#spencer blurbs

[headkiss]

hi hi there! Newcomer to your blog here, and I just wanna say that I love love love your writing sm, it makes me warm and happy and I wanna consume it like good soup. I saw that you’re looking for Spencer requests (my beautiful beloved baby) and I was wondering if I could just request a classic friends to lovers where the reader is a member of the team, and gets hurt on a case and that’s what makes Spencer realize? Any format you’d like. This might be a bit tmi but I just got broken up with and honestly fictional men are the only thing getting me through this rn, and seeing you were taking requests was just straight up happiness. Thank you!

this is so sweet what if i cry :,) i hope this helps you at least a little bit (especially since this has been sitting in my drafts for a MINUTE) <3 you will get through this my love (spencer thinks so too!) | 0.7k words!! my first spencer fic so bare with me 😅 tw mention of a knife and a small injury !

You’re no stranger to taking risks. Nobody at the BAU is. It’s practically written into your job descriptions. Split-second decisions, no room for mistakes.

Only, usually they seem to pay off. Mostly. This time, you aren’t so lucky.

After three days of profiling and trying to catch this unsub, of new victims and suspects and secrets uncovered by Garcia, you’ve finally found him. Apprehending an unsub seems to either be the easiest or toughest part of a case.

This time around, it’s the latter. He’s stubborn, and smarter than you’d like to admit, and when you think you’ve got an opening, the upper hand, that one wrong move proves you wrong.

It’s so quick, the way he grabs your wrist and twists your arm behind your back harshly, a pained groan escaping your mouth before you can suppress it. The way the team all springs into action quickly, talking to him calmly, Hotch at the forefront.

And the look on Spencer’s face. The pleading in his eyes that he can’t seem to control.

He’s who you look to first. Who you keep looking at, because you think if anyone could keep you calm in this moment, if anyone could make you believe you’ll be okay, it’s him.

There’s a knife held to your neck, a cruel grip on your arm, and still, you look at Spencer.

“I won’t cut her if you let me go,” the unsub says. You squeeze your eyes shut before blinking them back open.

You know Hotch has a plan, and if he doesn’t, then Emily does, and so on. They’re all incredible, and there’s not a part of you that thinks they won’t get you out of this, but your heart still pounds, your stomach still twists in fear.

“Go ahead,” Hotch says.

“Hotch-” Spencer’s voice is quiet but sharp. He trusts Aaron, he always has, but you aren’t something he wants to gamble.

“You won’t get far,” Hotch continues.

You find Spencer’s eye and nod at him, so slight that he’d be the only one to pick up on it, since he’s paying such close attention to you. Under different circumstances, you might feel your heart flutter from it.

Sure enough, Aaron does have a plan, and before you can really process what he’s said or done to get through to him, the unsub lets you go with a harsh push, and the first place you go is into Spencer’s waiting arms.

“Take her outside, Reid, we’ve got this,” Morgan says quickly. Spencer doesn’t fight him on it.

He walks you out with one arm tight around your waist and the other stabilizing your wrist. His hands are far kinder than the ones that had been on you moments ago, and you let him hold some of your weight until you’re settled sitting in the back of one of the ambulances on scene.

Spencer watches them wrap your wrist with a tensor bandage, watches them assure you that it’s just a sprain, that you’re otherwise injury-free. He holds your good hand the entire time. Maybe too tightly.

You both wait until the paramedics are done and have walked away to help somebody else before speaking.

“Well, that was fun,” you say. Your instincts are always to play things down, to hide behind jokes. Still, you let yourself lean your head against Spencer’s shoulder.

“No, it wasn’t,” he says. The hand that isn’t holding yours covers your bouncing knee. “I know a lot about odds, and they weren’t in our favor back there.”

“It was mostly my fault, probably. I let him get too close.”

“We arrived seconds later than we should have. That car slowed us down in the intersection on the way, and then the rest was off.” He tells you. Comforting you the way he knows how; with the facts. “Time is what went wrong. Not you. Never you.”

You pick your head up and turn your head to look at him, his hair falling around his ears, his eyes still worried but soft. “Never, huh? I’m gonna remember that.”

Reid squeezes your good hand, his pinky running across your wrist to find your pulse, like he’s making sure you’re really okay. “I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so afraid on the job.”

“Not even when you’re the one being held like that?” you ask.

“No,” he tells you. “Not even then.”

[ddejavvu]

hey could i request something with spencer where he like stretches and his top lifts up revealing a bit of his tummy and the reader just can’t resist reaching under his shirt and giving a little squeeze, just a cute little moment and maybe someone witnesses and teases them but they don’t care because they are just so in love with each other that it’s almost upsetting to look at 🥹

Spencer's combined stretch and yawn clearly relieve tension that's been building in the profiler's shoulders for god knows how long, but when you reach out to pinch the soft skin of his belly, he yelps in distress.

"Ow! What- you-!" Spencer blinks rapidly at you, somewhere between offended and confused, "Did you just pinch me?"

"Sorry." You shrug, "I saw it so I had to grab it."

Spencer's brows furrow, and you know his impressive brain is recalling a time when he'd heard Morgan schmooze a woman at a bar with those exact words. She'd been delightfully good-natured about the entire thing, and you hope Spencer will follow in her footsteps.

"You're a creep." He decides, "You waited until I was vulnerable, and then you blitz attacked me to incapacitate me so that you could have your way with me."

"That's my M.O," You nod patiently, "What's my motivation?"

"You love me?" He guesses, cheeks beautifully rosy as his voice peters out bashfully.

"That's why you're the BAU's genius," You grin, leaning in to kiss at his warm cheek, "You're always right."

[inkdrinkerworld]

Falling asleep on Spencer’s shoulder on the jet, snoring lightly as you finally get some sleep.

Spencer’s been waiting all case for you to sleep properly, but no amount of tea at night and magnesium rich foods helped. The only thing that did it was you wrapping the case up and going home.

Now, he can’t move his shoulder for the next three hours of the flight and finds he doesn’t mind.

Spencer spends time just watching you, taking in the way your chest moves up and down and how your cheek smushed up against his shoulder makes you look delicate and soft.

“She okay?” Derek asks, seeing Spencer’s attention on you so keenly.

“Huh?” Spencer lifts his head, almost like he’d been in a trance. “Yeah she’s okay, just exhausted.”

His hand cradles your head to his shoulder as they move through a bit of turbulence. Derek smiles, a fierce sort of older brother feeling building in his chest.

“Do you think she’ll kill me if I take a photo?” He asks, Spencer shakes his head.

“Let her sleep, Derek.” He boos but walks back to his seat sipping his coffee.

Spencer stretches for his own coffee, frowning when you stir and grab hold of his shirt. “M’right here,” he murmurs, sitting back and pressing his lips to your temple as you settle.

