “You just sound like you’re not sure what you’re doing,”

“I’m not,” the faceless woman says. Her voice is young, maybe younger than me or around my age. For the first time, I find myself wondering what she looks like. Is her skin as soft as her voice? Are her eyes stormy and mysterious or are they sweet and docile? Is she slim and slender or is her body soft and full of curves? These thoughts trickle into my subconscious and threaten to make my skin crawl.

“Are you here to confess your sins?” I ask, “I will guide you, as a sheppard guides his lamb,” I tell her, the imaginary images of her face popping up in my mind as I speak. I close my eyes, succumbing to total darkness as I force the very thoughts out of my mind. I should be the one on the other side of the confessional, not this woman.

“I’m honestly not even sure why I am here, Father,” the woman whispers into the dark, “I’ve done bad things. But I’m not sure if I regret them. But I’ve never done this before,” I hear the cushion of the kneeler squeak as the woman moves around, probably still uncertain about what she’s doing here in the first place.

“That’s quite alright,” I say, consoling the woman without a face, “I can show you the ropes if you’d like,” I whisper back, terrified that this room isn’t soundproof like promised.

“Do I really have to say ‘Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned’ or is that only in mafia movies?” the woman asks, making me chuckle, despite my usual level of professionalism.

“Raise your hand to your forehead, dear,” I instruct, licking my lips as I continue, “And say, ‘in the name of the Father’,” she repeats after me, following my instructions as I continue, “And now touch your right shoulder and say ‘and the Son,’ and lastly, touch your left shoulder and say ‘and the Holy Spirit, Amen,”’

The woman does as she’s told, her voice but a shaky whisper above my own. I shift in my seat, even more aware of the crampedness of this room. The stained glass, my window the rest of the world and this flimsy, darkened screen the only barrier between me and the sinner before me.

“And now you may say it,” I tell her.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she whispers, and I can hear every time she catches her voice. I can hear a layer of mystery in the way her voice gravels. I’ve never listened to voices like this before, “I-I’m sorry,” she says, the kneeler creaking as she stands suddenly, “I have to go, I’m crazy to do this-”

“Stop,” I say, my voice firm and steady compared to her weary and unsteady one, “Stay where you are. You’re here to confess your sins and you will,” I tell her, wondering if that gulping sound is coming from her or if I’m just imagining it.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, kneeling back down. Through the screened barrier I can see the shadow of her hands. She clasps them tightly like she’s praying. I wonder if she’s ever been in this position before, albeit in less holy ways.

“It’s Father,” I correct, “Father Spencer,” I say, correcting myself, “It’s okay for you to know my name, even if I can’t know your name. It makes it less intimidating,”

“Yes, Father,” she whispers, and if I wasn’t such a pious man I would have sworn there was some sort of curse placed on me the moment those words slipped from her lips. I’ve never seen her lips before, but I know that they are beautiful. I know that she is beautiful, “Father Spencer,” she says, playfully, almost in a teasing tone.

“That’s my name,” I say, for the first time in my entire career, unsure of what to say. I could feel my mind twist over and over, tumbling around searching for the right words to materialize, “What brings you here today?”

“I’m not too sure, Father,” the woman starts, “I saw the church across the street and thought that it looked peaceful. If I’m being truthful, I’m a little embarrassed to tell you,” the adds, the nerves in her voice apparent even though I can’t read her body language through the barrier.

“And why is that? If you don’t regret what you did to someone,” I continue, “Part of this sacred sacrament is feeling a desire to seek forgiveness, if I can be so bold to say, regret is usually people feel,”

“I see,” she says, “It’s just difficult to admit, Father. Considering you are…,” her voice, trailing off into the darkness leads me to fill in the blanks. I look up to the nonexistent clock, wondering for a second how many more parishioners I’ll have to get through before I’m finished. I then give my attention back to the woman on the other side of the screen barrier.

“Considering I’m a priest?” I ask, not completely understanding what she’s implying yet, “I’ll promise you that I’m not what priests typically look like. I have all my hair still, for one thing. And I’m a quite bit younger than what most people imagine when it comes to priests,”

“I know,” she whispers, not giving me enough time to comprehend her implications, “I mean, I googled you. Before I walked into this…”

“Confessional,” I correct, “So you know what I look like? Why did you look me up?” I ask, wondering, despite my peaking interest in this mysteriously intriguing woman, if I’m opening a door that I’m forbidden to even think about.

“Because I was scared. This whole disembodied voice thing is a little creepy, if I could be blunt with you Father,” she tells me, a wry chuckle slipping from my lips before I can stop it, “But that was a mistake. Googling you, I mean. It’s going to make this much harder than I thought,”

“And why is that?” I ask, wondering for myself where this would lead.

“You’re a very attractive man,” she says, “And the sins I’ve committed are of the intimate and carnal nature,” the woman tells me, a hidden raspiness to her voice making me lean forward in the confessional. I fold my hands, linking my fingers together as I wait for her to continue.

It’s a peculiar word, carnal. It originates from Latin, a language that I’m all too familiar with. The word is the kind of word that evokes the feelings that it means exactly. Carnal Natural. The mystery woman, who may have skin softer than silk and eyes more tempting than red wine, is on her knees inches away from me confessing to the very sins I deny myself the pleasure of committing. I may be a pious man, who’s dedicated his life to answering the Lord’s calling. But I’m a man still, a man with desires, deep desires. Desire of a very carnal nature I’m denied.

It’s a bed of my own making I suppose, but I’ll forever crave to share the bed with someone as well.

“I’m only a witness,” I reassure, unsure if it’s more for myself or her, “You’re really confessing to God, I’m but a mere servant,”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Father?” the woman asks, and I swear I can taste the teasing from her lips, “I’ve touched myself,” she reveals, a beat of silence festering between us.

“You mean,” I say, collecting myself as I shift uncomfortably in the chair. It’s hotter than ever in the tiny room and I am intimately aware of the nearly suffocating pants I’m wearing, “You’ve touched yourself in a self-pleasuring way,”

“Yes, Father,” she answers, her silhouette bowing her head in only what I can assume is humiliation and embarrassment, “It felt good so I’ve done it many times. My boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, struggled to make…”

“Climax?” I offer, refusing to conceal the smirk that materializes across my face as I hear the woman’s frazzled stutters, “I’m a human, my dear. And a man, but you did know that already,” I tease, wondering if her cheeks are heating as I continue.

“Father,” she says, her voice strained with guilt and humiliation, “I want to know if I’m headed for damnation? I try to be a good person, to live my life with good rules, even if I’m not a practicing Catholic. But I’m terrified that this makes me a sinner,”

“I don’t think it has to do with you touching yourself,” I tell her, assessing the situation and hoping in all of my bones that I am giving this wildly interesting woman somecomfort, “I think you’re wondering if you’re a good person, is that right?”

“Yes, Father,” she replies, the silence hanging again in the sticky heat of the confessional, “I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time,”

“You’re a good person,” I tell her, “We’re all sinners in the eyes of the Lord, none of us perfect, none of us sweet and Holy as him. But if we strive to do some good in this world, we can seek eternal life in paradise with him,” I say, wondering if these words are empty promises to her, while they are the very essence of life to me.

I don’t reply, letting the words stick to my skin like honey dripping from beehives. I can feel it in the silence that sits between us. Her heavy, labored breathing and fidgeting against the kneel tells me all I need to know. I’m suddenly filled with an urge to comfort her in a way that blurs the lines like never before. I hardly know this woman; not her name or age, not what she looks like or what she does for a living.

I’ve never felt a desire for a woman this strong in years. I hardly know her, yet I’m overwhelmed with a desire to wipe the tears from her face that I’m sure fall onto the kneeler. I want to brush my fingers across her undoubtedly soft skin and kiss away the things that eat away at her heart. We’re strangers, yet there’s something pulling me towards her, making me question everything I’ve accepted with faithful endeavor.

“Thank you, Father,” she whispers. She shuffles around in the confessional, perhaps searching for her belongings in the dark, still unnerved from the nature of our conversation. She’s quiet, not speaking another word as she exits the confessional. The light seeps into her side of the confessional when she opens the door, reminding me that, in fact, there’s an outside world beyond these walls.

Even though I’m not supposed to, I throw the door open, unsure myself of what exactly I intend to do. The woman from the confession dashes out of the church down the aisle like a runaway bride. I’m tempted to stop her, but I’m not even sure I want to do that in the first place. I’ve already crossed the line, the blurry gray line that’s holding me back from my human desires.

I’m a lucky man, it turns out. Because when she left I not only got a glimpse at her, but my mystery woman left something behind: a perfume-stained handkerchief.

After my encounter with the woman in the confessional, I’ve tried nearly everything to get her out of my mind. I failed. There was something about the breathy way she spoke, the earnestness in her voice when she asked for a kind of forgiveness that even she didn’t know if she wanted. Days later, I would still find myself imagining what she looked like and, like most things, it leads to thoughts that slowly become clouded with forbidden thoughts.

I had a life before I entered the Seminary. A life of a man with desires of the carnal nature. When the woman in the confessional gave her penance about touching herself, I knew exactly what she was talking about. I knew the way that her body would twist and arch with a burning pleasure like no other. I knew the way that she’d bite her lip in an attempt to stifle her moans. I knew the way that she’d do it again and again, seeking the same pleasure over and over.

For years, I’ve restrained myself. I’ve denied myself the sinful pleasures that humans crave. I gave up the life I once led to serve the Lord as a faithful, pious man. But, at the end of the day, aren’t I just a man? Aren’t I a man with desires? Aren’t I a man who could find a woman, who’s voice is nothing but a godless call to the pits of Hell. But if her voice, her breathy, earnest, sweet voice is the song of Hell, then the Devil himself can hand me the hymnal because I'll be singing her praises.

I can hear her voice echoing in my thoughts, encouraging me as my hands unfasten my belt. My black pants fall to my knees, leaving me in my collared shirt and underwear. I should have realized that thinking about this woman would have had this effect on my body and my mind. Perhaps it’s because I’ve denied myself these pleasures for so long that the anticipation is bound to be more intense.

I think of her voice and how soft her hands must be as I pull my hardened erection from my underwear, slowly starting to touch myself with a tight grip. Her breathy voice, airy and Heavenly fills my mind. It’s like the kind of sweet perfume that's so stifling all you can think about is the way it makes you dizzy. As I stroke my cock, I’m plagued with the thoughts of this woman’s perfume. Her handkerchief is buried deep into my pocket, burning a hole through my skin as I go throughout my days.

Moving up and down with my hand on my cock, I imagine she’s kneeling before me, not unlike she was in the confessional. I bring the handkerchief to my nose, breathing in her smell as if I was burying my nose into her neck. Of the glimpse I got of her skin, I know she’s soft and pliant. I think of her breathy, helpless tones as they flutter in my mind. I’ve never seen her face, her lips, her eyes, yet I know I want to see what she’d look like with my cock in her mouth. I wonder if her eyes would flutter with pleasure as I stroked my fingers against her cheek? Would she touch herself while she took me in her mouth, aching to bring herself to the very temptatious climax she confessed to me on her knees days ago?

Groaning, the thoughts and images and sounds flutter in my head, desperately untamed and Hell-bound. I’ve only heard her voice and it’s like I can imagine the way her body would writhe under my touch. I wonder if I ever treated her like she deserves. I curse myself for being the man that’s forbidden by his maker to bring that sinful pleasure to her lips, her body, her mind.

