#spencer reid imagines

[loved-reid]

Sweet Dreams

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: The team discovers that all it takes for Spencer to shut up is a specific someone to fall asleep on him.

Warnings: Mentioning of admiring someone while they sleep? Fluff!!

Note: AHHH I LIVE FOR FLUFFY SPENCER FICS

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, for his mouth always seemed to be moving, yet the she wasn’t one to complain.

She liked watching the excitement dance in his eyes as he spoke about science and fun facts that she for sure didn’t know about.

Sometimes, she was going to be honest, she would go to the library and get some fancy book just to rant some facts to him to make her seem smart. Or maybe it was the look on his face when he recognized a reference she made, or how his eyes crinkle when he laughed at her nerdy jokes.

It wasn’t much, just a laugh, but to her they meant everything.

But today, today she was too tied to listen to Spencer, for the words he was saying we’re going right out the other ear once they entered one, yet his voice was something she was always happy to hear.

He was sitting on the jet seat, his bag next to him and his sleeves rolled up, the purple doing wonders to the sight of him. His wrist held a watch, the hands ticking as each second went by, each one occupied with his facts and stories. She was laying beside him, resting her head in her bended elbow, eyes dropping every once in a while before they would flutter open again.

She wanted to stay awake and listen, she really did, but the soothing sound of his voice and the draining case they recently solved prevented her from resisting the urge to sleep.

The only thing truly preventing her from falling into slumber was the fact that her elbow wasn’t the best pillow. She decided to wear a sweater that day, and, as one should know, the texture of the yarn wasn’t too pleasant on one’s cheek, therefore not providing comfort.

She turned her head to and fro, wishing she’d eventually get a sleeping position, therefore getting sleep during the flight that way she’d have at least a little energy to make her way home.

Yet, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t get the right angle.

So, she turned to Spencer. A practical living teddy bear.

And who was Spencer to know that at that moment that he got into the theories of how people started celebrating birthdays she decided to lay her head on his leg?

And, for the first time in years that the time the team has known him, his lips stopped mid-pronunciation of a word, the sound dying on his tongue as he grew absolutely speechless.

He swallowed thickly at the sight of her sleeping on his lap, murmuring little sweet nothings to herself as she slept.

He couldn’t help but admire, staring at her sleeping face (not in a creepy way of course) and eventually built up the courage to play with her hair strands, running the soft material between his finger tips.

Garcia noticed first, for she was one of the few actually listening, therefore causing her to look up. When she did, and what she saw something that she hadn’t expected, and that something was the sweetest thing ever.

Her friend was laying on Spencer’s leg, sleeping soundly as if nothing could bother her. Her arm was draped over his leg as well, hand carelessly on the jet seat between his legs.

The absolute expression of peace had taken over her face, eyelashes fluttering once in a while.

And what surprised her the most was that Spencer didn’t seem bothered at the physical contact. He instead seemed to encourage it, for his fingers were in her hair.

The rest of the team soon noticed, yet they didn’t dare to tease Pretty Boy, for the contentment radiating off them seemed to prevent them from doing so.

[rumplereids]

research purposes.

tags: spencer reid x reader. tech analyst!reader. mentions of 50 shades of grey. bau ladies are like gossiping wine moms. fluff & crack, bcos spencer has been thru enough already. referenced/mentioned sexual acts but nothing explicit. a/n: got inspired by aj cook implying mgg was reading 50 shades + the table read of cm where mgg’s name card was “matthew 50 shades of gray gubler” masterlist. requests are open !

The team is on the jet home from a consultation in San Francisco. Everybody’s either dozing off (Emily and Derek), eating (Rossi), or doing paperwork (Hotch, as usual). JJ is scrolling on her phone, catching up on the pictures and videos Will sent of Henry when she notices something very bizarre.

“Reid, are you reading 50 Shades of Grey?”

“Huh?” he looks up from the paragraph he was reading. Something about not making love and only fucking hard. Or whatever drivel he’s suffering for you.

“I didn’t peg you the type to be reading romance or erotica.”

“It’s for research.”

JJ quirks a brow Spencer doesn’t see. His eyes already returned to the book in his hands.

“Research? For Y/N?”

“Yep,” Spencer turns a page.

JJ continues to gape at him. She wants to press for more details, but with a shake of her head, decides she was better off not knowing the intricacies of the relationship of people she considers her siblings. No matter how baffled she is by the fact that Spencer Reid is reading 50 Shades of Grey, she doubts that she’d want to dip a toe in that rabbit hole. However, she has no qualms of bringing up this certain knowledge in the near future.

Spencer was in a rush to finish his case load for the day. It’s your day off, so he’s doing anything he can so that he can go home earlier than usual. With you out for the day, he can’t even pop into your office to bug you, talk your ear off, or have an impromptu make out session. It was so sad, really.

He’s down to his last three folders when Derek attempts to get his attention.

“Pst! Pretty boy,” Morgan whisper-yells.

“Yes?”

“How’s Y/N?”

Spencer’s a bit perplexed by the question. While it’s not unusual for Derek to worry about your well-being, he finds it a bit weird for Derek to be asking such a question at that exact moment. As far as he knows, you texted Derek 15 minutes ago about mold on the street that you insist looked like the aforementioned man. That was the last time Spencer talked to you as well.

“She’s fine. Enjoying her day off.”

There’s a big grin crawling across Derek’s face. Such a look on a man like Derek Morgan spelled trouble. He looks like he knows something that Spencer doesn’t. Spencer’s starting to get cautious.

“Anything exciting happened to you guys this weekend?” Derek asks with that shit-eating, I-know-something-you-don’t-know grin.

Spencer raises a brow.

“Not much. The usual,” Spencer flips a page in his file.

Morgan hums, “Ah, yes. The usual.”