“Okay loverboy!” Emily coos, Spencer rolling his eyes even as he blushes. “You guys going back together? Having a quiet night in?”

Before Spencer can answer, Hotch is chiming in. “Emily,” it’s a warning but the woman lives for teasing you and Spencer.

“What? I just wanna know if she has secretly pink walls with pretty flowers.”

Spencer scoffs, like he’d ever tell them. “Yeah they’re hot pink with white ones.” His thumb strokes your cheek, brushing up against the crush of your eyelashes every so often.

It takes Emily the rest of the flight to realise Spencer was fucking with her and Spencer is comforted by the fact that you have grey walls with posters of all your favourite shows and a couple pieces of artwork, some of pretty flowers; that none of them have seen.

[bisexualtwinkk]

don’t make it obvious s.r

flirty!reader x early seasons spencer reid

Summary: Morgan just can’t believe you actually flirt with spencer.

a/n: My first fic! I still can take season 1 spencer out of my mind, that’s all. And also, I love to imagine him all flustered and shy. xoxo NEW PART POSTED AND PINNED ON MY PROFILE

“I just think you do all this as an entertainment, pretty” morgan said looking across the bullpen, more specifically to the 6’1 nerdy man with the prettiest honey-like eyes.

“shut up, morgan, I’m tired of explaining the same thing to all of you” a sigh escaped my lips while I arranged all the paperwork we had left after a horrible case of human trafficking in D.C.

“what thing are we talking about? ‘cause if we are talking about the missing cookies, garcia took them” prentiss said sitting on top of the desk besides mine.

“we are talking about the not so secret crush our best dressed agent here” morgan pointed at me, making my laugh a little, “has on our I dress like a grandpa doctor”

“oh my god, dereck, that is so superficial of you to say! and is not a secret crush, I like to say nice things to my friends , you say things way out off line to garcia and no one bats an eye, but if I flirt a little with spence everyone goes crazy ”

“sorry honey, but if you think you can hide something while working around profilers, you are very wrong” prentiss taped my nose and standing from the desk.

“you guys make me sick, you know that? I’ll go to spend time with my favorite friend’ I grabbed my coffee and walked to spencer’s desk, escaping the teasing from my coworkers.

spencer was too busy writing to notice when I sat on the desk beside him. his hair was slicked back, making his face look even more sculpted, and prettier, than usual. he was wearing a simple white shirt and a black tie, a casual and comfortable look.

“hi, spence, sorry I didn’t came earlier to talk, handsome, was kinda busy with the pile of papers on my desk” he blinked rapidly when the word handsome left my mouth.

“H-hey” he coughed a little, “don’t worry, I can help you if you want, did you now that a higher percentage of women report feeling burned out compared to men at their level? I don’t mind helping you, as long as you want, of course” spence spoke quickly, making me smile.

“if you want to spend time with me you can say it, you know? I really love spending time with you, spence” I played with the end of his tie, watching his addam’s apple move and his face turning an adorable shade of pink. “and thank you, I accept your help, you are the best spence” I give him a quick peck on the cheek while walking away and seeing morgan with a smirk on his face.

“try not to make it that obvious next time” he pushed me in a playful way, laughing at my, more than spencer’s, red face.

“shut up, morgan”

I’m totally screwed by that man, I swear.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you please write something for Spencer where r is used to men being like really loud and rough and all that (maybe bc of her father or smth) and just her getting used to how gentle Spencer is and almost thinking it’s too good to be true?

Thank you for requesting angel <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 905 words

It happens when you’re still half asleep. You fumble for your phone on Spencer’s nightstand, your alarm chiming, and knock a picture frame off instead. You’re fully awake by the time you hear the sound of glass shattering against the floor. 

You mumble a curse. Spencer hums questioningly into his pillow. 

You get down from the bed, managing to step over the glass, but you’re not thinking clearly enough. When you sink onto your knees, little shards prick the skin. You pick the frame up carefully. It’s a picture of Spencer and his mom. An old one, of her chasing a three or four-year-old Spencer around someone’s yard. They’re both laughing, her arms outstretched towards him and his face turning to look over his shoulder. It’s obviously a sentimental photo. 

Your cursing intensifies, though you keep it internal now. You feel awful. 

Spencer’s head appears over the edge of the bed as you’re scraping the glass into a pile. His eyes are half-open, expression still weighted with drowsiness. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

There’s no accusation in his tone, but you feel suddenly teary. You haven’t fought with Spencer yet, and you weren’t expecting to be yelled at first thing this morning. You suppose you’ve earned it, though. 

“Spence, I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I—I knocked over your picture. The frame broke. I feel awful, I’ll get you a new one o—or I can replace the glass if the frame is important to you.” 

“What?” Spencer blinks, brows furrowed as though he’s having trouble grasping this. “No, it’s—stop. Don’t do that.” 

You still, looking up at him hesitantly with your hands cupped around the glass pile. “What do you want me to do?” 

“You can’t clean glass up with your hands.” He shuffles his way out from under the covers, taking a big step over the class to stand behind you. His hands wrap around your elbows. “Get away from there.” 

His tone conveys some upset, but not nearly as much as you were prepared for. And his grip on your arms is gentle. You can’t make sense of it. 

You let him guide you into the bathroom, sitting up on the counter when he prompts you. Spencer takes your hands in his, looking them over and brushing his fingers lightly across your palms before determining there’s no glass in them. His eyes skim you over. When they land on your knees, his expression pinches. 

“Why did you do this?” You expect him to grasp your knee roughly, but his fingers wrap around it with care, thumb rubbing over the soft underside as though to soothe you. 

“I wasn’t thinking,” you say softly. “I feel so bad about the picture with your mom, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Spencer sounds surprised. His eyes flit up to yours, soft brown, curious. “I can get a new frame. You didn’t need to hurt yourself.” 

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Your voice drops to a murmur as Spencer bends down, opening a drawer to take out first aid supplies. 

He pulls each tiny piece of glass from your knees with heart-aching care. One hand stays on the back of whichever knee he’s working on, to steady him and to comfort you, and it’s a slow, attentive, tender process. Gradually, a realization seeps into you. 

Spencer isn’t going to blow up at you. Maybe someday, but not about this, not over just anything. You’re not sure how you could have been so expectant of someone who’s been nothing but kind and gentle with you turning harsh and forceful at the first upset. 

You don’t even wince as Spencer cleans up your knees. He’s careful to give you no reason to, every touch considerate and sweet. He straightens after smoothing bandages over the cuts, still holding your lower thighs in his hands. 

“That wasn’t a very nice way to wake up,” he says. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, but you hold your arms out for a hug anyway. 