My collar is tight against my next, choking me like an all knowing vice. I feel my blood boil as my hand continues to pleasure myself, wondering how it would feel with a much smaller, much softer, much more angelic hand bringing me to the brink. Or her mouth, wet and warm, taking me in whole with her eyes daring me to proceed. I groan at the thought of watching my dick slip in and out, disappearing in her tight cunt. It’s almost like I can hear the breathless, uncontrolled moans slipping from her perfect lips.

My thoughts, sinful and laden with guilt, thought of what she’d look like on her knees for me, without a screen barrier dividing us. My hands wanted to cover her skin, touching her in places that I’ve vowed to never touch. I wanted to bring her the very pleasure that I’ve restrained myself from. I want to feel how Heavenly soft her thighs would feel as they wrapped around my head like a vice. Not even the Holiest chalice with the Blessed Wine could compare to her taste. I’ve never even feasted on her yet and I’m already desperate for more. My hands and thoughts grow more and more restless….and remorseless as I continue to stroke my length.

If she was sitting before me, I’d tear her clothes from her begging body, touching her and bringing her enough pleasure to confess her sins for a lifetime. No part of her would go unkissed, untouched, unloved. I’d worship her like she’s the most divine altar, because she’s the most precious offering.

I feel heat grow in my stomach and rise throughout my entire being. It’s like all the cells in my body are on fire. I’ve done this before, I’m a man, a human with desires, but it’s never been like this.

I feel everything slip from my metaphorical grip. I throw my reservations to the wind in an attempt to chase my release. If I close my eyes tight enough it’s like I can imagine her hand bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I wonder if she’d give it to me without teasing, or if she’d like to deny me over and over, watching my stony exterior crumble. I’d let her destroy me, I’d like her to ruin me over and over if I’d get a taste of her sweetness in return. They say that the Devil is a terrifying, imposing figure of pure fire, yet as I close my eyes I can only see a Heaven-sent angel. Her lips, rosy and tempting. Her hips, marked with mouth. Her soul, bared and vulnerable, a perfect match to mine.

“Fuck,” I groaned as I finished into my hand. The sweet echoes of voice ricocheting in my head.

My cheeks, flushed with a mixture of humiliation and fervent need, burn a fiery red. My lips, bitten from keeping my moans silent, are swollen and nearly bloodied from the pressure. Her touchless touch dirtied my soul. It unleashed a carnal nature in me. My hand is slick with my release, yet I continue stroking beyond my climax. I don’t have a name to call out in pleasure, but God seems to be inappropriate for a plethora of reasons. Yet, her name would be the sweetest thing to cross my lips, and I’ll be damned if I could never hear her scream mine, even if it will turn me into a godless, Hell-damned man.

I sit there, forehead shining with sweat and pants around my ankles. A smile, sinful and proud forms across my face. Grinning like the Devil, I think I finally understand what the woman in the confessional meant by not regretting it.

THANK YOU FOR READING: SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS HERE! | TAGLIST -> JOIN |

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[reidsaurora]

"The Office Party" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Y/N's boyfriend suddenly breaks up with her and she no longer has a date to the office New Year's Eve party, she employs Spencer Reid to be her fake boyfriend for a night.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2,207

Content Warning: sexual humor/references, alcohol consumption

Genre: Fluff, Colleagues to Lovers, Fake Dating

Extra Notes: Y/L/N = your last name

Based On the Prompts: "Neither Person A or Person B have a date for the annual office party, so they must go with each other."

Features the One-Liner: "Hold my hand." "I don't wanna hold your hand." "Well, suck it up, you have to."

Originally Written: 12/29/2021

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

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It was the day before New Year's Eve and the NCAVC was abuzz over the end of the year party. Every year, they'd throw an office party in Quantico for New Year's Eve and all the agents would ring in the new year together.

Normally, I'd be fine with that. I'd be going with my boyfriend of two years and I'd have a wonderful time.

Except he'd broken up with me over our Thanksgiving break by announcing he'd cheated on me. Last time I trust two Vi-CAP agents when they say they're "just friends."

No one really knew of our relationship, so that was a plus. I'd gone to the party with him the previous two years, but always said we were "just friends" and that my real boyfriend didn't work at the FBI.

I hadn't had the heart yet to tell anyone we'd broken up. No one really believed that I had a boyfriend anyway though. Derek had his suspicions that I was making up the fact that I had a boyfriend, while Penelope thought I was secretly dating someone from the NCAVC, she just didn't know who.

I was currently at my desk, pondering the thought of who I could take as my date. Sure, I could've gone alone, but I knew I was subject to certain comments if I showed up without a date.

"Y/N," I heard, awakening me from my trance.

I looked up to see Spencer Reid, who was holding some files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Oh, hey, Spencer," I replied.

"You seem tense," he mentioned, sitting down in the chair beside me.

"Just worried about the party tomorrow," I told him.

"Why?"

"Well, it's New Year's Eve. The holidays are always a stressful time for me."

He didn't seem to believe me, considering his next statement was, "Are you sure that's the only thing?"

"No need to profile me."

His expression changed from curious to sad, like I'd upset him by saying this.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I'm just a little panicked because I don't have a date for the party this year."

"I've never gone with a date."

That's when quite possibly the most genius, brilliant, and slightly cynical idea came into my mind.

"Reid, how would you like to change that?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is there any way I can employ you to pretend to be my boyfriend?"

He looked at me with a puzzled face, as if I hadn't spoken to him in plain English.

I repeated my question, "Reid, how would you like to be my boyfriend for a night? Just for the party. Just long enough to get Morgan and Garcia off my back."

He avoided my question by quickly speaking, "Did you know that 'new car smell' is actually a combination of over fifty scents?"

"Reid -"

"Did you know that one third of adults still sleep with a comfort item?"

"Reid -"

"Did you know th-"

"Spencer!" I slightly shouted, knowing if I was any louder, it would attract attention. "Please. Just one night."

Hesitantly, he gave in. "Fine, I'll do it. But just for the party."

☆☆☆

[ the next day ]

"How do I look?" Spencer asked as he emerged from his bedroom.

"You look very nice," I answered.

"Is there any specific reason you came over and ransacked my closet?" he questioned shyly.

"Well, if we wanna make it believable, we should match. Hence why your shirt is the same color as my dress."

"Yeah, by the way, this tie isn't my favorite. Do you think I could -"

Before he could finish his sentence, I was leading him into his bedroom to find a new tie. I looked over his tie collection, noticing his eyes landing on a gold tie with navy blue polka dots.

Without saying anything, I began untying the tie around his neck.

"I can tie my own tie," he stated.

"I know, but it's more couple-like if I do it," I said.

He didn't say anything in response, he just stood silently as I fastened his new tie.

"Now, are you ready to go?" I asked.

He simply nodded in response.

☆☆☆

"OK, hold my hand, please," I asked him as we walked up to the entrance.

"Did you know there's more pathogens shared in a handshake than in a kiss?" he explained.

"Then kiss me as soon as we walk through those doors."

He sounded slightly frightened when he replied, "I think I'll stick with holding your hand."

I sighed, sitting down on the steps. "I think I went about this the wrong way. I'm sorry for coming on too strong," I apologized.

He sat down next to me, his long legs extending an extra step lower than mine. "It's OK. I know you're nervous."

I shot him a thankful smile in response.

We sat in silence for a moment. Not an awkward silence, it was actually very comfortable.

"Well, are you ready to go in?" he asked, standing back up.

"Yes," I answered. "I still need you to hold my hand, though."

"I don't wanna hold your hand," he pouted, though it seemed more like he was joking.

"Well, too bad. You have to," I giggled.

I took a deep breath as we walked in, entwining my fingers around Spencer's. He seemed nervous when we first walked in, but his nerves seemed to have faded away when I grabbed his hand.

The two of us casually strolled over to the refreshments table, only letting go of each other to grab some drinks.

"Holy -"

"Crap," Derek finished Penelope's statement.

I turned to see the two with dumbfounded expressions. I assumed they were each other's dates, seeing as they too were wearing matching outfits.

"Happy New Year's Eve," I smiled, linking arms with Spencer, who stayed quiet.

"Uh, same to you," Derek said as he attempted to turn on his heels and leave.

"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Hot Chocolate. You owe me twenty bucks," Penelope said, stopping him in his tracks.

Spencer finally spoke up. "You two place bets on the love lives of your co-workers?"

"Just her," Penelope answered, taking the twenty dollar bill.

The two walked off, arm-in-arm, similar to me and Spencer. Garcia had a smug expression while Morgan had a defeated expression.

"That went well," I said, my voice laced with a giggle.

☆☆☆

"Quick, it's my ex!" I whisper shouted at Spencer.

"That Vi-CAP agent?" Spencer asked, a confused look across his face.

"Yes, now, come on!"

And that was how Spencer and I found ourselves hiding out in the round table room.

Every couple minutes, I'd peek out the window to see if he'd left, but he just kept on standing there with his date, his new girl.

I couldn't lie, I think part of me was relieved when he told me he was breaking up with me. After everything he'd put me through, I think I was ready for a break.

"I can't believe you were with Agent Perez. I mean, he's such a dirtbag. He flirts with all the women in the office, not to mention, he cheated on you with Agent King who, in my opinion, is nowhere near as great a person as you."

I was a little stunned by his short rant. Even though he only knew my side of the story, he pretty much had the whole thing correct. I had to admit, I was a little jealous of how well he could read people.

"It's OK, Spencer," I sighed.

"No, it's not. He treated you like you were disposable, like you were an old garbage bag he could throw away," he argued.

"I'm OK, Spencer, really. I've actually enjoyed being by myself the past couple days," I admitted.

Just then, we heard a knock on the door, which was weird because I had assumed no one noticed we'd left the party.

"Y/L/N, Reid, you guys in here?" Derek asked through the door.

"Uh, go away, we're…" I panicked, looking at Spencer to see if he had an excuse.

"Having sex!" Spencer shouted in a panic, his face cringing immediately afterward.

I could hear a smirk in Derek's voice as he walked away, saying, "My man!"

I breathed a sigh of relief, though I was nervous for what Derek might say when we went back to the party.

"That should buy a few minutes," Spencer stated.

I chuckled before replying, "OK, but if anyone asks, you're the top."

"What?"

"Never mind," I laughed.

I stood up, walking over to the window to see if my ex was gone. Sure enough, he and King had walked away, or at least out of my line of vision.

"Hey, they're gone," I said, looking over at Spencer.

"OK," he replied, "Maybe we should stay in here for a few extra minutes. Just to be sure."

☆☆☆

There were only two more minutes left until the new year began and the countdown was on. Everyone was gathered around a TV, watching the New York ball drop.

"So, two minutes until a new year," Spencer said, attempting to make small talk with me.

"Yep," I nodded. "I'm excited, though. I think I'm really gonna enjoy this year."

"Are you planning on making any New Year's resolutions?" he asked.

"I hadn't really thought about it. Why?"

"Statistics show that 46% of people are successful in continuing their resolutions after the first six months."

"And you shared this with me because?" I asked.

"Because that's almost half of the people who made resolutions. I figured that would be encouraging to you since it's a pretty big portion of people who were successful."

I gave him a thankful grin, appreciative of his words.

"Did you know that the average amount of champagne drank on New Year's Eve is over 360 million glasses?"

I held up my glass of champagne awkwardly before toasting, "Cheers."