Spencer looks up at Derek, perplexed. Having no idea what in the world Morgan is trying to get to.

“Late night?” Derek continues. Spencer shuts the folder in his hands.

“Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his work. Completely ignoring the chuckles coming from Morgan.

A few days later, Spencer is making his second cup of coffee at the office kitchenette, bracing himself for another round of paperwork when he hears somebody rush into the room. He turns from the counter to see you, flushed and embarrassed?

“Hey, darling—”

“Why did Penelope ask me how it’s like to have my own Christian Grey?”

“What?” Spencer puts his mug down to turn his full attention on you.

“She barged into my office, asking me what kind of BDSM we’re into!” you devolve into a sort of whisper-yell, eyes shifting as to check if there were other people around. The two of you were alone in the area.

“Why would she ask that?”

“I don’t know? Something about you researching BDSM for me?”

Spencer shuts his eyes in realization, “JJ.”

“JJ? What’s she got to do with this?”

“A week ago, on the jet home from San Francisco. I was reading 50 Shades of Grey.”

You take a pause, “You read 50 Shades? I thought you said it was complete nonsense?”

“My opinion hasn’t changed on that. But I overheard you and Garcia giggling over the movie’s actor… I wanted to see what it was all about.” He tries to be nonchalant with what he’s saying. You completely melt into a puddle.

“Oh, Spence. That is the cutest and sweetest thing that has ever happened to me.”

Spencer blushes red at the comment. All these years together, and you never fail to make him feel so lovestruck and bashful.

He clears a throat, “The BDSM in the book is so atrocious. Have you read it? Or are you only interested in the movie?”

“Just the movie,” you say with a grin.

“Their lack of communication is astounding. It’s completely far off from the BDSM we’re into.”

There’s a gasp behind you. You turn to see Garcia at the entryway of the kitchenette, one mug in hand, the other hand pressed against her chest.

“Oh , I knew it. Ya’ll nasty.”

“Penelope—” you start to speak. She cuts you off.

“I didn’t believe JJ at first when she said Spencer was reading 50 Shades for research. I mean, really, Spencer Reid and BDSM? Never thought to correlate those two things ever in my life,” Penelope rambles, and then mid-thought, she turns to you, “So you do have your own Christian Grey! That’s so sexy— I don’t think that’s the right word considering it’s Reid—” this earns a snort from the man watching amused, standing against the counter, “Have you recreated any scenes from the books?”

“Penelope!” you say, aghast.

“I mean, if Spencer’s using 50 Shades to spice up your sexy times then—”

Spencer begins to laugh. You turn to face him, in disbelief that he can laugh at your mortification.

“Trust me, Penelope,” he says, “we don’t need 50 Shades to spice up our sex lives.”

“Spencer!” You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Penelope looks as if she’s hearing the greatest gossip scandal the world has ever produced.

“50 Shades is tame compared to us.”

“What?!” a third voice enters the conversation. Emily and JJ enter the kitchenette. Emily looked a bit confused, JJ looks just about ready to shit on you too.

You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide away from Spencer’s laughter. Emily, JJ, and Penelope start to bounce comments and choice words between the three of them. You hear words such as ‘unbelievable’, ‘kinky’, and the real kicker, ‘Dr. Reid will see you now’. You want to dig yourself into a hole.

Hands grip your hips, squeezing in silent comfort. Without removing your hands from your face, you mumble, “This is all your fault.” Spencer laughs once more, hands squeezing your hips one more time before he turns to pick up his coffee mug.

He moves to leave the kitchen, turning to you with a smug look on his face before he says, “Laters, baby.”

You refuse to acknowledge the three ladies descending on you like a pack of wolves.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna

[aliteralsemicolon]

Bad, bad news 2 (worse news) - 18+

Masterlist | Part 1

GIF by Reidgif

Requested - "I daydream abt that one fic of yours (bad bad news) from how bad you edged me is it possible that we might get part 2"

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact at all. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNING: Smut, soft dom!/dom! Spencer, slight manhandling, PinV, no mentions of protection, brat tamer if you squint, no rhyme or reason, just mostly filth, ass-obsessed Reid, light/minor spanking, man moaning!!!, slight nipple play, back shot esc.

Word count: 2K See notes at end for author's note & spoilers.

You can only muster a feeble squeak before Spencer tugs you off him and gently tosses you aside. You land on your stomach, nearly face-planting into the bed. When he drags you closer by your legs, you half expect him to turn you around.

And he would, if he wasn't so entranced by the view.

You've pushed yourself up on your arms creating a mouth-watering arch between your lower back and your ass. The way it's raised allows him to catch a glimpse of your glistening cunt. So, so wet and so inviting. He doesn't even realise when his head bobs to plant a hot, sticky kiss to the back of your thigh, sight set between your legs.

It makes you shudder.

"Spence..." His name escapes you in a small gasp as he travels up, leaving a trail of kisses on his way.

You barely get time to react before his mouth meets your cunt, hungry and desperate. The sound of your moan surprises you and your face inevitably falls against the mattress, fingers curling the sheets into a tight fist. He's obviously had a target in mind since the moment he laid eyes on it.

Spencer Reid also has an incredibly good aim.

His arms hook around your legs from under your hips, hands digging into your skin. His lips wrap around your clit and immediately tug. You feel his teeth barely scrape against it before it audibly pops out of his mouth. You whine, instinctively jolting away before pushing yourself closer to him. He doesn't object, licking a slow stripe from your bud to your entrance.

"Please. Please..." You don't know what you're begging for, you just know that you want more.

Not only does he take pride in the fact, but he delivers. His tongue prods your hole, lapping up the fruit of his labour. He's barely begun and you're already lost in his touch. You can feel yourself going limp, succumbing to the pleasure. It takes no time for your orgasm to brew, he knows you're close. Your eager mewls give you away. The thought of tasting your release sends a rush of excitement straight between his legs.