Spencer’s happy to oblige you, his hips fitting between your legs and palms sliding across your back. He smells like sleep. You hook your chin over his shoulder, contentment filling your belly like warm honey. 

“You seemed upset,” he murmurs, a question if you choose to answer it. 

“I was nervous,” you admit. “I thought you’d be mad.” 

“For knocking the frame over?”

“Mhm. I still feel really bad.” 

Spencer draws a line between your shoulders. “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t do it on purpose.” 

You hum. “You’re a lot less loud than most guys, do you know that?” 

He pauses. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You pull away from him, cradling his face in your hand. “I’m just not used to it, is all. I keep expecting you to yell at me, but that doesn’t seem like it’s really your thing.” 

“I guess I don’t think of it as my thing,” Spencer agrees, mouth curving as he repeats your words. “My mom says I was always a quiet kid. I guess I just never thought yelling would get me anywhere.” 

“Don’t start.” You grin, and his cheek dimples under your palm. “I like you like this.” 

“Okay, I’ll try not to.” He tilts his face into your touch. His hands drop back to your knees, skimming down the unharmed sides next to the bandages. “And you shouldn’t get angry at yourself on my behalf anymore, either.”

[mandarinmoons]

hi! i have an idea ive been thinking about for a while. spencer and the team (plus reader) are at a bar and reader goes off to get a drink/dance/talk to someone and either a girl or a group of girls come up to spencer and start flirting with him. the first thing she/they ask ofc is "do you have a girlfriend?" and spencer (not realizing they are flirting) is like yes!!! her name is _____ and she is amazing and i love her so much.... and he goes on like a 20 minute rant about reader. reader finally finds him talking to these girls/girl and has to recuse them/her from his ranting about herself and explain what they actually meant.

sorry that was a lot but i wanted to make sure understood what i was envisioning. thank you so much!!!

“Spence, please!”

Spencer kept pulling you closer as he tried to nuzzle his way into your neck and leave a few kisses behind your ear. He wasn’t one for PDA, but after a few shots he was puddy in your hands and everyone had to witness what a mess you made of him in this state.

“I just wanna be close to you,” you could feel him pout as his lips were pressed against your neck, his thumbs rubbing over your waist.

“Looks like you’re not getting out of here anytime soon, huh pretty girl?”

Derek chuckled as he took pleasure seeing his younger brother of a coworker finally have a girlfriend, especially with how clingy he was being at the moment. It was as if Spencer would follow you if you were to leave for only a minute, which he had done approximately half an hour ago when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and somehow he still had enough brainpower to talk about how hand-dryers could actually spread more germs and not remove them. He’d even taken it upon himself to take some paper towels and dry your hands for you, making sure to even dry the spaces between your fingers.

You had had only one drink and you were not going home unless you had a second one. Spencer had already downed three in that time, and looking at the state that he was in, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get served any more tonight.

“Spence, I'm going to get a quick drink, okay? Stay here.”

Prying his hands off of you, you quickly slipped out of Spencer’s grasp before he managed to put his hands on your waist again.

A few minutes later, Penelope pulls Derek to the dance floor while Emily comes across an old friend and excuses herself to have a word with her, leaving Spencer all by himself at the booth, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth while fidgeting with his fingers. He was too deep in thought that he didn’t notice a group of girls come over and sit next to him, their intentions clearly not innocent.

“Hi! You’re here all alone?”

“Oh, I’m not! I’m here with my girlfriend and team mates!”

“I don’t see any girlfriend around.”

“She went to get a drink. Oh, she loves an aperol spritz, she’s got great taste, in general not just in drinks.”

The girls watched in amazement as Spencer kept talking about every small thing he could come up with about you, from your favorite color and the psychological meaning behind it to your Myers Briggs personality type and how you’re both compatible.

As the endless line at the bar finally came to an end and you managed to get your drink, walking back to the team’s spot you noticed the unfamiliar girls surrounding Spencer and your stomach churned in nerves. The closer you got however you noticed their bored and confused faces and that’s all you needed to know that Spencer had most probably pulled his book smarts out on them and left them speechless.

“Oh and this one time- Y/N, you’re back!”

Spencer pulled you in for a hug, nearly knocking the drink out of your hands. Managing to put it down on the table, you rested your hand on his back as you turned your attention to the strangers, them clearly on the edges of their seats and ready to bolt at any moment.

“We’re gonna go, nice to meet you both.”

Your eyes followed them as they quickly got up and made their way to the other side of the bar, even from a distance you could see the red hue on their cheeks, embarrassment written all over their faces.

“Spence, what did they want?”

“They came over and asked if I had a girlfriend.”

“That’s it?”

Spencer nodded as he nuzzled into your stomach, “And I talked about how great you are and how I’m going to marry you one day.”

Laughter erupted from your mouth as you heard the answer, also because of Spencer’s fingers practically digging into your sides that it was tickling you.

“Sweetie, I don’t think that’s what they meant by that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually when someone asks “Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend?”, it’s their way of asking “Are you single?”

Spencer blinked his eyes, your words not yet registering in his head.

“They were flirting with you.”

“Oh… really?”

Nodding along, the conversation was put on halt as everyone made their way back to the table.

“You guys had to leave him alone, huh?”

“Why? What happened?”

“Some girls came up to Spencer and tried to hit on him.”

“Oh, pretty boy’s got game now, huh?”

The team chuckled, but Spencer kept burrowing his head more into your embrace. It was clear that no matter how many girls tried their luck with him it would inevitably fail, as you were his home that he would come back to every time.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[parfaitblogs]

oh my lover 𝜗𝜚 s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid undresses you for the first time. 

spencer reid x fem!reader. fluff/smut (18+ mdni). 0.8k words. established relationship. borderline body worshipping? actually he just loves you a lot. kind of soft dom!spencer but only if you squint. use of sweet girl and honey. 

a/n: i saw a textpost about this and thought it was wonderful beautiful incredible amazing. just a silly blurb because my motivation for writing has been almost nonexistent </3. enjoy my beautiful angels

spencer reid who didn't think he could meet somebody more nervous than him when it came to sexual intimacy, soon learning that he has fierce competition and that competition is you.

spencer reid who had to literally coax you into climbing onto his lap many moons ago because yes, he was kissing you, and you were close, but you weren't close enough and he had since discovered that he needs to feel every single inch of your body to be enjoying himself. 

spencer reid who was incredibly patient with you, allowing you to initiate quite literally every time you wanted to do something with him, for he was often in fear of pushing too many boundaries and screwing this all up. spencer reid who would ask before he made any moves, and you who had grown accustomed to quietly whispered phrases such as, 'can i kiss you, sweet girl?', and (more recently), 'do you want me to stop? no? okay, honey. i won't'. 