He held up his nearly empty glass and nodded. He took the last drink before asking, "Did you know that the Times Square ball is estimated to weigh 11,875 pounds?"

"Reid, I've never seen you share this many statistics at one time. Well, actually there was one time, when you were attempting to flirt with that really pretty cop in Philadelphia."

It was after I said the word "flirt" that I realized what he was doing. Reid couldn't have been flirting with me, could he?

I mean, I'd had a small crush on him when I first started working at the BAU, but soon after, I met my ex and the rest was history. Plus, me and Spencer were both newbies at the time, so we were both attempting to navigate through our new life. Spencer didn't seem too interested in a relationship at any point, but especially not in the beginning when I was interested.

He didn't say anything in response, he just turned back to the TV, noticing there was only ten seconds left. "Well, ten seconds," he said with an awkward smile.

Everyone in the office started chanting along with the TV. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" everyone shouted.

I glanced around the room, seeing everyone sharing kisses with their dates. Except for Morgan and Garcia, he was kissing her on the head.

"Happy N-"

I was cut off by the feeling of someone's lips placed on mine. But it wasn't just anyone's lips, it was Spencer's.

His hands were placed on my cheeks and his eyelashes were so long, I could've sworn I felt them brush against my skin. My hands reacted by flying up to his elbows, almost as if I was holding his arms where they were.

He pulled away, moving his hands to my lower back. He delicately kissed my forehead, which prompted me to lean into his chest afterward.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I figured you'd wanna blend in, since everyone else was kissing."

"It's OK, don't apologize. I enjoyed it," I smiled into his chest.

After a few seconds, I leaned back to look up at him.

"Did you know 50% of Americans plan ahead of time who their New Year's kiss is going to be?" he asked, a nervous expression on his face.

"And I'm assuming you were part of that 50% tonight?"

"Only as of about an hour ago," he admitted.

"What are the statistics on how likely someone is to go back in for a second kiss?" I questioned.

"I'm not sure."

"What are the statistics on how likely you'd be to go back in for a second kiss?"

"Pretty high," he smiled shyly.

And with that, I leaned back up to kiss him again, him meeting me halfway. His lips were plump, and he tasted like champagne. I felt as though I could recall more about the second kiss because I wasn't as off-guard as the first time.

"What about you, smart boy? You got any New Year's resolutions?" I asked, biting my lip to hide my smile.

"Just one," he answered, moving a strand of hair out of my face.

"Oh, yeah, what is it?"

"To be able to kiss you like that whenever I want."

"Well, I've got a statistic for you, pretty boy. There's about a 99% chance of me accepting."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

[spencersfunkysocks]

of words hushed and whispered

In which Emily overhears a conversation not meant for her, and she's left trying to figure out what it means.

Hello, everyone! I am back with the first part of what is going to be a series! Each part is going to feature a different member of the BAU-team going “Shit, these two are in love” all the while Hotch and Spencer are painfully oblivious to each other’s feelings.

Thank you to @gaelic-symphony​ for beta-reading <3

wc: 1.4k cw: references to child abduction + murder, but no details tags: emotional h/c, set some time during season 4/5

part 1 of “to overcome and love someone” [part 2] read it also on ao3!

Emily could feel the airplane gently shaking around her as it rose up to the sky, the city lights on the ground growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

She sighed as she settled into her seat and looked out the window, letting her eyes linger on the clouds for a moment.

It had been a tough case, which was why the plane was almost eerily quiet tonight. Usually, the team would chat for a little while before everyone retreated back into their favourite spot to work on files or, more often than not, get some much-needed sleep.

Today, though, there was only silence.

Yes, they had been able to find the unsub before he could take another child's life, Derek tackling him to the ground just as he was about to put the knife in his hand to use. But three children's lives had been lost nonetheless, and another had been traumatized for life.

Children's cases were always the most difficult, and they had gotten significantly harder since Jack and Henry had been born.

Emily could feel a wave of exhaustion roll over her, and as she looked over to the seat opposite of her, she found JJ already fast asleep, using her blazer as a makeshift blanket.

In the softness of the airplane lights, Emily could see the dark circles underneath JJ’s eyes — proof of sleepless nights lost to Henry and work. And yet, she still looked beautiful, an aura of youth and kindness surrounding her always.

Emily smiled. How blessed she was to have her in her life.

As her eyelids grew heavier, she copied JJ and grabbed her own jacket lying in the empty seat beside her, pulling it up to her neck in an attempt to keep out the cold air the air-conditioning was blasting into her face.

Almost as soon as she closed her eyes she fell into a slumber, the humming of the airplane-engine providing her with the perfect amount of white noise.

-

The quiet whispering of hushed voices pulled her out of her dreams, and it took her a moment to realize where she was.

A quick glance around the plane revealed that everyone else seemed to be sleeping — JJ hadn't moved a bit, Rossi's head was slumped against the window on the other side of the aisle, and Derek had laid down on the sofa in the far back of the plane. The sound of his snoring was the only proof that he was in fact still alive.

Still, someone was talking. As Emily closed her eyes and focused on the voices, she realized that it was Hotch and Spencer.

The two had sat down behind her, and from the sound of it, they were in the seats right next to each other.

"I shouldn't," Hotch said, and Emily's ears perked up immediately.

Because they were whispering, it was hard to make out what they were saying as it were.

But Hotch had uttered those words so softly, so full of vulnerability, that Emily almost hadn't recognized that it was him.

'What is this about?', she wondered, but Spencer's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I don't think he would be mad if you did."

Mad? Who were they talking about?

"Yes, but he's got school tomorrow, and it's already way past his bedtime. It's fine. I will see him tomorrow."

'Ah,' Emily realized. Of course. Cases involving children always had Hotch worked up — he spoke less and frowned more, if that was even possible.

"You're his father. He loves you. And years from now he will look back and remember all the times you called him just to tell him that you love h—"

"Reid." Hotch had used his "boss"-voice, shutting Spencer up immediately. Emily could almost see the face she knew he was most likely pulling right now, his lips a straight line with his eyebrows raised high. It meant everything from "Told you so!" to "I'm sorry."

Right now, it probably meant the latter.

Spencer confirmed her suspicions.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cross a line." Even though he was whispering, his voice sounded strong and sincere. Spencer never lied, after all.

There was a moment of silence before Hotch answered.

"No, I'm sorry. I know you were only trying to help."

Emily was glad that neither of them were able to see her right now, because she couldn't help her mouth fall open.

 Aaron Hotchner had just apologized.

Was she still dreaming?

She heard someone shuffle in his seat before Spencer spoke up once more.

"You should try and get some sleep. So you can be well-rested for him tomorrow morning."

Hotch let out a sigh in response.

"And forgive me for possibly saying too much, but he knows,” Spencer continued, “Jack knows that his dad loves him, Aaron."

Emily could barely hold in a gasp.

"Thank you, Spencer. I appreciate it."

Only silence followed afterwards, and the conversation seemed to be over.

Emily was trying her hardest to uphold her seemingly calm exterior, but on the inside, her wheels were turning as she had more questions than answers.

Had Hotch actually just called Reid 'Spencer'? In her time in the BAU, she hadn't once heard Hotch refer to anyone by their first name unless they were close to dying, much less to thank them.

And the softness with which Reid had offered parenting advice, exhibiting a tactfulness he usually lacked...

Did this mean that they were an item?

Emily shook her head at the idea.

There was no way that something like this could have happened without a room full of profilers noticing. Hotch would have probably been able to hide it, his stoic expression not even faltering when he was seriously injured.

But Reid? He could try and hide behind science and logic all he wanted — at the end of the day, he wore his heart on his sleeve. Emily would have known that something was up if he were actually having an affair with their boss.

A shudder came over her.

There was that, too.

Hotch was their boss, and having any sort of relationship with him would violate all sorts of FBI fraternization rules, on top of the unethical power imbalance it would imply. She could picture Spencer citing them all to explain just how bad of an idea dating your boss truly was. It nearly made her chuckle.

But the more she thought about it, the less ridiculous it seemed.

Yes, Spencer was Hotch's subordinate. But if you worked together as closely as the BAU did, the lines between work and personal life quickly started to blur. Spencer was Henry's godfather after all, and the team regularly met at Rossi's for dinner get-togethers.

On top of that, there was the sudden realization that Hotch had grown softer recently — towards Spencer, that was. He still treated the rest of the team like the drill sergeant that he was, but there was more leniency for Reid.

He was allowed to ramble more, and one time she had overheard Hotch asking him about a particular statistic he had mentioned earlier. It had also happened once that Hotch had all but ordered Reid to let Hotch drive him home after falling asleep at his desk.

It didn't seem like much, but for Hotch? He couldn't have been more obviously playing favourites.

And that didn't even take into account the fact that Reid was gay. He wasn't open about it, but as Emily liked to say, it takes one to know one.

It hit her then that these last few months, she had found Reid staring at their boss more times than what would be considered a normal amount — the same way she had been staring at JJ.

 Fuck.

That meant that Reid was in it for good.

She no longer felt tired; her mind was buzzing with a million thoughts.

As wrong as it felt to admit, a tiny part of her was convinced that there might actually be something between these two.

The question was whether they were aware of it, and if they were, whether they were ever going to act on it (and if she wanted them to).

She needed someone to talk this through with, someone she knew could keep a secret from both Hotch and Spencer.

Opposite of her, JJ let out a tiny snore, and Emily felt a tug at her heart.

Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, she would pay her a visit in her office.

tagging @gettingrailedbyreid​ ✨

[yourmidnightlover]

mini matchmaker

Summary: spencer's daughter takes a liking to their new neighbor and notices spencer might like her just as much.

TW: absolute fluff, dad!spencer, fem!artist!reader, maybe a swear word? idk, kissing, PINING lol, spencer's mischievous daughter. *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 9,121

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, so i apologize to those who requested this fic. i also had season 10/11 spencer in mind when creating this, just as a time reference. anywho, i hope you all enjoy this belated fic!

————————————————————————

the apartment across from spencer's had been empty for around 6 months when he saw you were moving in. you were beautiful, he couldn't deny that. you had sweat that made your face glisten in the dim light of the apartment complex as you carried a box of what seemed to be, he looked inside for a millisecond, books. loads and loads of books in a box you were very obviously struggling to finish carrying despite the fact that you had only just entered the building.

"hi-" he motioned to get your attention.

"hey?" you questioned, probably trying to figure out if you knew this strange man.

"sorry- i um- i live in the building," he explained with a chuckle right before his little girl ran up and hid behind his leg upon seeing you. "hey, sweetheart," he greeted his daughter, you assumed. "right, sorry. i was wondering if i could help you carry that?" he offered politely, not trying to make it seem as though you were incapable.

"are you sure?" you rested the box on your knee so you could catch your breath as he nodded eagerly. "umm, sure. careful, though. it's a bit-" you handed it to him and watched as he held it with ease. you rose your eyebrows in surprise for a moment.

"this one," he motioned to the little girl who was no longer hiding behind his leg, "always liked being held. it's quite the workout," you smiled, he wanted to see more of that in the future. what is he saying? he's just helping a stranger. that's all.

"i suppose that does make sense," you nodded along. "would you mind if i grabbed another box and then we went on our way?"

"oh, sure. go ahead," he smiled before his little girl spoke up:

"can i help, too?" she asked, looking up with pleading eyes that you just could never say no to.