You grind against his tongue and he can't help himself from picturing how good you'd look taking him from behind, just like this. It gives him a new, utterly sinful idea. He lets you ride his face for a little bit longer. You're almost there, but just as quickly as Spencer brings you your orgasm, he snatches it away. And you damn near yell when he does, twisting your head with a displeased frown.

"Baby! Baby, I'm so close. Please–"

He cuts you off with a firm spank, kneeling directly behind you. It doesn't hurt in the slightest, but the sting shocks you enough for you to drop limp, again. He watches you roll your hips, arch deepening as you hum. It's a weak attempt to build some friction. Lust takes him over. If he could pick one, single moment from his entire life to be etched into his brain, it would be this one. More vividly than it already has.

"I told you," he grabs himself from the base, stroking up to his tip and wiping away his pre-cum, "only good girls get to cum."

You whimper when he drags his hardened cock through your folds. That whimper turns into a string of more pathetic whines when he repeats a motion a few more times. He fixates on your clit, rubbing the tip against your extremely fragile bud.

"You have to prove that you're my good girl."

You could honestly cum from this, but he won't let you. Prick. You push your weight onto your arms, turning your head again. Your hair is a mess, eyes wide, brows pleading–you look almost ruined.

"Do you..." You begin to speak, inhaling slowly, tone uncertain. As if you don't know if what you have to offer is sufficient. "Do you want me to suck you off?"

He wants to ruin you. Completely.

"Oh, baby. That's very tempting." He lets go of himself, both hands caressing your skin from thigh to cheek. "But you look so good like this."

You unintentionally whine your hips as he spreads you like he's inspecting the mess he's caused. His tongue swipes his lips in satisfaction.

"Then how?" Your bashfulness has more blood rushing down to his already painfully hard cock.

"Hmmm." He bites his lip, pretending to contemplate, like he hasn't known exactly what he's wanted since he put you in this position. Spencer grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck, just gently guiding your back to his chest. You follow his direction blindly and tilt your head at his command. He nips at the skin below your ear and then you hear his voice–a beautiful combination of gravelly and sweet–whisper to you. "Do you have any idea how pretty you are? Grinding your pretty cunt on me? I could watch you forever."

You pull away from his loose grip to meet his eyes. There's a noticeable lack of brown in his irises, pupils almost completely dark. You don't know whether to be concerned or flattered. He doesn't give you time to think too much about it, steadily lowering you down into your previous position.

"Spence, I'm not sure if I know what you mean." You mumble, hesitantly.

That's when you feel him line himself up with your entrance.

"Give me a show, won't you?"

Six words that stir in your stomach. Goosebumps rise everywhere.

"What?"

"You heard me."

You hesitate. You've never been in this position before, literally. On your knees, bent over with him kneeling behind you. You look back at him, his eyes locking with yours and he's mesmerised. Certain. He tilts his head. Like he expects you to act up. And he's ready to put you right back in your place. Then you remember how you got here. How badly you wanted to make him lose his mind. The stupid bet.

"Will you let me cum after?"

Spencer smirks like he's holding back a chuckle and gives you a light nod. You pout. It's playful. The pout you utilise when you want something.

"Promise?"

He huffs, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Yes. I will make you cum."

You give him the sweetest smile you know to muster and then lean forward, resting your head on the bed and sticking your ass up as far out as you can. His attention returns to where he's patiently waiting for your bodies to connect. You roll your hips again, slowly sinking down on him.

Fuck.

You can't escape the fluttery feeling from every inch of him you take. He throws his head back, hands rushing to grip your skin. Both of you moan loudly, almost primally. By the time he bottoms out, you swear his cock is pulsating from how hard he is.

"God, you feel amazing."

It takes you a few seconds to adjust, breathing deeply to ground yourself. He eases his hold on your flesh and that's when you raise your hips again, maintaining a slow, steady pace. You have to use the back of your hand to muffle your sounds, trying to stay focused on fulfilling his request. He wants a show. You'll give him a show.

You wiggle your hips when you reach the tip, swiftly sink back down and then up. Spencer hisses, hands squeezing you tightly from behind. He can't take his eyes off you, entirely under your spell. He relishes the sight of his cock disappearing in you and the warmth of your walls. You're hot, sweaty, sticky and it's driving him crazy. Only when a strained moan escapes you does he realise that you're holding back.

He doesn't appreciate it.

"Stop that. Let me hear you." He pleads almost out of air. It's polite.

You don't adhere to his request, opting to increase the speed and fluidity of your movements instead. He groans as you clench around him, annoyed at how he's unable to fully enjoy himself because of your restraint.

"Cut it out." He spanks you again only achieving a small squeak before you shake your head defiantly. His breathing is heavy and you can sense his glare. "Can't behave for more than a few minutes."

The snark on your tongue is replaced by a loud moan as his hips impulsively snap into you until his length is impossibly deep inside. You shriek, not expecting him to pull your knees straight out from under you, pinning you flat on your stomach. In that same motion, he lifts your ass just enough for him to comfortably thrust in and out.

You barely get a chance to blink and he's pounding into you. The sheets can't ground you. Every mewl and moan you withheld from him leaves you tenfold.

"That's it, scream for me. Just like that. Oh, baby, yes like that." His grunts lace with your voice, and the sound of skin slapping fills the room. You try to rebel once more, burying your head further against the bed. "No, oh, no."

Spencer pauses for a brief second, roughly grabbing you by your arms and pulling you upright. He pins them in place behind your back, his hold just above your elbows like they're handlebars.

"Hey–ah–Spencer!"