spencer reid who had you laying beneath him on the forest green sheets of his bed, kisses along your skin emitting the loveliest of whines and mewls from your lips, that had him borderline considering quitting every responsibility he had to focus on you. who was oh so hesitant about taking this any further, until you were so lost in a daze that you had subconsciously been pushing your shirt up your torso. spencer reid who had caught the sight, then your hand, stopping you from tugging it all the way off, an amused smile on his lips. 

spencer reid who murmured, 'can i take your shirt off?', and then laughed when you had feverishly nodded your head. who took his utmost of time with it, despite your complaints, pressing kisses up along the hot skin of your stomach with each inch the shirt uncovered. spencer reid who had to pause for a moment when he stared down at you, nowhere near fully naked but still so, so beautiful, to the point that his brain was malfunctioning. 

spencer reid who's fingers traced the outline of your bra, committing the image to memory the best he could despite the motor fry he was currently experiencing from the sight of you. who then took your bra off with so much ease, and began kissing the skin. again. who repeated every tiny ministration that tugged a moan from your throat, despite being something as small as an open-mouthed kiss on your ribcage. 

spencer reid who was trying to stay focussed on the task at hand (undressing you), but getting seemingly distracted by the way you arched your back when his lips had grazed oh so lightly over your nipples.

spencer reid who's fingers finally — finally — hooked under the waistband of your pants, kissing down your body once more, pulling them down your legs at the same time. spencer reid who looked up when he felt the air in the room shift, a layer of intensity coating the two of you, noting the almost worried expression on your face. 

who had asked, 'what's that look for?' and then been thoroughly confused when you expressed discomfort for him seeing you fully naked for the first time. who acknowledged that it was the first time anyone was seeing you naked, and it was a big deal, and he knew the feeling all too well. 

spencer reid who, instead of continuing straight away, lifted his head back to yours, kissing the tip of your nose and the corner of your mouth, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hip bones, slowly. who murmured, 'i'm going to think you're incredibly beautiful no matter what, but i will only go as far as you're willing'. spencer reid who swallowed the protests you had on your tongue about that matter with a kiss, shushing you and enforcing a silent promise that you are as beautiful as he says you are.

spencer reid who took his sweet fucking time removing your underwear from your body, marvelling at the sight of you and forcing his heart rate to remain at a normal enough rate so he could enjoy you properly. who kissed you again, and again, and again, mumbling incoherently about how pretty you looked in between each one. spencer reid who shushed you again, a little less seriously, because you were now giggling that he had this big brain of expansive knowledge, and the only word he could come up with for you was pretty. 

but, regardless, spencer reid who made you feel so immensely loved the entire night, successfully taking his time to kiss and admire each and every crevice of your body, until you were thoroughly exhausted, but pleasantly fulfilled. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[friendoftashi]

all mine | spencer reid x reader (nsfw)

because your job required so much travel, you and spencer were well practiced in quiet sex. at first, when your relationship was just clandestine meetings in hotel rooms, it was out of necessity.

the first time hotch allowed the two of you to room together, he handed the keys over with a firm look and “behave yourselves,” muttered under his breath. spencer flushed and morgan whistled.

“thank you, sir. you won’t regret it, i promise.”

you cut your eyes at morgan, who quickly fell back in line for the elevator.

spencer pulled away from your feverish kisses, chuckling under uneven, rapid breaths.

“what?” you questioned him, his amusement contagious.

“it’s just… whenever i imagined the first time we were assigned to the same room, i expected to feel relief at not having to sneak around anymore. but really i’m even more aware of our coworkers in the next rooms over.”

your lips curl into a smirk as you bring your arms around his neck, staring up at him.

“i’m naked in your bed and you’re thinking about our coworkers?”

“i just,” he brings his hips back to yours, settling himself right when you need him, “i don’t like anyone else hearing your pretty noises. all for me,” he’s mumbling against your neck. “plus, we’d never hear the end of it from derek.”

you gasp out a laugh in response as his hands find your waist, squeezing their way down to your ass, the backs of your thighs, repositioning your hips slightly to meet his at the perfect angle. you groan together, and spencer is quickly smashing his mouth against yours to muffle the sound.

he’s everywhere, hands on your breasts, kissing the jut of your hip bones and pulling your panties to the side. as he tweaks a nipple between the fingers of his left hand, his right holds your leg up as his tongue dives between your folds. your back arches as your hand flies to cover your mouth. you know the routine.

he eats you out sloppily for a few minutes before surging back to your lips. without breaking the kiss, he’s reaching for the pillows above your head. immediately, you know what he wants. you flip onto your stomach, lift your hips in muscle memory. spencer settles one pillow under your hips, the other under your head. he pets your hair and leans down to peck your shoulder before shoving his boxers off. on nights when spencer is especially worked up, often still buzzing off the adrenaline of capturing a particularly difficult unsub, he wants you from behind. this way, your noises are muffled by the pillows, his against your neck, while he sinks onto you. faster and faster, until the bed begins to squeak and he has to change his pace.

he’s bucking into you slowly now, his chest flush with your back. with your hands intertwined, his lips against your ear, hes whispering, more to himself, over and over, “all mine.”

[aliteralsemicolon]

Coming out from Spencer's shower to find him sitting in the living room watching some documentary.

Walking around him to ruffle his hair before walking across him to take a seat next to him, but he grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap.

So you're cuddling him, back to chest, as he continues to watch his documentary. It's in a foreign language so you don't understand it, but that's okay because you're not interested anyway.

Taking Spencer's hand in yours and massaging his palms, tracing the lines on his hands, toying with his fingers lightly. You plant a gentle kiss on his palm and he closes his fingers in a fist, trapping your fingers in his hand.

He brings your hand to his face and returns the kiss on your hand as you turn to face him. Another kiss lands on your forehead, then on the bridge of your nose and finally he tilts your chin up to peck your lips.

He kisses you again and rests his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes are locked in on each others and the look you share is so domestic, so in love.

His gaze is so intense it causes genuine butterflies in your belly and goosebumps form on your skin. You can't hold back a smile. He has that same smile and it makes you shy. You break eye contact and bury your head in his neck, pulling him in a hug.

It makes him laugh and he wraps his arms around you, planting more kisses on the side of your head. He shifts too fast for you to comprehend, laying you down on the couch and sitting up.

You whine and try to hug him again but he grabs your hands, pinning them to the side of your head as he hovers above you and kisses your cheek.

"I want to see you." His voice is playful, but his eyes are begging you.