"of course you can help, sweetie," you grinned as the little girl clapped.

"my name's evangeline but friends call me evie. you call me evie," she informed you as you began walking to your car, her dad following close behind. "my dad is spencer walter reid. he works for fbi."

"wow," you mused for the little girl. "the fbi?" the girl nodded with a big smile as you handed her a small box full of canvases. "that's really cool, isn't it?" you looked up at spencer with a smile he knew only his little girl could bring out - merely because that's the same smile he has with his daughter and his daughter only.

"yea! but he's gone a lot. i miss him sometimes," the little girl bit her lip gently before continuing. "but he catches bad guys so it's alright, i guess," she shrugged as the three of you began the trek to your apartment.

"so what i'm hearing is that he's like a superhero?" you added with animation in your voice, noticing the way she perked up at the thought.

"i never thought that way! dad's a superhero!" spencer felt his heart clench, in the best way while hearing his daughter talk so highly of him.

"the only thing he needs now is a cape, huh?" the two of you laughed at the thought, spencer following the two of you as you went onto the fourth floor - spencer's floor.

"dad would look silly in a cape," she laughed once more while looking back at her father with a smile that took over her face.

"ehh, i'm sure he'd be able to pull it off," you looked back at him with a look, a look that gave spencer... hope? hope for what? he wasn't sure yet.

maybe you had felt that attraction within your first interaction. maybe you just thought he was good-looking. maybe you were just playing along with his daughter's silly fantasy.

what he does know is that his little evie has never opened up to someone so easily. while she hasn't fully opened up yet, she already told you to call her evie. only three people call her evie - spencer, obviously, and her two closest friends. now you're added to that small list.

"alright," you announced, pulling a key from your short's pocket after setting down the box. "this is me," you stuck the key inside and pushed the door open.

"hey!" evie spoke up. "she lives across from us, daddy!" she turned around to face him with such joy he hasn't seen in a while.

"lucky us, isn't that right, evie?" he played along, noticing the smile you gave when you turned back around to face them.

"thank you guys, really," you said as they placed the boxes down on the floor. "i probably would've dropped all of those the second i started walking upstairs," you directed towards spencer. his daughter took a step back, allowing the two of you to get a bit closer to each other.

"oh, that's no problem, truly," his lips twitched upward as he fought a smile that would overtake his face. "do you need help with the rest of your things?" he offered, secretly just trying to spend more time with you.

"the rest are coming in a van tomorrow, i believe," you informed him before adding. "if you'd wanna help out then, that's totally appreciated."

"yea-yes. that would be - i can definitely do that," he stuttered with a chuckle.

"so, would either of you like anything to drink or a snack? i don't have much yet but i do have," you opened your fridge, "lemonade and brownies?" you looked over to gauge their reactions, seeing evie's face light up.

"please, daddy? just one brownie?" she pulled softly on his shirt, who was he to say no?

"sure, pumpkin," he chuckled once more. "we can stay for a bit."

"oh great! my first gathering!" you clapped as you brought the lemonade out of the fridge, using some biodegradable paper cups to pour it into and using the same kind of paper plates for the brownies. "i made these last night because it was the only food i was able to make and i didn't feel like going down to my car to get my wallet," you laughed as you sat them down on the island, motioning for spencer and evie to take a seat on the bar stools.

"thank you," evie thanked happily before taking a big bite of her brownie.

"yes, thank you," spencer agreed as he took one himself.

"so, what exactly is it that you do, spencer?" you asked after taking a couple bites of a brownie.

"i'm a profiler for the behavioral analysis unit of the fbi," he began. "i basically psycho-analyze 'bad guys' and help put them behind bars with the profiles we create based off of the information we gather from crime scenes and witnesses."

"wow, that sounds really interesting," you wanted him to go on, to tell you more about himself.

"it is! you can tell a lot about a person from just their body language alone, imagine the things you could figure out with their actions and the people they've been around!" he excitedly announced.

"what can you tell from my body language?" you asked, sitting up straight to allow him to analyze you.

"i can tell," he looked at your body, trying not to look too hard since his daughter was with him, "i can tell that you're pretty open with your life, minus a few people and things you like to keep hidden. you're not very nervous around new people, so you've probably been raised around or with a lot of people. and you're clearly good with kids so i'm assuming you might've had a younger sibling while growing up," he said nonchalantly.

"ding ding ding!" you laughed, that same giggle spreading to evie. "you're very correct."

"ehh," he shrugged. "i try. so what do you do?" he asked, trying to change the subject from off of himself.

"i'm an artist," you swallowed into yourself upon revealing.

spencer partially understood why. most of the time, artists are looked down on and ridiculed unless they're famous. but spencer would never do that to you. he guesses it's just because you wouldn't want him to get the wrong impression of yourself before he got to know you.

"now that's interesting. how'd you get into art?" he asked you to delve into it, he wasn't shutting you down.

"oh," you grinned the slightest bit, if spencer weren't paying attention he would've missed it. "i've loved art since i was 10. it's not really a special story; i just found it intriguing, i guess," you shrugged.

"i would say persuing a career in art takes a lot of skill and talent and determination. i admire you for that," he smiled. you could tell he truly wasn't trying to diminish your career or hobby - he just truly thought it was fascinating.

"maybe i could show you my work sometime?" you offered, taking spencer relatively off-guard.  most of the artists he's met were very closed off with their work, understandably so.

"sure, i'd love that," he nodded his head with a smile.

"all done!" evie cheered as she began sipping her lemonade. "it was very good miss... i don't know your name!" she giggled.

"y/n. my name is y/n y/l/n," you informed them both.

"i can't believe i didn't ask you that," spencer mentally slapped himself. "i'm so sorry."

"oh, don't be! we could always just blame the 'dad brain,'" you waved it off with a laugh, bringing a smile to both spencer's and evie's face.

the rest of the night was full of giggles and jokes - dad jokes included, only they were made by you. he had told you about his gifts and 'genius,' and you told him about your own high school experience, how you had never gotten a prom and were quite the nerd. you would've talked all night with one another if evie hadn't been falling asleep in your lap. spencer only realized once he entered his apartment after him and evie bid you a-due that you had snuck him your phone number into his pocket.

***-***-**** y/n y/l/n for emergencies or anything else :)

spencer smiled and automatically texted you, saying he got your note and to thank you once again for the brownies and lemonade.

you had frequently ran into each other after that night over the span of 3 weeks before spending more time together - this time at spencer's place. the story behind how it happened was a bit... interesting, to say the least.

"hey, dad~," evie sang as she poked her head into spencer's office with a devious grin.

"yes, pumpkin?" he turned to see her face, clearly up to something. "what is it?" he squinted his eyes.

"i may have invited miss y/n to dinner over here tonight," she smiled innocently at her dad.

"what? why? when? why?" he asked, clearly frazzled.

"because i like miss y/n. haven't seen her since we met, so i knocked on her door and asked if she was busy tonight before inviting her over," she shrugged as if nothing had happened.

"what time is she coming over?" he asked.

"i told her 7."

he checked his watch: 5:45.

"i suppose we could figure something out for dinner. but next time," he added, "please let me know before you do something so mischievous."

"yes, sir," she smiled before walking out of his office.

spencer felt his phone vibrate:

y/n: hey, i don't know if you sent evie over to tell me, but she invited me to dinner tonight at your place?

spencer: yes. she missed you and wanted to have an excuse to see you again.

y/n: she doesn't need an excuse! she - and yourself - are welcome over anytime!

spencer: i'm sure evie would love to hear that, as am i :)

y/n: so, dinner at 7?

spencer: yes. i'm not very versed in the kitchen, however, so just be prepared when you begin eating.

y/n: if you need help cooking i'd be glad to help. i've been cooking almost as long as i've been painting lol

spencer: sure, i could use all the help i could get!

five minutes later you showed up at his door. he opened it with a gleaming smile and stepped aside to let you in.

you helped him cook dinner - by helped he means you took the reins. he truly can't cook. but that's alright, he's too busy catching the bad guys anyway. when you ate and let evie know that she was welcome at your place, anytime, she felt the need to jump in your lap and thank you nonstop in the form of hugs and kisses. you grinned and relished in the affection of the young child, loving how loved you felt by her.

"oh my gosh!" the little girl exclaimed. "can we have princess parties?" you nodded. "what about sleepovers?" you nodded once more with a chuckle.

"as long as dad's alright with having them on the weekends then i'm alright with it," you tightened your grip around the little girl as she snuggled into your chest; you rested your head on her chin and closed your eyes, taking in the innocence and wholesomeness of the moment

you didn't even notice spencer wiping the tears from his eyes at the sight. he had been worried that his little girl wouldn't have a strong female presence in her life in spite of his family at the bau. he just wanted the best for her. he wanted her to have a balanced life. and he started to worry close to when you came along. he was worried that he wouldn't be enough for his little girl, but seeing her open up to you and ease into her life was something he didn't know he needed so bad.

"daddy?" his little girl looked over to see his glossed over eyes. "why you crying?"

"i'm just happy, sweetheart," he wiped the tears once more with a smile adorning his face.

"let's move the hug! hugs make you feel happy!" she exclaimed excitedly. once again, he couldn't say no to his little princess.

little evie hopped off your lap and trudged over to spencer, looking back to see you were still sitting in your seat.

"miss y/n, come over and hug daddy!" she shouted as her hands went around her father's neck.

soon enough, you made your way across the table. spencer stood up to make evie's request easier, her latched onto him like a leech. you had your arms snaked behind his back, his around yours and envies shoulders. rested his chin atop your head as he turned to plant a kiss on evie's cheek.

and spencer knew he never wanted you out of his life in that moment. evie needed you. and whether or not he'd admit it, he needed you.

as it turns out, that little number you gave him for emergencies - even though it wasn't always used for emergencies, he just really like talking to you - actually came in handy for him.

"hey, y/n," his voice rang over the phone as you wiped your hands on an old towel you cut for scraps.

"hi, is there something you need? you're at work?" you asked as you placed the caps on all of your paints.

"i know, and i hate to ask this," he took a deep breath. "evie got sick at school and i can't pick her up yet, we're in the middle of apprehending an unsub. would you mind picking her up for me?"

"oh, of course i can," you agreed. "are you letting them know i'm picking her up?"

"yes, i will," he nodded even though you couldn't see him. "thank you so much, y/n. you have no idea how much yo-this means to me."

"spencer, it's truly not a problem," you reminded him. "i love evie."

"thank you. oh! and there's a key in the brick that's the third up from the floor, five bricks to the right of the door. that way you can give her some medicine, if you don't mind?" he added hastily.

"third up, five right, medicine according to symptoms which i'm assuming are in the bathroom cabinet?" you guessed.

"ding ding ding," he recalled from your first encounter, making you blush, regardless of his eidetic memory.

"alrighty. i'll race to the school, within the legal limit," you corrected.

"sounds good," he let out a sigh. "and y/n?"

"hmm?"

"thank you."

when spencer got home, he had assumed you went back to your place since evie was used to being by herself - he wasn't proud of it, but a father had to work. but when he slowly entered evie's room to check on her, he swore he stopped breathing for three minutes.

you were lying on your back with evie resting on your chest, a book askew on the bed as if you had been reading her a story. your arms were wrapped around her body protectively as she was cuddled into your entire presence as tight as she would go. you looked just as angelic in your sleep as you did while awake - if not, even more so beautiful.

spencer's shuffling awoke you, your eyes slowly opened to see spencer smiling down at the two of you.