"That–my name–is the only coherent sound I want from you." He slips inside you again, barely giving you time to adjust and then ramping up to a brutal pace. You're on fire, it's like he's reaching every part of you. You can't tell whose moans are louder. He's drilling you at an impossible speed, stretching you open. He yanks you flush against his chest, hands rushing to cup your breasts. Your back stays arched, paralysed from intense pleasure.

"Oh–fuc–uh–Ah! Ah!" Your head falls back and you're basically just yelling.

You're back at the edge of your orgasm before you realise it. It's when you feel him tug your nipples that you know you're done for. He rolls the nubs between his fingers and you're panting like you've gone mad.

"Sp–Spencer, baby–"

"Yeah?" He's panting with you, his breath fanning across your neck.

"Gonna cum–fuck–I'm–so...fuck–"

"C'mon, use your words."

You'd bite back if your brain wasn't so scattered.

"Say it or you don't get to finish."

"Cum! I'm gonna cum! Now! Now! Please!"

Not that either of you has a choice. He's edged you for far too long, your release is inevitable at this point. He gathers as much when you limp in his arms, head lolling from side to side on his shoulder. As if you're trying to run from how overwhelming it is.

"Cum. Cum all over my cock."

That's all you need before the dam breaks. Your legs spasm as the pressure leaves your core, orgasm wracking through your limbs. By the time you come to, you're on your stomach again, Spencer's just watching you, soothingly rubbing your calves on either side of him. You muster any leftover energy to peek back at him. His whole body is flushed.

"How are you feeling? Feeling okay?" He mumbles, out of breath.

"Mhm." You nod, voice hoarse.

You attempt to shift and turn around but he stops you.

"No, don't turn around. You'll get it all over the sheets." You furrow your brows, confused. That's when the warmth on your back registers. "Stay there. I'll get a–"

"You didn't finish inside?" You look betrayed, almost hurt. He knows how much you love it when he cums inside you. You'd think he feels bad and he almost does, but the smirk on his face tells you otherwise.

"Good girls get what they want. Brats take what they're given."

Spoilers: None, you get what you see.

AN - Ermmmm...surprise? This was an entirely spur-of-the-moment decision. I started answering this ask and then started writing within the same answer and just never looked back. Still formatted it nicely for my peace of mind. Please note that this is not who I am (it might be) and this is not a reflection of my writing (it might be). I haven't written smut in sooo long please don't judge me rn.

Also, the title and gif selection were sending me. I really thought it was the funniest thing ever (it was not).

Thank you for reading!

[sinfulspencer]

Flashed

Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 

Words: 5.0k

A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!

MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.

When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 

He was prepared for everything.

Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 

But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 

You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 

Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.

The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 

Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 

What was the problem, then?

Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.

You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 

And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 

He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.

Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.

When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 

‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’

And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 

Or better, undressed. 

That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 

Spencer was excited to bring you there. 

You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 

“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 

The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 

He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 

He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.

But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.

“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”

He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 

“Did I scare you?”

You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”

Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 

“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked

Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”

You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”

As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 

You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 

Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.

If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.

“Oh no.”

“Are you talking to me?”

Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 

“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”

“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.

Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 

They were not. Or maybe they were.

“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”

Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”

“She asked me to bring you, too.” 

“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”

Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”

“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”

You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.

Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 

It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 

“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”

Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.

“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”

As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 

Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 

Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 

“Are you even listening to me, love?” 

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 

“Hm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 

How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 

His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 

“Spencer!”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”

Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.

Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated

Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”

“Look at me, love.”

He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 

It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…

“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”

“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”

“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 

That felt incredibly hot. 

Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”

Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”

You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 

Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”

“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 

He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  

“No harm.”

“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”

Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 

But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.

You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 

“Nothing’s stopping me.”

You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”

Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 

Little minx, Spencer thought. 

“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 

He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.

“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”

Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 

“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”

“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”

Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”

Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 

It made you feel powerful.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 

Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”

But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.

Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 

His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 

“Let me be rough tonight.”

You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 

Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 

“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, love.”

He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”

You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 

“Good girl, that’s it.”

You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 

Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 

Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 

“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”

He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”

When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 

“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”

In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 

You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.

“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”

Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 

The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 

It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.

The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 

“Oh, fuck!”

Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 

You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 

“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”

“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”

You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.

A single tear of frustration. 

Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 

“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”

His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.

And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 

His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 

“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”

Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 

“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.

You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 

“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”

You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  

“My slutty princess.”

You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”

You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 

“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 

Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 

You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 

You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 

“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked

You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”

A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 

It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 

“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”

You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 

Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 

You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 

It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 

“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”

You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 

“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 

Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”

“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”

Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 

“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”

“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”

Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 

“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”

TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft

BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove

[minswriting]

Thoughts on Spencer waking reader up with head? (With prior consent, ofc. And idk if you've done this before, so sorry if you have!!!)

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | somnophilia, oral (f)

spencer waking you up with oral is the best way to be woken up. the way he just crawls under the blankets, spread your legs apart and dives right in with his face. and he isn’t gentle about it either. he is slurping up your juices, sucking on your clit, using his fingers to toy with your hole, and making sure his face is properly buried. and so, when you wake up, already so close to cumming, you moan spencer’s name in a sleepy whine while tugging his hair which in turn causes spencer to groan and chuckle into your cunt. and he’d eat you out until you cum at least twice or until you both need to get out of bed. and it’s always your favorite way to wake up.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Spencer's Secret - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: All Spencer wanted was to finish his paperwork and go home, but now he’s in a bar, drunk, and confessing all his secrets to Derek.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The team had barely settled back into the office after a grueling case when Derek threw an arm over Emily’s shoulder, talking about needing a drink. Emily agreed with a weary smile, and soon enough, JJ, Penelope, and Rossi had chimed in, all eager to unwind together. Somehow, they’d even managed to convince Hotch, who gave them a reluctant nod, his rare smile hinting he could use a break too.