[clefairysoup]

18+ munch spencer

munch!spencer who loves when you sit on his face, despite your worries he insists that he doesnt need to breath when he is already in heaven

munch!spencer who is actually addicted to the taste of you like a drug addict

munch!spencer who eats you out for hours until you are both sweating and heaving like dogs

munch!spencer who refuses to skips foreplay even if it means your too tired after

Munch!spencer who will casually dip a finger into your panties to get a lick of your slick

Munch!spencer who moans and groans into your pussy turning you on even more

Munch!spencer while fucking you trails his finger down to your clit to swirl the tip of his finger around it and then brings it back to his mouth moaning at your taste

Munch!spencer who is needy at work, and so you both end up in the family toilet with him between your thighs

Munch!spencer who can cum alone from the taste of you

Munch!spencer who has wet dreams about eating you out

[julssreidd]

Your Wife, Huh? ; Spencer Reid.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader.

summary: When a police officer raises their voice at you, Spencer comes to your defense, but in his attempt to protect you, he accidentally refers to you as his wife.

word count; 435 words ( i expected this to be longer when i wrote it)

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! my inbox is always open, too.

You were absorbed in your work at the police station, surrounded by a clutter of case files and evidence reports. The atmosphere was a cacophony of voices and ringing phones, but you managed to focus on your task.

A loud, gruff cop strolled by, glancing at you with a mix of disdain and impatience. “Hey, can you get that stuff out of the way?” he barked. “We’re trying to get some real work done here.”

You looked up, surprised by his tone. “I’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Just what? This isn’t a personal office!” he interrupted, raising his voice even further.

Before you could respond, your boyfriend, who had been working next to you, noticed the exchange. His face hardened with frustration. He approached quickly, his demeanor shifting from calm to protective.

“Excuse me,” Spencer said, his voice louder than usual. “There’s no need to speak to her like that. She’s here to assist with the case, and she’s doing a critical job.”

The cop, taken aback by Spencer’s sudden assertiveness, tried to brush him off. “And who are you to tell me how to do my job?”

“I’m her partner,” Spencer said, his voice firm. Then, in a moment of heated protectiveness, he blurted out, “My wife and I are trying to do the work your team couldn’t, so how about you show her some respect?”

The cop’s eyes widened in surprise, and after a moment of hesitation, he muttered an apology and walked away, clearly unsettled.

You couldn’t help but grin as you looked up at Spencer. His face was flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering irritation, but there was a soft, endearing quality to his expression.

“Your wife, huh?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax,” you said, chuckling. “I’m just teasing you. But you know, it did make me feel pretty special.”

Spencer cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Well, one day you will be my wife,” he said, a hint of seriousness in his voice.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Please, do not propose to me right now. This is so not romantic.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in mock offense. “How dare you think I would propose like this? You know me better than that.”

You both laughed as he kissed you briefly before you two got back to work, the tension from the earlier confrontation melting away.

As Spencer watched you handle the paperwork, he realized that the conversation had sparked a new thought: it might be time to start looking for engagement rings.

[reidalert]

IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY | spencer.reid

| spencer reid & fem!reader 3.1k words

| content: a case has you feeling helpless and guilty, and no matter who consoles you, nothing helps. maybe all you need is to take a break, but what if the break is being risky with dr. reid?

| warnings: mentions of death/kidnapping, flashback to the case, reader feeling vulnerable

| author’s note: i haven’t written in a longgg time and boy does it feel good to finally get these words out of my head. it feels like a privilege to get my writing spark back & i can’t wait to share all my ideas with you. i hope you enjoy reading <3

| masterlist

feedback and comments are highly appreciated!

You have thick skin.

Well, that’s what you say to anyone who asks if you’re okay.

But after today? After this case? You’re not sure if that’s true anymore. You don’t get affected easily, not when it comes to blood and gore. You’ve homed in on keeping your reactions and feelings at bay when it comes to that… but what happened out there? It’s made you feel helpless.

You knew from the minute JJ briefed you back at the BAU that this case was something you hadn’t dealt with before. Even Agent Hotchner had asked if you wanted to sit this one out.

But you said no. You wanted to get more experience to become a better profiler and a better agent. And it came at a cost.

You feel like an outsider. Like you’re watching yourself from an outside perspective as you go through airport security. The endless whir of machines and planes landing and taking off in the background do nothing for the thoughts racing in your mind.

You’re the last to be cleared and you know the others are watching you. Their eyes burning through your skin and doing what they do best. Profiling.

You don’t meet their gaze. You know as soon as you make eye contact with one of them, they’ll be asking you questions and it’ll make you torture yourself about whether you’re fit for this job. So, you make your way through the long and endless corridors until you’re at the gate for the jet.

The dull whirring of the jet engines helps you zone out. The leather seats are a cool comfort to your heated self.

Logically, it would make sense to let them know you’re not doing okay and that you need some time to yourself. But who are you kidding? You’re a thick skinned woman who can do anything… so you’ve made them believe.

You’re sitting on the farthest seat in the jet, right in the corner away from everyone else. You can’t deal with the questions you know they’re going to ask you.

But apparently, that doesn’t stop Agent Hotchner from taking the seat opposite you.

“I know what you’re gonna say.” You break the silence but continue staring out the oval window. The city lights below turn smaller and smaller as you progress through the flight.

“And what’s that?” Agent Hotchner asks. You’re not happy he’s here, invading your little self-pity bubble, but you do appreciate the way he keeps his voice quiet.

You shrug. “That something has upset me. Or that I’m too in my head about this case. Along those lines, anyway.”

Agent Hotchner regards you for a moment. You can feel his eyes staring at the side of your face as you purposefully stay looking out the window.

Because you know the second you make eye contact with him, he’ll see what’s going through your head. And he can’t.

“I gathered something was wrong.” His voice is low, a nice baritone that doesn't annoy you. “I know when someone in my team is different. And you’re different.”

You fight back the scoff that’s threatening to spill. “And what is that supposed to mean, Agent Hotchner?”

“Just…” he sighs. You’re very similar to Spencer Reid; in a way that you both struggle to admit when you need help. “If something is bothering you, I am here to listen.”

“Who says something is bothering me?” You kind of regret asking that question as you know damn well he’s about to go into an explanation of how he can see you’re upset.

He sits up a little straighter, hands clasped over his crossed knees. “You’re avoiding eye contact with me, your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the arm rests—”

“That’s nothing—”

“You’re interrupting me. You don’t like being analysed as it makes you vulnerable. You haven’t eaten anything in the past,” Agent Hotchner checks his watch. “Six hours. Your stomach is warring against your emotions and you don’t like that. You’re sitting in a corner trying to push yourself away from other people.”

“Okay.” You bite out, now finally giving in to looking him dead in the eyes. “You’re a great profiler. No need to showboat.”

“I’m not showboating.”

You roll your eyes, “Sure seems like it.”

A minute or two pass in silence. Agent Hotchner is still staring at you and you feel incredibly small under his gaze. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything.” He fixes his shirt cuffs, acting so nonchalant as if he didn’t just profile one of his team members.