"hi," you whispered.

"hi," he whispered back before you carefully maneuvered around evie to stand up, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"sorry i kinda fell asleep here," you rubbed the back of your neck, feeling nervous.

"don't be. i'm glad you were here," he added.

"her fever has gone down since i gave her the medicine and i ran the two of us over to my apartment to grab a can of soup. i heated it up quickly and then i washed the pot i used as well as the bowl and spoon. she was a bit fussy so i read to her until we both fell asleep," you told him as he bent down to place a kiss on evie's forehead.

"you're amazing, y/n," he smiled, being sincere in his wording.

"ehh," you brushed it off. "it's all in a day's work," you chuckled lightly as the two of you made your way out of her room.

"you're so great with her," he awed as he carefully shut her door.

"she's an amazing kid. you're raising an incredible young girl, spencer," you rebutted as he sat on the couch, motioning for you to join him.

"thank you," he smiled. "she's my everything. when her mom left i- sorry, you don't want to hear about that," he chuckled humorlessly.

"hey," you placed a hand on his knee. "i do want to hear about that. you can talk to me."

"it's just..." he thought about the right words to say. "when she left us, evie was only one. she doesn't even remember what she looks like. now evie is 6 and she's reaching a point in life where she just wants to know who her mom is and i don't know how to tell her that she left."

"what happened, if you don't mind me asking?" you added, scooting a bit closer to him so you could hear him more clearly.

"she felt as though we were tying her down and that she lost herself, so she went off to find herself. i thought she'd be back within a few months but eventually i just lost hope. i have no idea where she is now and frankly i don't care anymore," he said the last part as if he felt guilty about it.

"it's alright to not care. she left an amazing man and daughter. if it were me, i'd never let either of you go, spence," you added, squeezing his thigh softly. "evie - and yourself - deserve a person who would be all-in. i guess this woman couldn't do that."

"thank you," you wiped a stray tear from his face as he let his hand rest atop yours.

"thank you," you chuckled softly.

spencer searched your eyes for a hint of affection found in his as well. he slowly let his eyes flicker to your lips and found you leaning into him. he let his hand find your face as he inched his face closer to yours before the sound of a door opening jolted the two of you apart.

"daddy? you're home now?" evie questioned as she held onto her blankie.

"yes, pumpkin," he turned to face evie. "daddy's home now."

"i missed you," she grossed over to him, crawling into his lap and laying her head on his thighs, her legs laying over your own.

"i missed you, too, bug," he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "how're you feeling?" he asked as he brushed her hair from her face.

"better. y/n made soup and gave medicine and read a book to me," she threw the blanket over her legs and nuzzled into spencer's lap.

"that's very sweet of her," he looked over at you, who was massaging her legs softly while keeping your eyes on spencer. "you seem tired, bug. you wanna go to bed?"

"nooo," she whined. "i wanna snuggle with you 'n' y/n," she argued.

"i think y/n wants to sleep in her own bed," spencer tried to reason with his daughter.

"please y/n? i'll love you forever 'n' ever 'n' ever?" she pleaded with you. how could you say no?

"alright, as long as daddy's alright with it," you looked towards him for approval, seeing his smile was approval enough.

"yayy!" the little girl exclaimed as her dad scooped her up and carried her to his room.

"y/n, you don't have to if it would make you uncomfortable," he offered.

"it's alright. i promise," you placed a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder.

so the three of you snuggled into the king size bed. evie placed herself between you and spencer, resting her head on your chest and throwing her arms over her father's torso.

spencer went to sleep being lulled by the two of yours' breathing. it was his new favorite lullaby and made him realize how grateful he was for his eidetic memory.

when he awoke, the three of you were in an entirely new position. evangeline was on his right side, snuggled into his chest as you were on his left, your arms wrapped around his torso tightly. your leg was thrown over one of his own, and he was able to feel your breath hit his skin. his arm was wrapped around the two girls by his side, and he found himself stroking the soft skin on your shoulder mindlessly.

he didn't know how this position was brought upon during sleep, but, frankly, he didn't care. he just knew he didn't want it to end. and that dream, like all others, did come to an end. you shuffled in your sleep, letting spencer know that you were about to wake up. but he didn't care. he kept his arm around you, and he kept his finger dancing across your skin in motion.

"g'morning," you grumbled into his skin before nuzzling yourself further into his warmth, clearly still not fully awake.

"morning," he chuckled softly before you looked up at him slowly, a questioning look on your face.

"how did we...?" you asked in reference to the new sleeping arrangements.

"i think we can safely blame this one," he nodded towards evie, who was still knocked out.

"i'm so tired," you grumbled before tightening your grip on spencer and moving your face into his neck. "oh my god," you pulled back once realizing what you were doing. "i'm so sorry. i shouldn't- you're probably so uncomfortable and i-"

"hey," he interrupted you. "you can go back to sleep. i don't mind. in fact, i like the company," of course he knew what to say to make you feel better.

"are you sure? i don't want to impose..." you trailed off, your features slightly softening.

"of course, i'm sure. now come here," you rewrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his neck proudly this time.

evie smiled to herself, knowing her devious plan to get the two of you to cuddle has worked. surely, there was something she could do to make the two of you realize you liked each other.

after that, sleepovers at spencer's were quite frequent - not that any of you minded. you all enjoyed each other's company.

there was one time you were watching evie on a saturday when spencer had to go to work and evie had told you he forgot his lunch - which he actually did. so you naturally brought her with you to drop off his lunch. you grabbed the tupperware and placed it in a brown biodegradable paper bag and threw in one of your brownies before making your way to his office.

you walked in with the food in one hand and evie in another. spencer looked up and swore he saw an angel. you carrying his daughter in such a... maternal and caring way made it all so personal. and when you approached him he lost all hope.

"silly dad forgot his lunch," you chuckled while placing it on his desk, leaning in to whisper, "i put a little treat in there, too."

"... and who is this with miss evangeline today?" morgan smiled upon seeing you carrying the little girl on your hip.

"y/n! she's the bestest!" evies arms around your neck tightened in a hug, which you reciprocated.

"y/n?" morgan looked towards spencer, who had eyes wider than he'd seen in a long time. "as in 'neighbor y/n?'" he questioned; you nodded. "spencer speaks highly of you. especially how good your hair sme-" spencer nudged morgan in his stomach, eliciting a laugh from both you and the girl in your arms.

"his hair smells good too, y'know - and it's really soft," you added, sending spencer a smile that made him blush even more than he already was. and then you left with a smile. spencer's gaze fell upon you exiting the doors.

"pretty boy, just tell her how you feel. she clearly likes you too," morgan urged him.

"i don't think it's just 'like' anymore, morgan," he sighed before turning back to his work.

"even more of a reason to tell her, kid," he reminded him with a pat on the back.

"you saw how good she was with evie. i can't be selfish with her. evie needs her too and if i mess things up and ruin it..." spencer trailed off, his mind going into a foggy place.

"i don't think she's the type to just walk out on you, reid. from that interaction alone, it seems as though the two of you are on the same page that neither of you want to read," morgan summed up before heading over to his desk, leaving a very distraught spencer to his thoughts.

a couple of months later, you now having lived in the apartment for 7 months, evie's birthday was arriving. the little girl talked and cheered about it nonstop. she had invited you to her party two months in advance, wanting to ensure that you'd be there.

"what should i get evie for her birthday, spence?" you questioned as you ate ice cream on his couch, your legs thrown over his own as he sat beside you.

"she'd love anything from you," he reminded you, his hands tracing patterns on your bare skin.

"but i want her to actually enjoy it," you scooped another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth as you pouted.

"she has been talking about wanting to redo her bedroom. she says she needs it 'more grownup now,'" he rolled his eyes with a scoff. "she's getting so big right before my eyes. i just want her to know how much i love her, y'know? i would do anything for her."

"she knows that, spencer. i guarantee you she knows," you leaned up a bit more so you could lean your head on his shoulder after discarding the bowl on the coffee table. "you're one of the best father's a girl could ask for. she tells me all the time how much she loves you," you wrapped one arm into the crook of his elbow.

"thank you, y/n," he sniffled. "it's hard raising her alone. i know i have the team, but having a mother... it's different," you used your free arm to wipe the tears from his face.

"i'm sorry she doesn't have that, yet. but maybe you'll find someone to play that role for her? just someone to be a role model that she could talk to would really help," you turned your face towards his shoulder, pressing a gentle, barely-there kiss.

"would - can she... would you be willing to be that role model?" he asked softly. "just to be there for her? i know it might be a bit much to ask, but you already get on so well with her and i figured that-"

"of course i will, spence," you laughed before wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms going to your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

you buried your face into his neck and allowed your hands to play with his hair softly. the moment felt so domestic and right that you didn't want it to end.

"idea!" you exclaimed, pulling back from his embrace but remaining in his lap.

"what is it?" his eyes went wide with surprise and anticipation.

"we - you and i - could redo her room!" you offered, hands finding their rightful place on his shoulders.

"that's a lot to ask of you, y/n," he tried to reason, you not having any of it.

"nonsense," you rolled your eyes. "i just got my work admitted into a new gallery so i'm all clear. and i can even make some of the decor and the color pallet and she could help us!"

you seemed so excited about the thought of bringing a smile to his little girl's face he felt as though he couldn't say no - not that he would've anyway.

"why didn't you tell me about your work before?" he asked a bit surprised. "that's amazing, y/n!"

"it's not a big deal," you shrugged, trying to hide the blush rising in your cheeks. "besides, evie needs your full focus."

"i know..." he solemnly agreed. "maybe we could all go to the gallery opening?"

"really?" you asked, your eyebrows shooting up in excitement.

"if you'll have us," you answered by wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.

"i'd love it if you came," you whispered in his ear.

once you told evie the plan to redo her room, she was more excited than ever. she had told you the colors she wanted, which actually went well together, and let you know the theme of the room. she wanted it to be mature, so it was obviously a lavender purple and white theme with nude accents and flowers.

once she told you the theme and colors, it was up to spencer and you to finish everything with one another. you painted her walls white, one accent wall being lavender, and hung up paintings, by you, on the wall. you strung up fairy lights in the corner of her room and got her a white vanity with a hollywood style mirror. there were pictures on the shelves that were of you, spencer, and herself. the bed was upgraded and you bought her a new comforter, lavender with nude and white splotches.

you did all of this while she was at jj's before her party. when you arrived at said party, the little girl was already hyped up on sugar and sitting on spencer's shoulders happily.

"y/n!" she yelled as she pat her dad's head to get his attention.

"y/n!" spencer greeted you. "i'm so glad you could make it!" he announced as he made his way closer to you.

"please," you rolled your eyes. "i wouldn't have missed this for the world."

"can i give her a hug, daddy?" she asked; spencer put her down quickly, allowing the hyper little girl to run to your side.

"hi!" she wrapped her arms around your legs tightly as your hands went to her back before you bent down to get a better angle.

"happy birthday, sweet girl," you pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"thanks, y/n!" she jumped back to give you a kiss on your cheek.

"your birthday gift is back at the house, alright?" you announced as you rubbed her arms soothingly.

"alright! you should meet my friends!" she requested before dragging you by your hand over to, who she announced to be, henry, jack, micheal, and hank.

"why, hello, gentleman," you greeted them with a smile.