All that was left was Spencer. Sitting at his desk, he was hunched over, diligently finishing up his paperwork, when Derek strolled over and leaned in with his usual, "Hey, pretty boy."

Spencer looked up, already anticipating the question. "No, Derek, I’m not going."

Derek raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "I didn’t even get to ask!"

"Doesn’t matter. I’m not going," Spencer replied firmly, looking back down at his files.

"Come on, kid," Derek urged, his voice dropping to a softer, pleading tone. "Just this once. If you come, I’ll never ask again. I swear."

Spencer let out a sigh, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. There was a beat of silence as he mulled it over, glancing at the hopeful faces of his teammates nearby. Finally, he closed his file, resigned. "Fine," he muttered, “but just this once."

Derek’s face broke into a grin, practically bouncing on his feet. "You heard him, guys—he’s in! Let’s go before he changes his mind."

Spencer reluctantly stood up, pulling on his coat with a sigh. He glanced around, noticing the others already gathering their things, excitement buzzing among them. As they all filed out together, Penelope slung an arm around Spencer, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh, Spence, you’ll have fun. Trust me," she said, winking.

Spencer managed a small, hesitant smile, wondering just what he was getting himself into. It wasn’t exactly his ideal night out, but surrounded by his friends, he couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of anticipation growing despite himself.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As soon as the team settled into the bar, the weight of the last case started to fade. They ordered the first round, eager to drink, laugh, and let loose for a few hours. The drinks flowed freely, and soon they were deep in conversation, sharing old stories and laughing harder with each passing round. Spencer, who rarely drank, was feeling more than a little tipsy. Nights like these weren’t really his scene—he usually found it far more comfortable to stay home. But now, with the warm buzz in his head and his friends around, he was actually enjoying himself.

Meanwhile, Derek had been off flirting at the bar, but eventually made his way back to the booth, where Spencer was the last one still sitting. Derek, who could hold his liquor well, was only slightly buzzed. He noticed Spencer's dazed expression and grinned, sliding into the seat next to him. "Pretty boy," he said, nudging him, "there are so many gorgeous women here tonight. You should go try and have some fun, maybe even get a date."

Spencer, a little too drunk to filter his thoughts, shook his head. "Don’t need a date," he said, his words slurring slightly.

Derek raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh yeah? And why’s that?"

Spencer’s face softened, and he blurted, “I’ve got an amazing girlfriend at home.”

"Right, sure," Derek teased, not at all convinced. "So what’s her name?"

Spencer’s face lit up. "Y/N," he said, his voice full of adoration. He leaned in, eyes dreamy, and started rambling. “She’s incredible, Derek. So smart, so beautiful. She’s way out of my league—I still can’t believe she’s with me.”

Derek chuckled, noticing just how drunk Spencer was. It was getting late, and he knew Spencer would never make it home on his own. “Why don’t you call Y/N to pick you up, then?” he said, jokingly.

Spencer’s face brightened, and he fumbled for his phone. Derek watched in amusement as he dialed, still skeptical, until he heard a faint “Hello?” from the other end.

Spencer’s face lit up even more. “Hello, my love,” he said, voice thick with affection.

You let out a soft laugh on the other side of the line. “Hey, Spence! Everything alright?”

Spencer grinned, completely forgetting why he’d called. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “I just…wanted to hear your pretty voice.”

You laughed, clearly touched. Derek, now genuinely surprised that someone had actually answered, took the phone from Spencer, holding it up to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, still a bit skeptical.

"Uh, hi,” you replied, a little confused. “Who is this?"

Derek cleared his throat. “This is Derek. Spencer friend.”

“Oh! Nice to finally meet you, Derek, Spencer talks about you and the team quite a bit.” you said, sounding amused. “I’m Y/N, his girlfriend.”

Derek muttered, “Holy shit, you’re real.”

"Sorry?" you asked, sounding puzzled.

“Nothing, nothing,” he chuckled. “Listen, Spencer’s had a bit too much to drink. Are you able to pick him up?”

You let out a soft, understanding laugh. “Yeah, of course. Just tell me where you guys are.”

Derek gave you the address and hung up, handing the phone back to Spencer. "Your girlfriend’s coming to get you," he said, still slightly in awe that Spencer’s been hiding a girlfriend from them.

Spencer’s eyes lit up even more. “Y/N?” he asked eagerly.

“Yeah, pretty boy, Y/N,” Derek replied, shaking his head with a grin.

Spencer slumped back in his seat with a satisfied sigh. “Finally,” he mumbled. “Someone cool to hang out with.”

Derek just laughed, patting Spencer on the shoulder. He sat down with Spencer and waited with him for Y/N to get there, eager to meet her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As Spencer was still happily rambling to Derek about his incredible girlfriend, the door opened, and a beautiful woman stepped into the bar. Spencer’s eyes widened instantly. "Y/N!" he exclaimed, jumping up so quickly he nearly tripped. He stumbled over to you, practically throwing himself into your arms, clinging to you like he’d just found his lifeline. He buried his face in your neck, a contented sigh escaping him.

You wrapped your arms around him, laughing softly at his drunken enthusiasm. "Looks like someone had a good time," you teased, rubbing his back.

“Missed you so much,” he mumbled into your neck, his words muffled but unmistakably fond.

Looking up, you noticed a man standing a few steps behind Spencer, observing the two of you with an amused grin. "You must be Derek," you said, offering him a warm smile.

Derek smiled back, giving a nod. "Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you tonight."

Before you could respond, Spencer had already started tugging you gently toward the exit. You glanced back at Derek and gave him a quick smile. "Hopefully we can actually talk sometime soon," you said, laughing as Spencer clung to your arm.

Derek chuckled, nodding. "I’d like that. Take care of him. Goodnight, Y/N."