You grit your teeth. “Fine. Today messed with my head. That case was… it was wrong. So wrong that I can’t stop thinking about how I could have helped that family.”

Agent Hotchner leans forward, gently placing his hand upon your own on the arm rest. You feel your grip loosen and you fight back a grimace at how cold his hand feels against your warm one. “It’s not your fault. We all know we could have done something different out there, but sometimes the unsub takes a surprise route. Things like this happen and it’s unfortunate, but don’t blame yourself.”

You shrug again, avoiding eye contact once again. “Yeah.”

He stands, pulling his suit jacket to fit more comfortably. “If you need to talk to someone, come to my office.”

You only offer a silent nod in answer.

“Oh, and Agent L/N? Stop calling me Agent Hotchner, Hotch is just fine.” He offers a small smile and you shake your head, going back to staring out the window until your eyes feel too heavy to keep open.

“Why is there so much paperwork?” Your voice comes out all agitated as you rifle through a stupid amount of folders and loose paper.

Emily peeks over the cubicle dividing and raises an eyebrow. “You okay there?”

You sigh, slumping down onto your desk chair, spinning until you’re facing her side of the cubicle. “Do I sound okay to you? Who in their right mind decided to give me the goddamn paperwork for that goddamned case?” You glance around the wide room, trying to find JJ; this has to be her doing.

Emily purses her lips, “Doing paperwork isn’t that bad, Y/N. I mean, I guess there’s a lot but it’ll make the day go by quicker.”

“Oh, please.” You scoff, feeling yourself grow more annoyed by the minute. You know you need to get yourself in check, but the past 24 hours have ridden you like the Grim Reaper is taking jockey lessons in Hell.

“What’s got Little Miss Thick Skin so angry today?” Derek Morgan walks up to your desk, a hot mug of coffee in his hand. A brief thought had you biting your lip— it’d be wrong to spill it on him.

“Don’t start, please.” You rest your elbows on your desk, hands holding either side of your face as you stare at the paperwork. The names of the family you couldn’t save stare right back at you. Your stomach drops and you’re not sure how long you can stay in this office.

“Hey,” Derek places his mug on your desk before crouching down to your eye level. “What’s wrong, girl? If you don’t want to do the paperwork, I can take it off your hands. No big deal.”

You shake your head, “Don’t bother. I’m fine.”

Derek watches your face and you turn your head to look at him. “If you start profiling me, Morgan, I swear to God that coffee mug will end up in a place you really don’t want it.”

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, girl. Just tryna help ya out.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need help. I’m fine.” You scoot your desk chair closer and grab the closest pen, tapping it against the top of your desk to distract you from the fact you have to relive this case just a day later.

You don’t catch it, but Derek and Emily share a knowing look. They’ve seen this before. It’s not hard to notice someone you spend days on end with is struggling.

Derek grabs his mug and pats you on the shoulder. Emily sinks back into her cubicle and makes sure to keep an eye on during the day. If she finds you with smoke coming out of your ears, she’ll go get the fire extinguisher.

Your hand cramps as you write your final notes. The computer screen has turned too bright for your eyes and a headache begins to form behind your eyes. It’s been a long day.

Clicking the pen closed, you lean back against your chair with a deep sigh. You close your eyes just to rest them for a brief moment and scenes from yesterday plague you.

It’s like you can’t escape.

Your heart rate picks up speed. You’re not sure how it turned into a game of cat and mouse, but you’re adamant on putting a stop to it.

“What does he think he’s doing?” You’re standing with your palms pressed against a conference table in a police station in Washington. The projector casts a live shot of the news— a helicopter is chasing after the unsub in a car. The family you’re trying to protect is with him.

“He’s trying to flee.” Agent Rossi says, so matter of factly that it has you turning your attention to him instead.

You squint at him. “You saw this coming, didn’t you?”

He gestures to the screen. “You didn’t?”

“No, I did not.” You grit your teeth, moving so you’re now standing up straight. “I predicted he’d do something out of the blue. We all did. But we didn’t know he was going to kidnap them. That wasn’t part of his game.”

Rossi shrugs, “I’ve been in this job longer than you have, kiddo. It takes experience to know something like this. Don’t blame yourself.”

“What?” You let out a disbelieving scoff. “Listen here old man—”

“That’s enough.” Agent Hotchner cuts through your words, ending your little spat with Rossi. “We’re all here to do a job. So let’s do it.”

Faint footsteps sound behind you. You’re not sure who’s still in the office, but considering how late it is, there’s only a few people that come to mind.

“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” That all too recognisable voice makes your heart swoop. Spencer appears in your line of vision, his man-bag crossed over his torso. He looks ready to leave. “It’s nearly 7PM.”

“Oh.” You glance at the clock mounted on the wall. You didn’t realise that you were doing the paperwork for the Washington case for nearly 10 hours. “Guess I lost track of time.”

Spencer regards you for a minute. “Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You offer a weak smile, not trying to be bitchy to him like you were to the others earlier. You make a mental note to apologise to them tomorrow.

“It’s just— nevermind.” He shakes his head.

Your brows furrow, “No, what is it?”

“Ever since we got on that plane yesterday, you’ve been hostile.” Spencer rocks back and forth on his heels. “I know you don’t like to be profiled, I don’t either, but I know something is wrong.”

You twist in your chair, facing your computer screen with your hands hovering over the keyboard. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to figure it out on your own.

“Y/N?” Spencer says your name and you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes all sparkly, his cheeks smooth, his lips… perfect.

You blink slowly. Your head isn’t in the right place, but your heart (and hormones) are.

You internally say fuck it and reach for the strap of his man-bag to pull him down to your level. Your breaths mingle and your eyes dart in a triangle from one eye to his lips to his other eye. And lo and behold, the triangle method actually works because Spencer leans in and you feel his lips ghost over your own.

And nothing.

He just stays in that position. Hunched down in your grip, lips mere millimetres away from your own and he doesn’t finish the job.

You breathe in a deep sigh, your senses being filled with his scent. “Why aren’t you kissing me?”

“I— I think it’s because I know you’re not yourself. It feels wrong.” Spencer's breath is minty as it fans over your cheeks and neck. You want to say something snarky, but you know he’s right. “I do want to kiss you, though. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”

You lean back a little, your eyes staring into his pretty brown ones. You don’t see a sign of a lie and your heart skips a beat. “Would it help if I admitted what’s going on? Would you kiss me then?” God, are you really that desperate to get kissed by Spencer Reid? Yes. Yes you are.

Spencer lowers into a crouch, one hand grips the armrest of your desk chair, whilst the other splays across your knee with a gentle squeeze. “If it helps you, then it’ll help me. Talk to me. Let me inside your pretty head.”