"are you uncle spencer's girlfriend?" henry spoke up, a grin playing on his face.

you looked over to where spencer had been standing, making eye contact with him and deciding to give him a wave. he did a slight blush before waving back, biting his lip gently.

"no," you sighed. "i'm not uncle spencer's girlfriend."

"henry, michael," you heard a woman speak, her voice approaching the cluster of kids as well as yourself. "are you two..." she trailed off as she realized you were with the children.

"hi," you gave her a smile and an awkward wave as you stood up.

"hi," she gave you an award winning grin, extending her hand to shake which you gladly took. "i'm jj."

"oh! yes!" you exclaimed. "spence told me about you a couple times."

"spence?"

"yea, spencer?" you corrected, seeing the smile that grew wider from your explanation.

"i uh- i know spencer," she chuckled. "so, you are...?"

"oh right, of course. i'm so sorry!" you laughed before finishing, "my name is y/n."

"so you're y/n," a grin grew on her face at the reveal.

"umm, yes?" you chuckled softly, brows furrowing in confusion for a second until she continued to fill you in.

"spencer speaks very highly of you," she informed you, noticing the slight blush that dawned your cheeks after.

"oh, he's too sweet," you brushed the compliment off quickly.

"y/n!" you turned to see spencer walking with morgan, the man you met at his office. "i want you to officially meet derek morgan," he smiled as you took his hand and shook it.

"hi," you smiled before a group of other people crowded around the four of you.

after his team made their rounds of meeting you, shaking your hand, and a few embarrassing spencer by telling you how he always talks about you - although you found it endearing - the birthday party was almost over.

"hey, sweet girl," you called to evie. "i'm gonna get going and set up your gift, alright?"

"aww," she pouted. "i don't want you to go!"

"you'll see me later, sweetie," you reminded her, brushing some strands of unruly hair behind her ear.

"fine! i'll let you leave," she granted you. "but!" she interrupted herself, "you have to tell daddy bye, too."

"alright, i'll tell daddy bye, too," you laughed before granting her wish and telling spencer goodbye, giving him a tight hug before strolling out to your car and driving to their apartment.

you were putting the final touches of her room together when you heard spencer's voice to alert you of their presence.

"daddy, is y/n still here? i want to see her again!" you heard her voice echoing through the apartment.

"i think she's still here, bug. wanna go find her?" he asked in an excited voice before you heard little footsteps padding through the hallway. "hellooo?" she asked when she began to open the door.

"surprise!" you shouted when she opened the door all the way.

"y/n?" her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened. "it looks awesome!" she hasn't even fully taken in the room before she wrapped her arms around your shoulders.

you picked her up and rested her on your hip, allowing her to actually observe the room. it seemed as though she actually loved it. spencer leaned on the hallway wall as you gave the girl a tour of her new room. his heart swelled upon seeing his two favorite girls bonding - yet again.

"hey, bug," spencer knocked on the door. "do you like it?"

"so, so much!" she exclaimed. "it's so amazing daddy!"

"y/n did great, didn't she?" he chuckled once she hopped off your hip and ran to his own.

"this is the best birthday ever," she hugged his neck tightly.

when spencer met your eyes, evie's arms still wrapped around his neck, he mouthed a "thank you," to which you just shrugged it off. your humility was beyond him. you just delivered his daughter the best birthday ever and you acted as if it were an everyday occurrence.

"y'know what would make it even better?" she pulled back to look at both of you. "a giant fort!"

"i'm game," you nodded along, the both of you girls looking at spencer for approval.

"i mean, it is your birthday," he agreed before setting evie down and letting her run into the living room. "you... you're amazing."

"all in a day's work," you shoved his shoulder gently.

"seriously, y/n," he whispered. "thank you so much," he slowly walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"thank you," you turned. "without you evie wouldn't even be in my life," you let him rest his face in your neck, soaking in your scent as you did the same to his shoulder.

evie already had half of the fort done when you and spencer made it to the living room. she made yours and spencer's job much easier. evie was a very creative mind, which reminded spencer of you. he knows you aren't actually evie's mom, but she's more like you than she is her birth mother.

"now we have to sleep in it!" she yelled as she placed the last blanket in place.

"lower your voice, bug," spencer laughed as he nodded his head.

"y/n, you have to sleep in it, too!" she practically ordered.

"evie, let's ask nicely, alright?" spencer tried to reason.

"y/n," she huffed. "would you please stay the night in the fort with daddy and me?"

"of course i will, sweet girl," you wrapped her in your arms and pressed a kiss to her hairline.

you each crawled into the fort. evie had set your place beside spencer and hers beside her dad, spencer being in the middle. there was only one large quilt inside for the three of you to scrunch into, meaning you all had to purposely cuddle with one another.

you managed to wind up with your head laying on spencer's chest, evie clinging to his side as his arms draped over the both of you. spencer had imagined how her birthday would go, normally they involved evie asking where her mom was and where she went. today, she didn't even say her name. it's as if you mesmerized her to forget how sad her mom leaving was to her. you filled the missing aspect in their quaint little family, the final piece in the puzzle that was relations. and spencer didn't want that puzzle to become messy again.

when the gallery that your paintings were featured in finally opened, you let spencer know. i mean, he wanted to know anyway. he was extremely excited. so excited, in fact, that he felt the need to pick you up and swing you around as if you were a princess or something. you didn't mind it - it felt nice to get recognition, for once.

"we're here," you announced as you pulled into the vip parking space.

"wow," he observed the outside of the chic building. "it looks so beautiful and modern."

"that's because it is," you added. "once the company bought it, they completely redid the entire place. it was perfectly gorgeous as it's own, antique shop. part of me feels bad about them redoing it. it's like they just tore down a piece of history."

"maybe now they're making the history?" he offered a new way to observe it.

"i suppose that's not a bad way to look at it," you shrugged, smiling over at him before you both got out.

once you both entered, your elegant red dress standing out perfectly amongst the art connoisseurs, all eyes were on you and him - spencer knew it was only because he was with you. he was honored that you took him with you - although evie was a bit peeved she didn't get to go, she was proud that the two of you would get some alone time together.

you showed him where your paintings were on display, and held onto his arm tightly as if he would float away. he truly liked your art. he could tell you put yourself and emotion into it; you made it your own in a way others might be able to understand your captivating mind.

"so," spencer started as you moved on from your own displays and onto other's. "what made you want to begin painting?"

"expression," you put, simply. "i tried writing and that didn't work out, music was just... not my forte, but when i got my first set of pastels from my great grandma i just... knew? if that makes sense? i guess i was just a really odd ten year old," you chuckled.

"it does make sense," he clarified.

"my parents didn't really support my decision to make art for a living," you solemnly announced. "they just wanted what was best for me, and arts and entertainment can be very risky."

"do they support it now?" he asked, wanting to know how someone couldn't love and support someone as bewitching as yourself.

"they're... stubborn," you reiterated. "i told them about the gallery and they just told me how 'it won't last' and 'i need to find a way to truly support myself'," you sighed. "it's alright though. i've been on my own for a while."

"but being supported doesn't hurt," he reminded you. "and you aren't on your own anymore. you have me and evie."

"yea?" he nodded, catching the tear you didn't know fell from your eye.

"you look beautiful tonight, if i haven't already told you," he smiled.

"thank you, spence," you squeezed his hand before continuing with the exhibit.

once you made it past a couple of the other artists works, you managed to circle back to where yours was. you noticed a few people gathered around your paintings.

"y/n," someone read from your canvas. "this man is truly talented."

"actually," you spoke up, releasing spencer's hand. "i'm a girl."

"you're y/n?" the man turned to face you, looking you up and down.

"yup," you popped the p.

"well, then," he chuckled before extending his hand for you to shake. "if your mind is that amazing i'd love to get to know the girl it belongs to."

"charming, much?" you laughed as you let your hand retreat back to your side.

"when i find a girl with as beautiful a mind as her appearance i feel the need to be that," he announced happily.

spencer hadn't even thought of the fact that you might want to be with someone else. surely, it made sense. a girl as captivating and brilliant as you is ought to have a bit of a fan base. but, still, he wanted you to himself.

you left that night with the man's, noah, number. at least that was all you left with. spencer found himself sulking in his seat as you drove back to the apartment complex, just thinking about how he could win you all to himself - not that you're just a prize. you're everything.

luckily, the anniversary of your move-in came, and evie felt that it was necessary to celebrate. so, in evie-like-fashion, she asked her dad to celebrate with you. the celebration she was thinking about involved the two of you dressing up very nice and having dinner at her dad's place while she spent the night at auntie jj's.

he had even gotten rossi to help him make the dinner for you. by this point, everyone on the team had known about 'neighbor y/n' and how spencer felt for you. he was even able to capture a few heartwarming videos and pictures of you and evie and the three of you together, all of which radiating domesticity. everyone felt as though he should tell you. it was obvious that he should tell you, and he planned on it.

when he opened his door to you standing there in the most beautiful dress he swore he'd ever seen - probably just because of who it was on - he lost all train of thought.

"i- you... wow," he awed at your presence before snapping out of it and allowing you to come in.

"you look dashing, spence," you smiled as he wrapped his arms around you.

"you look... indescribable, clearly, since i can't seem to form the words," he chuckled.

"thank you," you smiled as you pulled back, flattening out the fabric before finally observing the room.

there were candles lit everywhere, the lights were off, and rose petals led into the dining room. the ambiance seemed like it came straight from a movie.

"what is this?" you turned to see him biting back a grin.

"this," he held out his arm, which you gladly took as he led you down the rose-petal path. "is your prom."

in the dining room were big ballon letters that read PROM. twinkling lights shone around the perimeter of the room along with the scattered candles.

"spencer..." you observed the enchanting room even further. "you did this?" you felt your eyes well with tears at the thoughtfulness.

"hey, hey," he chuckled. "don't cry," he wiped the tears from your cheeks; you grabbed his hands and turned to press a kiss to his palm.

"this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," you smiled as he pressed his forehead into yours.

"the night is young," he whispered before stepping back and pulling out your chair, which you accepted and thanked him for.

"how did you even manage all of this?" you asked as he took his own seat.

"you remember garcia? the technical analyst i told you about?" you nodded. "she is very familiar with this kind of... stuff. so she came over before you did and helped set it all up. evie was really the one who had the idea to celebrate, but the prom theme was my own."

"you're amazing," you grinned. "i don't even know what to say... 'thank you' just doesn't cover it."

"you don't have to say anything," he offered. "i think this is a well earned celebration. at least for everything you've done for evie and me."

"still, i just... thank you," you reached your hand out, which he gladly took in his own before revealing the dinner.

"i had rossi-"

"rich italian?" you asked.

"yes, him," he chuckled before continuing as you took a bite of pasta. "i had him help make the dinner. i didn't want it to be inedible so i figured he was the way to go."

"he was, indeed," you added before taking another bite.

after dinner was over, spencer had turned on some soft jazz music.

"y/n," he offered his hand to you. "may i have this dance?"

"of course," you placed your hand in his which he guided to his shoulder, your other hand going on the shoulder opposite while his found your waist, pulling you closer to him.

you rest your head against his chest as your arms moved to wrap around his neck, listening to the sound of his heartbeat become synchronized with your own. he rested his head on yours and breathed in the scent of your skin, never wanting the aroma to fade.

"thank you for this, spence," you whispered against his suit.

"thank you for being here," he reiterated, his hands stroking your back gently.