He watched as you guided a tipsy, lovesick Spencer out of the bar, a soft smile still on his face. Just then, Penelope popped up beside him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “What are you staring at?” she asked, following his gaze to the exit.

“Spencer’s got a girlfriend,” Derek said, unable to keep a little laugh from escaping as he recalled the whole scene.

Penelope’s eyes went wide, and she gasped, practically bouncing in place. "Wait, what?! Our Spencer? Oh my God, I need details!"

Derek smirked, shaking his head. "Calm down, babygirl. You can interrogate him tomorrow," he teased.

Penelope pouted, but the excitement was already building. After a second, she sighed dramatically, then brightened up again and grabbed Derek’s hand. “Fine! But right now, you’re dancing with me.”

Derek let her pull him to the dance floor, chuckling as he made a mental note to tease Spencer about this night for a long time.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[akinsadores]

And I'd give up forever to touch you ,'Cause I know that you feel me somehow ,You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now…

Iris Goo Goo dolls — Spencer Reid dating moodborad

Spencer Reid + Rain = yes please chefs kiss … to things I love most including this song ..

[multific]

Honestly

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: mention of smut, flirting, curse words.

Summary: The BAU never had someone as honest as you. Not everyone was sure how to react to you especially when it came to the boy genius himself.

You always loved how sexy he looked when he was talking.

Even if it was probably the most horrific thing in the world.

You  just love hearing him talk about whatever, keeps you calm, keeps you grounded and it helped you think.

While others might have found it annoying when he was talking because he is so smart or whatever but you absolutely enjoyed every second of it his voice was truly calming. 

During your latest case you were paired up with him to start working on the profile of the unsub, but it was more challenging that you could have ever expected it to be.

So, when the hours turned late and almost everyone left the police station it was only the two of you there.

Spencer was standing in front of the board babbling on about the victims and possible reasons for the unsub to choose them.

Then he turned to you with a question. A question you didn’t hear.

But you answered.

“Honestly, all I want now is for you to bend me over this desk and fuck me while talking about your silly little statistics, Spencer.”

He froze.

For what felt like the first time in his life, he was speechless. 

But you continued.

“Or you could always pull your pants down and I can get on my knees, see if you can concentrate while I suck you off. So, unless you are going to do either, I say we go and sleep.” you stood up stretching before grabbing your bag. “Good night, Handsome.”

You left him standing there like a babbling mess.

The next day, you were once again paired up with Spencer, and you two were sent to the latest victim’s home to look around.

“So, we know the unsub chooses their victims based on their status. He goes after alpha males.” you said as Spencer looked around the office of the victim.

“His desk is lower than the average.” Spencer noted. “He was 6’2 why have such a short desk?” he asked, looking at you.

“His wife is short.” you said and you could see the confusion in his eyes. So, you walked over to the desk and bent over it, proving your point. “Makes things easier.” 

“Oh, okay.” Spencer nodded and turned his back to you, looking anywhere and everywhere.

After leaving the victim’s place you two decided to have lunch and brainstorm.

“So, the unsub chooses alpha males with short wives.” Spencer took a bite of his food before he continued. “What if the point is not to kill the man but to take the husband from their wife.”

“Both victims had short, blonde and pretty wives and both were alpha males. I think our unsub is a woman.”

“That would make sense why the victims were tied down.” 

“I think she is killing the man because she doesn’t see them as worthy. And she is a nail tech.”

“How do you know that?”

“Nail techs know everything about someone’s life. You get your nails done and have a nice conversation. Maybe even talk about your rich, handsome, tall and possibly unfaithful husband.”

“Cheating?” Spencer was thinking for a moment before he nodded. “Makes sense, the first victim constantly removed their wedding ring.”

“So, we are looking for the nail tech of the wives,” you said as you called Penelope to check your theory but before, you looked at Spencer. “Honestly, you could thank me later by eating me out, Handsome.” you winked at him just as Garcia picked up.

—

After catching the unsub, you were heading home on the jet when Spencer sat down next to you. The others were either sleeping or listening to some music to relax.

“Nice job out there.”

“Thank you.”

“So, do you also tell everything to your nail tech?”

“Oh yes, he knows all about you.”

“Oh, so you have a male nail tech?”

“I sure do. Known him since high school.”

“Look, I’m sorry but… I’m thinking about what happened at the police station that night… And I know we were both tired and in need of sleep, so I just want you to know that I will just forget about it.” 

“With your memory? I highly doubt it. And it’s not like I was lying. But you are smart enough to know I have special feelings for you.” he nodded. “Honestly, my offer stands. Take me out to dinner tomorrow and then you can come over?”

“I would like that, very much.” you smiled and nodded at his words.

"It's a date then. But just so you know, I do prefer a bed."

"Honestly, I already knew that." you laughed a little at his reply.

Then, you let out a yawn before putting your head on his shoulder as you got comfortable.

Honestly, you knew this date will be one to remember.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum

@asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[monzabee]

maybe i'm too busy bein' yours (to fall for somebody new) - s. reid

criminal minds masterlist ||

Summary: you’ve been skirting around a relationship with spencer for too long. what happens when you see someone flirting with him?

Pairing: spencer reid x fbi!reader

Word Count: 2.4k 

Warnings: do i wanna know but hozier version, fluff, feeelings, jealousy, kinda angst

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Growing up, Spencer was never a morning person. Hell, he wouldn’t consider himself a morning person up until six months ago. He just couldn’t see the appeal of working up and leaving his warm bed for loud streets and traffic, not as a person who loves to sleep. That was until he ran into you in the elevator six months ago.  