You reach out for his tie, fiddling with it to help your nerves. “You know I don’t like talking about how I feel, but this is something I can’t keep to myself anymore.”

Spencer nods, his hand on your knee giving you another squeeze. But this time in a reassuring way. That’s your go ahead sign to lay it all down.

“That case we did. The family where we couldn’t save them, where I couldn’t save them, keeps replaying in my head and I don’t know what to do to stop it.” You take a breath, your fingers still playing with his tie. “If we got there sooner, I know we could have stopped him from hurting them. From killing them. I feel like if I did or said something right or helpful, I could’ve saved them. I hate feeling like this because I know it isn’t my fault, but I just can’t help but feel guilty.”

Spencer stays quiet, letting your words sink in. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault.”

You sigh, dropping his tie and moving your attention to his face. To his lips.

“I wish I could go back in time and help.” You admit, feeling a small weight lift from your shoulders.

“I wish for that, too.” Spencer admits as well. Both of you find comfort in knowing you feel the same. It makes feeling like this just the little bit easier to deal with. “Thank you for sharing how you feel.”

You let out a small laugh. “Thank you for not dismissing me.”

“I could never dismiss you.” Spencer’s voice is soft and warm. His fingers slowly trail up and down your calf, sending a shiver through your body. “Would you like that kiss now?” The smirk on his lips has your stomach flipping and you want nothing more than for his lips to be on yours.

“I would very much like that kiss now.” You smile at him, leaning in and already feeling your body succumb to him. When your lips meet, you sigh. You’ve missed being able to be physical with him; it’s hard trying to stay colleagues when all you want is to be wrapped up in his arms.

Spencer lets his hands travel— up your thighs, round your back, cheekily up the hem of your dress. You moan lightly into his mouth and he swallows it.

Your hands grab for his collar to deepen the kiss. “More.” You mumble against his lips and he complies. Spencer bites your bottom lip to elicit a gasp from you so he can dive his tongue down your throat with ease.

You feel yourself involuntarily squeezing your thighs to quell the ache forming between your legs. God, you’d do anything to take him home with you right now.

Before you get a chance to start undoing his tie, a loud and clear cough comes from your right.

You stop moving but Spencer keeps going. Trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, you now get a perfect view of Hotch standing outside his office with his arms crossed. You can’t make out what his face is portraying.

“Spence.” You tug on his collar, but he thinks you want him to go further. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up the column of your neck and you have to fight back a whimper.

You’d die on the spot if you let Aaron Hotchner hear you moaning.

“No. Spencer.” This time you push at his shoulders and the look he gives you makes you feel bad. But if you let him carry on, both of you would never be able to be in Hotch’s presence. Ever.

“Are you okay?” Spencer brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

You shake your head, your fingers quickly straightening out Spencer's tie. “I loved it. You were good, but, um…” your eyes drift off to where Hotch is still standing.

It’s as if Spencer was zapped by lightning. He shoots back away from you, and somehow manages to hit every piece of furniture around him. You want to laugh but this situation doesn’t call for laughing. You’ve been caught by your boss making out in the middle of the BAU.

“Reid, L/N. Care to explain?” Hotch moves slowly down the stairs, his aura too strong for you to look him in the eyes right now.

You twiddle your thumbs. “He was just helping me finish this file report from the case yesterday.”

Hotch looks at Spencer, knowing that he’ll blab the truth. “She was upset about not being able to save them and I wanted to help ease her pain and—”

“That’s enough.” Hotch raises a hand. “Since it’s past working hours, I’ll make a one time allowance for this behaviour.”

You have a big sigh of relief and Spencer lets out an audible groan of embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t.” Hotch checks his watch and frowns. “I’m late for something. Finish that report and I’ll see you both tomorrow. Behaving correctly.”

You nod your head and Spencer keeps his head down staring at the floor. You watch Hotch leave the office and you finally let out your cringing grimace. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was here. I thought he left already.”

“I can’t be mad. I got to kiss the prettiest girl in here.”

“Shut up.”

Copyright credit to @reidalert as of 2024-present.

[ddejavvu]

reader just had a shitty day and the only thing she had to look forward to was her date with spencer but her dress zipper breaks/she has a wardrobe malfunction and that was the last straw for her so she just cries and its just s fuckkkk ton of comfort from spencer? <333

"I'm going to kill myself," You decide, feeling the breeze on your back from your dress that is very much not zipped, "It's over for me, this is my last straw, and-"

"Uh, your- zipper... doesn't close?" Spencer guesses, keen eyes assessing the situation and finding your bare back exposed in the dim lighting of your closet.

"No," You groan, leaning forwards against the wall, all of your weight slumped in defeat, "I was- I was looking forward to wearing this dress all month, and now-" Your voice wobbles dangerously, "And now it's broken, and I don't have anything else that I wanted to wear tonight because this was supposed to be my special dress, and-!"

Whatever the rest of your speech would have been, it's lost in a garbled mess of tears as your shoulders begin shaking. Spencer's there in seconds, and the smooth fabrics of his suit jacket and tie press warmly against the exposed skin that your dress fails to cover. The front sags, and you're surely looking indecent, but pressed up against the wall, you don't care. You just let yourself go, and Spencer's arms snake around your waist to hold you up.

"It's okay." He soothes, his voice calm and kind, "Here's what we're gonna do, okay? Penelope's at home right now, and I know she can fix a broken zipper faster than Derek can bust down a door. And if it doesn't work, we can go shopping for a new one on the way to dinner. We can go to that boutique you were window-shopping at yesterday, and we can get the yellow dress you raved about. Actually, even if Penelope does fix your zipper, we can still get the yellow dress."

You think you know what he's insinuating, but just to be sure, you sniffle and peer cautiously at him from over your shoulder, "Spencer, I can't afford the yellow dress."

He laughs softly, kindly, and kisses a tear off of the apple of your flushed cheek, "I'm buying the yellow dress for you."

"Thanks," You reward him with your own wet, watery laugh, sniffling again as you turn to face him. You've forgotten that your dress has abandoned you, but perhaps that's Spencer's reward for treating you to the yellow dress you'd admired from the window only days prior.

He blushes as though he's never seen them before, reaching out to hike your dress back up onto your chest.

"Change into something a little more- uh, modest for the drive." Spencer suggests, "Otherwise we'll get arrested before we even get to Penelope's, and they're definitely not gonna let us into the restaurant."

[inkdrinkerworld]

Spencer doesn’t know when the habit had developed, but it had.

You’re standing next to him while your relationship was still a BAU best kept secret, in the kitchenette and almost softly and absentmindedly, his nose brushes your shoulder when no one is looking, his lips following soon after.

That was offense number one (not that you minded.)