"i really love it here. it just feels right," you added. "i read this article that said everything in the universe is made of star dust. so... by using that theory, when two people are made up of the dust from the same star, they're soulmates. they're only complete when they've found one another."

"please, don't leave," spencer requested, pulling back slightly to observe your confused facial expression.

"why would i leave, spencer?" you brought your hands up to his face, cupping it gently and staring deep into his eyes. "i love here."

"you won't leave here?" he asked.

"i'm in love with here, spence," you giggled.

"here's in love with you, too," he whispered, pressing your forehead against his own.

"the 'here' we’re talking about is you, right?" you pulled back once more before he nodded enthusiastically.

"i'm in love with you," he corrected before connecting your lips to his, his hands on your waist pulling you as close as humanly possible.

your hands trailed to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as you sighed into his mouth.

"i love you," you pressed a kiss to his nose.

when evie had returned the next morning, the candles had all been burned out and the balloons were deflated. she walked into spencer's bedroom and saw the two of you laying on his bed, cuddled into one another. you had even changed into a pair of her dad's clothes to fall asleep in! her plan had worked.

what wasn't a part of her plan made her very upset, however.

spencer and you had been official for about 11 months now. evie was totally used to you being around, constantly, and she loved it! she loved spending time with you and all of your tea parties with her dad.

"may i have two cubes of sugar, miss y/n?" evie asked politely in a posh accent.

"of course you may, princess evie," you responded in the same accent and dropped two cubes into her cup of tea (of course it was real tea. what were you? peasants?).

"thank you, very much," she nodded and stirred the tea, accidentally spilling the hot liquid over her dress and into her lap. "oww!!" she exclaimed.

"oh gosh!" spencer worried before you jumped into action, like you always had.

"evie, it's alright," you quickly picked her up and ran her to the bathroom, setting her on the sink and getting a washcloth wet with cold water. "i'm gonna put this on the burn, alright, sweetie?" she nodded before you wiped the tears from her eyes.

"feels nice," she pouted as she waited on the counter.

"i know, right?" you chuckled. "i was super clumsy when i was your age so i really had to get used to burns like this, but i was never as tough as you just were," you complimented.

"really?" she perked up, sniffling and wiping her nose before you handed her a tissue, a small 'thank you' leaving her lips.

"yes, really," you nodded along, not aware of spencer standing outside the door in case you needed him. "there weren't nearly as many tears as i've had over burns like this. you're one tough princess, princess," you added, making her giggle.

"thanks, mommy," she didn't even realize what she had said until it was out. by then, the tears started flowing even more.

spencer was debating coming inside to console the girl, but let you take control of the situation.

"what is it, sweet girl? it's alright," you stroked the back of her head as she cried into your shirt.

"i did-didn't mean to call you that," she sniffled. "please don't lea-leave us. i don't want you to go away, too,” she begged, you felt tears well in your own eyes at the mere thought.

"princess," you pulled back to look into her eyes. "i will never, ever leave you. i love you and your dad so, so, so much that i could never leave."

"do ya promise?" she asked, her small hands wiping the tears from your face and making you chuckle.

"i pinky promise," you offered her your pinky, which she wrapped her tiny finger around.

"so you're not mad i called you 'mommy?'" she asked concerned.

"absolutely not," you corrected her with a smile, booping her nose gently.

"can i start calling you that now? i've been thinking about it but didn't know if you'd let me," the girl shrugged.

"have you talked to your dad about it?" she nodded. "then of course you can call me that. now how about we go check on dad, yea?" you asked.

"yea," she sniffled one last time before placing the washcloth on the sink and jumping into your arms.

you hadn't even taken five steps outside of the bathroom before spencer wrapped his arms around the two of you.

"i love you so much," he whispered.

"we love you," evie pressed a kiss to her dad's cheek.

"y/n," spencer pulled back and got onto one knee, pulling something out of his back pocket. "this isn't exactly how i planned for this to go, but just hearing how devoted you are to my family - our family... i can't wait to ask any longer. since i first saw you when you were moving into the building, i felt drawn to you. even evie knew how i felt bout you before i did, and i'm so sorry we wasted so much time. let's not waste any more. you're my star dust. y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?"

"of course i will you beautiful genius!" you pulled him up before he even put the ring on you and pressed your lips to his, evie's hands clapping and cheering.

"wait," spencer pulled back. "the ring," he laughed as he took the ring from the box.

"oh right," you giggled as he placed it on your finger, pressing his lips to yours once more.

and neither of you knew how much the mini matchmaker made possible in your lives. but surely enough, the two of you had come together to form a complete star.

*******

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@spenxerslut

@spencerreid9

@spencyreidpls

@spencerreid9

@spencersmagic

@calm-and-doctor

@the-local-pendeja

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment!

[letarasstuff]

“Daddy, I don’t feel so good.”

(A/N): This is definitely not a Marvel reference. Nope.

Summary: The youngest Reid got sick, but the babysitter can’t come. Spencer has no other chance than to bring her into the office.

Warnings: Except for talking about sickness (nothing graphic) and medicine none.

Wordcount: 1.2k

✨Masterlist✨

_____________________________

Spencer would never call himself a helicopter parent. Of course he protects his daughter and worries about her pretty much all the time, though he tries to keep it to a reasonable amount.

But a few words can make his world stop.

He woke her up a few minutes ago to get her ready for school. (Y/N) always needs one or two moments to get to herself in the morning, so Spencer let her stay in bed for the time being. That’s why he is confused to hear the sound of little feet paddling on the floor earlier than usual.

“Baby, are you ok?” he asks her after picking the little girl up. When she mutters six little words he immediately kisses her forehead to measure her temperature.

“Daddy I don’t feel so good.”

“I can only imagine. Seems like you got a fever, bug. What about your tummy?” Spencer goes into mother hen mode almost immediately. Waiting for (Y/N)’s answer he sets her on the kitchen counter and rummages through the cabinets for medicine.

“It feels a little funny. And my nose hurts and I can’t breath through it. My throat is itchy”, she explains, her voice sounding nasal.

“Here, take this, it will make you feel better in no time. You can’t go to kindergarten today and the babysitter isn’t able to come in on such short notice. I think you have to visit daddy at work. Do you want to visit me at work?”

(Y/N) claps her hands in excitement and nods her head rapidly.

A little later a disheveled Spencer and a slicked (Y/N) on his hip enter the bullpen. She has her blue little backpack on her Auntie Pen gifted her last christmas.

The doctor’s first trip is to Hotch’s office. He knocks on his door softly, waiting for the “Come in”.

“Hey Hotch, uh (Y/N) got sick overnight and nobody was able to watch her. Is it ok for her to spend the day here today? I will take a sick day tomorrow, but there is this important paperwork I have to finish”, Spencer over-explains.

“Hi Uncle Hotch!” The little girl exclaims tiredly. The medicine begins to work, making her a bit loopy.

“Hey (Y/N)”, he smiles at her, “It’s not a problem, Reid, as long as she is not a distraction.”

At this both men know who is meant: The whole team. But you can’t blame them, Reid’s daughter is too adorable for her own good.

After a brief “thank you” Spencer goes to his desk, setting his girl beside him in a chair.

“Sweetheart, I need you to stay here and be quiet, ok? You got your entertainment with you, do you?”

“Yes daddy!” Then she pulls out several pencil cases and a coloring book, keeping herself occupied.

One after the other the rest of the team arrive at the scene. Each of them greets the little family, swooning over (Y/N), but are also worried over her flushed cheeks and red nose. Especially JJ has a look on her face that can only be described as Momma Bear.

“Do you need anything, Honey? I’m pretty sure I got some nice tea in my office. And a blanket. I’ll get them for you. Do you need anything, Spence? Will gets off early today, he wanted to watch some movies with the boys, I’m sure he won’t mind watching over (Y/N)”, she offers.

“Thank you, but we got everything situated. (Y/N) has her favorite blanket with her, I have a travel mug prepared with her favorite tea and I got medicine with me for her. Her backpack is filled with books, coloring books and pencils, her stuffed sloth she got from Morgan and I downloaded a few movies and shows on my phone as well as some audiobooks. We are prepared for anything.”

Spencer is certain he thought everything through. That he counted every possible scenario in and that there is nothing he doesn't have a plan for. But there is one thing he completely forgot:

His daughter gets extremely clingy when she is either tired or sick. At the moment, she is both.

“Daddy, can we cuddle? Professor Curie feels lonely.” To emphasize her point (Y/N) holds her stuffed sloth up. Only a child of Spencer’s would be nerdy enough to name her toy after an accomplished female scientist.

“Baby, I have to work. When we get home we can cuddle as long as Professor Curie wants. How does that sound?” The doctor looks down at her, which is his biggest mistake, because he is met by her big puppy dog eyes. Prentiss often half heartedly jokes she got not only her brains from him, but also this look.

With a sigh Spencer gives in. He pushes his chair a bit back and picks (Y/N) up from hers. The doctor sets her down on his lap and drapes the TARDIS patterned blanket he couldn’t resist buying her over her back. The little girl’s head lays on his chest, listening to his heart beat, which makes her fall asleep.

A while later - Spencer is totally engrossed in his paperwork - Penelope enters the bullpen after hearing her favorite Reid is here today. She absolutely isn’t prepared for the scene she is greeted by:

(Y/N) snores softly, her fist balling into Spencer's sweater vest and her stuffed animal is dangerously close to falling down.

“Spencer Reid, I don’t know why you didn’t tell me my favorite human being, no offence Chocolate Thunder, visits the bureau, but I can’t even be mad at you at this picture of pure cuteness and innocence”, she says in an accusatory tone.

“I’m sorry, Garcia, but (Y/N) got sick overnight and I didn’t know where to go with her since I got this important paperwork to fill out”, Spencer excuses himself, running a hand through his messy hair. He is happy that his daughter isn’t super difficult to handle when she is sick. Still he feels more stressed than ever.

“No offence taken”, Morgan mumbles, looking at his goddaughter.

“No problem, Boy Wonder. When she wakes up, tell Wonder Baby her Aunt Penelope loves her and hopes she gets better soon.”

A couple mugs of coffee later, which are brought to him by his best friend, Spencer gently and carefully packs up both his and his daughter’s belongings before setting her on his hip, cautious to not wake her up. He says his goodbyes to his colleagues, getting a few promises to come visit both of them over the next days to help him out a bit.

“Daddy? Are we going home and cuddle?” (YN) asks sleepily. Her father’s heart melts at her small voice.

“Yes, we are. Do you want some chicken noodle soup later, baby?”

“Only if we eat Jell-O for dessert.”

“Of course, bug.”

[behindyourbarrette]

lucky strike

summary: A surprise, way too many mentions of bowling balls, and dumb luck.

pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

category: established relationship, fluff, like so much fluff

a/n: hope you enjoy! this could be Like You A Latte a reader but it works as a stand alone established relationship too :) if you liked REBLOG it helps me out a ton, you know the drill! <3 also i need to stop fucking writing about jell-o i stg

“Do you ever wish our dates were more, uh, special?”

You look up to find Spencer peering into his ice cream, far too contemplative for Rocky Road. It’s a quiet Friday night in Quantico, a rare occasion indeed, and you’ve just taken a walk around the park. To be frank, you’re just happy that Spencer is home, and with you. Where you go and what you do is of little importance.

“What do you mean? Isn’t this special?”

You link your arm in his. He stutters, and you avert your gaze to lessen the pressure on him.