One thing about having an eidetic memory is that Spencer never forgets a face. It comes in handy in his line of work, but it also means that certain moments get stuck in his mind like a song on repeat. Like the first time he saw you on the elevator on his way to work. He can recall the way your eyes half-lidded with sleep, a coffee cup clutched in your hands, and the soft scent of vanilla and something floral trailing in your wake—he remembers you giving him a tired but genuine smile, and just like that, his mornings weren’t so unbearable anymore.  

Since then, mornings have become something else entirely. Something softer. Something brighter. Every day, you meet him in the lobby, sharing coffee and quiet conversation before heading to your desks, most of the time Spencer dropping you off before going to his own floor.  

It’s not anything, not officially, but it’s yours. Or at least, you thought it was. 

Your reason for going up to the BAU’s floor was quite innocent—to return Spencer’s scarf, since he insisted you wear it earlier that morning. You thought it was a nice gesture, certainly gentlemanly, but it didn’t stop you from wanting to see him again. And what better reason than to give him his scarf back? 

But as you step into the bullpen, scarf in hand, the easy excuse you’d crafted suddenly feels flimsy. 

Because Spencer isn’t alone. 

There’s a woman standing beside him, laughing at something he’s said. She’s leaning in just enough to make your stomach twist, and worse, Spencer is smiling back at her—really smiling. Not the polite, tight-lipped kind he gives strangers, but the soft, slightly bashful one. The one he gives you. 

You should turn around. Leave the scarf on his desk and go. But instead, your feet carry you forward before you can stop them. “Hey, Spencer.” 

His head snaps up instantly, and the second he sees you, his whole expression changes. His eyes soften, the easy grin slipping into something gentler, like you’ve just pulled him out of a conversation he wasn’t really invested in. “Hey,” he says, voice warm, and you can see the way his smile reaches his eyes. “What are you doing up here?” 

You hold up the scarf. “Returning this.” He takes it from your hands without looking away, his fingers brushing yours. The contact is brief, and you wish it would last longer, but his eyes never pull away from yours. For a moment, it’s only the two of you, and you don’t even realize you’re being watched. 

The woman beside him shifts, her gaze flicking between you and Spencer with quiet curiosity. You notice it then—the way she’s still standing close, still waiting for him to turn back to her, still expecting his attention. 

And for the first time in six months, you wonder if maybe you were wrong about this. About him. 

The thought makes your stomach twist. You step back. “Well, I should get going,” you say, forcing a small smile. 

Spencer blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that. “Wait—will I see you for lunch?” 

You hesitate. 

Lunch. Like always. Like nothing has changed. Like you didn’t just feel something sharp and unfamiliar wedge itself between the two of you. You should say yes. You should nod and tell him you’ll meet him in the lobby at noon, just like every other day. But the words don’t come. Instead, you shift your weight, offering another tight smile. “I’ve got a lot to do today,” you say, keeping your voice light, casual. “Maybe another time.” Spencer frowns, barely perceptible, but you notice it anyway. He opens his mouth like he wants to protest, wants to ask you what’s wrong, but then the woman beside him clears her throat, and you are suddenly reminded of the very real fact that you are not alone with each other. You take the opportunity to leave. “See you tomorrow, Spencer.” 

The way to your office is a blur. You barely register the hallways, the murmur of conversations around you, or even the soft chime of the elevator as the doors slide shut. All you know is the tightness in your chest, the way your fingers curl into your palms, the lingering ghost of Spencer’s touch on your skin. 

You shouldn’t feel like this. It wasn’t like he was yours. Even though it feels like that in some moments, he isn’t yours, and you know it. If anything, what happened is nothing but a bitter reminder that Spencer is not yours. But you can’t help but think about a certain doctor as you try to go on about your day. Evading Spencer at lunch proves to be a hard task—you almost don’t see him waiting for you outside of the glass doors. Once you do, you quickly turn on your heels to walk the opposite direction. You know he saw you. You feel it in the way your pulse quickens, in the weight of his gaze on your back. But Spencer doesn’t call after you. He lets you go, and somehow, it feels like another loss. 

Though you are not a paranoid person, you are exhausted by the end of the day—trying to outrun someone as persistent as Spencer Reid is no easy feat. He’s always been observant, always been able to piece things together with frightening accuracy. And now, you can feel his presence like a shadow trailing behind you, quiet but unwavering. 

You just need to make it to the elevator. 

You step into the hallway, your mind already on the comfort of your apartment, the silence of your space— 

“Stop.” His voice stops you in your tracks. 

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before turning around. Spencer stands just a few feet away, his expression a mixture of concern and quiet frustration. His tie is slightly loosened, his hair a little more unruly than it was this morning. He looks…tired. 

“Oh, hi!” Your voice comes out too bright, too forced, and Spencer’s frown deepens. He doesn’t move closer, but his gaze locks onto yours, and you know he’s figured you out.  

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, not as an accusation, but as a statement of fact. Under normal circumstances, you’d want to kiss the frown away—not that you’d act on it, but still. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” 

You let out a dry laugh, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “I’ve just been busy, Spencer, nothing is wrong.” 

His lips press together. “That’s not true.” 

Your fingers tighten around the strap. “Look, it’s been a long day. Can we—” 

“No,” he interrupts, voice quiet but firm. “Because if I let you walk away now, I know you won’t let me find you tomorrow.” 

You can tell he’s starting to get frustrated by the way his voice is getting higher in pitch, but there’s something else there too—something softer, almost vulnerable. It makes your chest ache. 

“Spencer,” you start, trying for patience, but your voice wavers, betraying you. 

His brows furrow, and he takes a cautious step forward. “Was it Natalie?” 

The name alone makes your throat tighten. You don’t mean to react, but Spencer notices—of course, he does. His expression shifts, understanding dawning in his eyes. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Spencer.” 

His eyes search yours, the way they always do when he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. “Yes, you do,” he murmurs. “The woman I was talking to this morning.” 