Number two came when you were upset, stressed beyond belief from playing politics in the BAU and trying to keep them from another court scandal.

Spencer was reading the file over your shoulder- a list of the BAU’s shortcomings in the words of Erin Strauss- and at your stressed sigh his nose presses into the material of your blazer and then his lips follow.

“I’m sorry angel.” You shake your head at his words.

“Not your fault, Spence. They hired me to play politics but they’re stretching things too far. It’s all a bunch of hypotheticals and exaggerations.”

Spencer knows what it’s like, he’s been under the criticism before with the rest of his team, he’s seen what it can do to be under the microscope like this.

“I can bring you a sugar donut from the kitchen.” You smile, leaning your head back over your chair and onto his chest.

“You’re the best ever.” Spencer rolls his eyes as he kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

Emily sees the next time it happens and she honestly can’t believe her eyes.

Spencer abhors public displays of affection, he really really does. Everyone knows it, and yet you’re sleepy on the jet, already in your pyjamas as you sit beside him.

Despite Strauss’ plan for you to divulge information about the team, they’d all come to love you and your fierce protection of them.

You’re one of them; even before you’d gotten with Spencer.

“Just close your eyes,” Spencer murmurs, his own eyes heavy, but he wants you to sleep first. You’d not been having the best time in Oklahoma with them, you’d been up the majority of the week helping them with the case and keeping the legalities between the jurisdictions and the statue of limitations on some of the evidence.

A yawn tears through your words, “I just wanna finish my tea, Spence.” Spencer hums, watches you take a few more sips of your peppermint tea and then reach for your bag. You tug a thin blanket from it and drape it over your legs.

“You okay, mama?” Derek asks as he sips his bourbon. You turn your head, that sluggish feeling of moving through mud filling your head.

“Tired, dunno how you guys aren’t.”

JJ laughs, “We all slept babe, you were the only one trooping through.”

You shrug, Spencer’s hand tucks between your cheek and shoulder. Emily pretends to be busy pouring her own bourbon while everyone else goes about their own wind down routines, she sees the ease with which Spencer’s nose presses into the hill of your shoulder and then his kiss imprints on the same spot.

You melt under the affection too, a sticky and gooey as your face leans into his palm and your eyes shut.

“Alright, Spence.” She whispers, smiling a little as Spencer strokes your hair and your eyes become heavier.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

✦ ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[moonstruckme]

I don’t know if you currently accept requests but if you do could you write something with Spence where reader isn’t really a touchy kind of person and the team goes out for drinks, r gets drunk and is super touchy with Spencer and he is so flustered but secretly loves it?

If not don’t worry about it<3

Thank you for requesting angel <3

cw: alcohol

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 759 words

“Dave,” Prentiss says firmly, “I’ve got it.” 

“No, you got it last time.” Rossi’s trying to put his credit card down on the tab the waiter left, but Prentiss blocks him with a hand. “Let me take this one.” 

“I don’t care which of them gets it,” you say near Spencer’s ear. “Just glad it’s not me.” He laughs. 

Luckily, you’re not loud enough for anyone to hear but him. You’ve become surprisingly mumbly after a few drinks, imparting your observations and witticisms to Spencer alone, your cheek on his shoulder. Surprisingly tactile, too. 

“What are you doing?” he asks as you trace the creases spanning the insides of his fingers. He doesn’t think you’re doing anything really, drunk enough to be susceptible to whims and mindless fiddling, but Spencer likes to hear you talk. 

You make a muted humming sound. “Reading your finger lines.”

“You mean my palm lines?” 

“No, I mean your finger ones. I’m inventing a new science.” 

Spencer smiles. The tip of your nose is touching the knit of his cardigan, he wonders if it itches. You might not notice, though, with the way you’re so concentrated on his hand. Your lashes shadow your eyes like heavy clouds. 

“You know,” says Spencer, “there’s been some disagreement among biologists about palm lines. They’re called palmar flexion creases, and while it’s largely agreed upon that they form before birth to allow freedom of movement without stretching the skin on our hands, some also think that certain lines can indicate certain medical conditions.” 

“Huh.” You trace your finger down to his palm. “So, sort of like telling the future.” 

“Well, modern medical practitioners can usually identify those conditions early after birth anyway—but sure, if you want to think about it that way.” 

“That’s okay, I’m not that invested in palm line science anyway.” 

You say it placidly, even though you’re not moving away, like nothing is really all that important so long as you’re touching him. The dim, orange bulbs of the lamps in the bar cast shadows under your lashes and in the dip of your cupid’s bow.

Your finger keeps moving absently, past Spencer’s wrist until you’re nudging up his shirtsleeve. “You have really nice forearms,” you murmur. 

Spencer’s skin prickles with a blush. He takes your hand away in an effort to deter you, but you only go along with the deviation, linking your fingers through his. He glances at Garcia, relieved when she’s not looking. Just last week, she’d asked Spencer and Morgan if you secretly didn’t like her. 

I tried to give her a hug, she’d said, pouting confusedly, and she went as stiff as a board. It was the worst rejection I’ve had since high school.

Morgan had laughed. Not everyone is as warm and fuzzy as you are, babygirl. Don’t take it personal. She’s just not the touchy type.

You feel for Spencer’s other hand under the table, seeking to add it to your collection. He gives it over to avoid a fuss. 

On the other end of the table, Rossi seems to have successfully paid the bill. 

“Okay.” He gets up with a sigh, grabbing his coat. “I will see you kids tomorrow.” 

“Bright and early,” JJ agrees with joking weariness. 

As your team starts to get up, say goodbye, and (in Garcia’s case) hurriedly slurp up the remainders of their drinks, Spencer gives your fingers a tentative squeeze. 

“Time to go,” he tells you. 

You sigh heavily, warm breath permeating his cardigan. “Okay. I guess.” 

Spencer’s not entirely sure where your reluctance is coming from—if he were you, he’d be eager for his bed—but you stand without complaint, immediately looping your arm through Spencer’s and leaning comfortably against his side. 

Morgan raises his eyebrows. “Need some help there, pretty boy?” 

“That’s okay.” It’s out before Spencer can think it through, and heat comes to his face when Morgan’s lips lift with a knowing grin. 

Thankfully, Hotch spares him any elaboration. “I can take her home.” He’s watching you severely, the way a strict parent looks at their teenager before reluctantly getting them ibuprofen and a glass of water for the next morning. “She can’t drive.” 

“That’s okay,” Spencer says again. “I can drive her.” 

Hotch’s face is impassive, but Spencer can tell he’s not overly surprised. “Are you sure? I live closer than you do.” 

“I’m sure.” Again, his face heats at what he knows his answer is revealing. But Spencer looks down at you, contented and half asleep against his side, and it’s worth it. “I don’t mind.”