“No, it’s always special! I just see couples out on cases and wonder if I’m not doing enough. We’ve never had, like, a candlelit dinner. Or gone to a concert. Or an escape room.”

“Who on Earth goes to an escape room as a date?” You ask, already laughing.

His face turns somber, and he shakes his head. You get the feeling that maybe the escape room he’s referring to went badly.

“You don’t want to know. You get what I mean, though. I feel like I’m not giving you as many great experiences as I should be. We regularly walk around the park and call it a date.”

You stop walking, reaching up to hold his face in your hands. It’s a little difficult to do, while also holding an ice cream cone, but you manage.

“Spencer, regardless of the innuendo you just made about great experiences, I love spending time with you. It isn’t about what we do. I enjoy it because I’m with you, dummy.”

He smiles a little, the tips of his ears turning pink. You kiss his cheek chastely, turning back and tugging him along the path.

“We haven’t really done anything extravagant.” He points out, ever a contrarian.

“Are you telling me that making Jell-O in your kitchen was anything short of opulent?”

His face breaks into a grin, and he shakes his head wistfully.

“No. I loved that day.”

You did, too. You have pictures of you both, hands stained pink, triumphantly holding up a ring of strawberry Jell-O. His kitchen was a mess full of gelatin blobs for weeks, but it had been wholly worth it. You shake yourself out of the memory, pressing closer to him.

“I’ve always loved bowling,” You say over your spoon, because you know Spencer hates it when you do that. You immediately regret the suggestion, though. Nobody really enjoys spending time in a bowling alley, and you’re not sure Spencer would have a very good time. He seems open to it, though, nodding after a pensive lick of his ice cream.

“I went to a lot of birthday parties at the bowling alley growing up. They’re nostalgic.” You add, quick to explain.

“I haven’t been in years. I never went with my friends as a kid. We could go, if you want.” He says quietly.

“I don’t know. Bowling alleys kind of suck.” You lace your fingers into his and swing your collective arms a little. A smile forms on his face and you are determined to keep it there.

“What do you mean? You just said you love bowling.” He furrows his brow, and you shrug. The evening breeze is becoming increasingly cold, and you huddle a little closer to him. You’ve reached your favorite part of the park; your bench, where the walk ends and turns into glorified public cuddling.

“I do! It’s a lot of fun. It’s just a rough environment. They’re loud, and the food is always terrible. I figured with the lights and the noise it could be really overstimulating. I get overwhelmed, too.” You nestle your head into his shoulder, watching a family play tag across the expanse of green grass. You can feel Spencer nod before responding.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. I could try, though. We can always leave if it’s too much.”

You will never tire of watching Spencer try, for you. Even if at first he doesn’t succeed. He presses a kiss to your forehead and hugs you, holding you even after it’s customary to let go.

“Yep. You know I love you, right?”

He grins, and kisses you once more.

“Say it again.”

---

It’s two weeks later when he finally, finally has an evening off.

You’re ridiculously flustered. While you and Spencer take full advantage of modern technology and FaceTime while he’s on cases, it still feels like it’s been ages since you last saw each other. Despite how ridiculously comfortable you are with him, you still get a little nervous, and wonder what he sees when you’re together. Tonight is no exception. While you’re certain that the dads at the bowling alley don’t care what you wear, you still struggle to figure out what screams bowling.

You don’t quite figure it out.

Before you’re entirely finished getting ready, your phone rings. You answer in a hurry, rushing to put on your coat as you make your way down the stairs.

“Hey, Spence. What’s up?”

“Hello. It’s good to hear your voice. I sent you the address of the bowling alley downtown. It’s called Strawberry Lanes. I’m on my way.”

You smile against the screen, and reach the metro station you’re looking for.

“Cool. I got it. You’re sure you don’t want to go to the movies instead? They’re even playing Singing in the Rain.” You make a habit of keeping tabs on what’s showing at the theatre by your apartment. While the staff there is very sick of hearing your requests to play foreign films ("Miss, if we played exclusively French New Wave we'd be at a net loss of revenue,") they do sometimes still play classics.

“N-no, I don’t. I’ll see you there.” He’s a little more insistent than usual, and you lack the conviction to worry about it. Instead, you hold onto a dirty metal pole for stability and think about germs and someone you love.

Strawberry Lanes is...dilapidated at best.

To be fair, Quantico is a small college town. You don’t expect much in terms of grand forms of entertainment. As you make your way across the parking lot, you’re acutely aware of the reality that the sign on the entrance is in need of a paint job.

Once you’re inside, the cool air conditioning against your skin is a welcome departure from the humidity outside. It’s eerily quiet, though, and you round a corner to find an unexpected sight.

It’s Spencer. But he’s one of maybe seven people in the whole bowling alley.

You scoff in disbelief, your purse falling from your shoulder to your elbow as you take the final few steps to meet Spencer in the middle. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin at the sight of you, and you smile up at him in awe.

“I, uh, read online that bowling is more fun when in a larger group. I hope you don’t mind.”

You look behind him to find the entire team, all in ridiculous bowling shoes but smiling at you fondly.

“How did you rent out an entire bowling alley?”

You ask, and before you can stop yourself you’ve balled your hands in the fabric of Spencer’s shirt. He laughs, holding you by your elbows, and you still feel a little shaky on your feet as you absorb your surroundings.

“I had help. It was surprisingly inexpensive.”

You turn to see David Rossi, author of three of your favorite books of all time sitting at a table behind the bowling lanes. He waves at you, but scowls at Spencer.

“Easy for you to say. It didn’t come out of your pocket.”

Spencer is glowing. That’s the best word for it—a little flushed, his smile lights up his whole face, cheek to cheek. One hand on the small of your back, you make your way to the lane and offer the team a meek wave.

“It’s so good to see you, pumpkin! Amazing that you got Spence to engage in a sport, too.” Penelope squeals, wrapping you up in a hug. She’s donning pinstripes, head to toe, and the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re pretty sure she intended it. JJ gives you a quick hug, and Emily smiles warmly as you wave in her direction. Morgan claps you on the back and Spencer stiffens, but relaxes when you laugh.

“Is bowling a sport?”

You ask, as you lace up your shoes. With the bulky loafers on, you look a little like a clown, but so does everyone. Spencer somehow managed to convince the managers to dim the disco lights, and bowling is surprisingly benign when softened like this. Spencer nods so vehemently you realize that you’re in for a night of trivia.

“Depends on your definition, but yes. It was in the Olympics, albeit briefly. I’d call it a competitive game, given that there’s a target and a level of athleticism involved in angling your ball correctly.” He says, and you pale.

“Athleticism?”

Morgan laughs from across the lane, and walks over to hand you a bright pink bowling ball.

“A little ball for Spencer’s little lady.”

You blush, and walk up to the lane. While you’re a relatively competitive person, you know your limits. You manage to knock a few pins down and turn back to the crowd, grinning. Emily cheers, and Spencer looks elated. It’s his turn next—Morgan entered his name into the touchscreen as “pretty boy”—and he bowls a straight gutter ball.

He manages to recover quickly, making his way back to your seat without so much as a frown. You rub his back gently, and encourage him.

“You’ll get the hang of it. You had a good amount of spin on it!” “I was trying for a hook shot. You want the rotational speed to match up with the linear velocity of the ball towards the end, because the greater the angle the ball hits the pins at the greater chance of a strike. It’s fascinating, actually, given that that equation is unique to every bowler.” He furrows his brow, and you watch.

“It’s not something that can be mimicked or replicated. There’s no formula.”

You laugh lightly, acutely aware of the fact that JJ and Rossi are watching you. You love Spencer’s coworkers to death—at the end of the day, they’re his family, and they’ve been nothing but kind to you. Even so, it can feel like they’re watching just to watch sometimes. Smiling widely, you tug Spencer up from his chair. Emily’s just completed a spare, winning her five bucks from Morgan, and it’s your turn.

“Yeah, you said it best. You can’t replicate it. You have to find your own way of doing it.”

He shakes his head, a little defensive, and you punch him affectionately on the arm.

“A strike doesn’t come from that individuality, though. It comes from the angle—”

“Spencer, sometimes you just have to rely on luck! I love your beautiful brain and I’m sure you could calculate how to bowl, but come on. It’s my turn. Watch me.”

The hours pass quickly. Emily and Morgan are incredibly competitive, and after a while even Rossi makes his way onto the oiled floor to show everyone how it’s done. Spencer disappears towards the end of the first game, and you trail through the alley until you find him in the arcade.

He’s playing Pac-Man with the least gusto you’ve ever seen, but he’s winning. As you make your way up to him, he smiles.

“Hey. Trying to get a new high score?”

He nods, and after the round is over you see his initials pop up onto the screen. SWR. He turns to you, grinning wildly, his success sweetened by the fact that you’re there to see it.

“Are you having a good time?”

He asks, and you smile a little tightly, so as not to become overly emotional in an arcade. It is so nice, to have him here, sharing something with you. You know that it was probably not easy to convince Rossi, nor to commit to playing a competitive game for a few hours. You reach for his hand, and it occurs to you once he squeezes that distance doesn’t really make the heart grow fonder; it makes the heart grow more appreciative. You will take any amount of him you can get; how handsome he looks in the neon lighting, features a little exaggerated as the screens flash and machines whir. The feeling of his hand in yours. His inability to bowl for shit.

“Yeah. Come on, I want to bowl a little more before the second game ends.” You tug him forward, smiling, and where you go, he follows.

The second game passes quickly; it’s a nail-biting tie between Derek and Emily, with Rossi pulling a close third place. You’re perched at your seat, a dreamy sort of content settling over you as you watch the team excitedly bowl. The animations that play over the screens whenever JJ makes a spare or Penelope bowls a gutter ball are hilarious, and you’ve settled into this feeling. You and Spencer are at the bottom of the leaderboard, but hey—winning isn’t everything. Before you know it, you’ve reached the final two frames, and it’s Spencer’s turn. He wipes his hands on the front of his pants, a little nervous as he stands.

“Come on, genius, you got it!”

“Go, mighty professor, go!”

He looks back at you, bowling ball in hand, and you smile, mouthing a phrase at him. He turns back to the lane, a little emboldened, and bowls terribly. He turns around, a little defeated but still grinning, and he doesn’t see the perfect hook shot make a hard right towards the middle of the pins, knocking each one down.

“You did it! Spence, you did—”

The screens light up in gold, the glory of his lucky strike contagious as the team erupts in whoops and applause. It’s a minor miracle, and you see the shock written over his expression, but it gives way to pride after Derek wraps him up in a hug. Once he makes his way to you, grinning crookedly, you decide to abandon tradition. You don’t even care that you’re in front of his friends; you kiss him, his disbelief melting away in favor of something proud and hopeful. He envelops you in a tight hug, and amidst the laughter and cheers you feel luckier than ever before.

masterlist

taglist <3 (i need to add a blurb category so sorry if u didnt sign up for this lol)

@everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @idonotexiste @coldlilheart @onyourfingertips @uptowngotmedown @infinite-tides @whentheskiesareblue @winniemjf @aanubisbackwards @just-another-persona123 @okivia @thedancingnerdmermaid @the-chaotic-cow @drayshadow @measure-in-pain @allybatch @reidonfilm @luredwithpretzels @rexorangecouny @thatsonezesty13 @rare-breed-of-human @ceridwen-02 @briefgoateeking