You force a small shrug. “If you say so.” 

“She’s a friend,” he says, like that should fix everything. Like that should undo the way your stomach twisted when you saw them together. And maybe it should, or rather, it would—but all your common sense is reduced to nothing but pettiness as you roll your eyes at his words.  

“Like I said, Spencer,” you sigh softly, “if you say so.” 

Spencer exhales sharply, his frustration mounting. “That’s not fair.” 

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “Excuse me?” 

“It’s not fair,” he repeats, his voice a little quieter but no less firm. “You’re upset, but instead of talking to me about it, you’re just…” He gestures vaguely, searching for the right word. “Shutting me out.” 

You hate this. You hate how transparent you are with him, how easily he sees through you when you’ve spent the entire day trying to convince yourself that you’re fine. “Spencer,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s late. I’m tired. Can we not do this right now?” 

His lips part like he wants to argue, but something in your expression must stop him. Instead, he drags a hand through his already-messy hair, exhaling through his nose. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “She’s married,” he says simply. 

Your stomach drops. “What?” 

“Natalie,” he clarifies. “She’s married. She was showing me pictures of her kid.” 

Heat rushes to your face. “Oh. Oh.” 

His lips twitch like he wants to smile but knows better than to push his luck. “Yeah. Oh.” 

You shift awkwardly, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous this must look. “I—” You clear your throat, shaking your head. “I should go.” 

“Wait.” Spencer steps forward, hesitating just enough to give you a chance to pull away. But you don’t. His hand hovers near yours—not quite touching, but close enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the quiet patience in the way he waits for you to decide. “Can we talk?” His voice is softer now, not frustrated or sharp, just…hopeful. 

You swallow. “What's there to talk about?” 

His lips twitch, just barely, as he gives you a knowing look. “Do I really need to answer that?” 

You glance away, your fingers curling into the strap of your bag. “Spence…” 

“I like you.” He blurts out, his eyes wide as his mouth hangs open for a little bit, “And I think you like me too.” 

Your breath catches. Your head snaps up, eyes wide. “What?” 

“I like you,” he repeats, and for once, there’s no hesitation in his voice. “I thought… I thought that was obvious. And I think... I think you like me too.” 

Obvious? 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he murmurs.  Your lips part, but no words come out. Because he isn’t wrong. And you both know it. Spencer takes a step closer. This time, he does take your hand, fingers sliding between yours with careful certainty. His grip is warm, steady, grounding. “I don’t want to spend another day wondering if I’m going to lose you over something that isn’t even real,” he says, voice quiet but firm. “I don’t want you to walk away thinking you’re not the most important part of my day.” It would be so easy to let yourself believe him, to let yourself fall into this moment and everything it promises. But you’re still scared. You’re still holding onto that sliver of doubt, that small voice whispering, what if you’re wrong? Spencer squeezes your hand gently, like he knows. Like he understands exactly what’s going through your head. “I don’t want to be just mornings and coffee and elevator rides,” he continues. “I want more. I want—” He swallows. “I want you.” 

It’s too much. It’s everything. 

And yet, you find yourself whispering, “Okay.” 

His breath shudders out of him, like he’d been holding it this entire time. “Okay?” 

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah.” 

Spencer’s own smile is slow, hesitant, but real. “Okay.” Spencer’s fingers tighten around yours, just barely, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. “I don’t really know what happens next,” he admits, voice quieter now, like he’s afraid saying it too loud will break whatever spell has wrapped around the two of you, “but I think we should go out—for dinner, I mean.” 

You let out a breathless laugh, something warm bubbling in your chest. “I—okay.” 

  His lips twitch, something close to a smile. “Statistically speaking, relationships that begin as friendships tend to have a stronger foundation.” 

You raise a brow. “Are you really throwing statistics at me right now?” 

He shifts, looking adorably sheepish. “It’s kind of my default setting when I don’t know what to say.” 

There’s something impossibly endearing about the way he looks at you, equal parts hesitant and hopeful, like he’s still waiting for you to change your mind. And maybe that’s what finally makes you move. “So... where are you going to take me for dinner?” 

Spencer blinks, like he hadn’t actually expected you to say yes. His grip on your hand tightens slightly before he remembers to let go, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he always does when he’s thinking too hard. 

“Well, um,” he starts, shifting his weight, “there’s this new Italian place downtown—statistically speaking, Italian cuisine is one of the most universally enjoyed options for a first date, given its balance of flavor, variety, and the psychological comfort associated with pasta-based dishes.” 

You bite back a smile. “Spencer, are you reciting statistics about our date?” 

His cheeks flush instantly. “No?” 

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Okay, Italian sounds great.” 

Spencer exhales, a small, barely-there smile tugging at his lips like he still can’t quite believe this is happening. “Great,” he murmurs. Then, after a beat, “Should I pick you up? Or would you prefer to meet there?” 

You tilt your head, watching the way he shifts his weight like he’s already overthinking. It’s endearing, the way he wants to get this right. “You can pick me up,” you say, and Spencer visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping slightly. 

“Okay. Seven?” 

“Seven,” you confirm. 

There’s a pause, a quiet moment where neither of you moves, like you’re both lingering in the presence of one another. You can feel Spencer’s gaze on you, soft and searching, like he’s memorizing this moment the way he memorizes everything else. 

And maybe you are, too. 

Finally, you step back, giving him a small smile. “Don’t be late, Doctor Reid.” 

His lips twitch. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

You nod, then turn, making your way toward the elevator. You don’t need to look back to know he’s still standing there, watching you go. 

[jellesreid]

You Belong With Us

In which Spencer meets the reader at work, becomes the step father to her daughter and they go to the eras tour together. (fluff!)

tags: really cute dad!spencer, family, love, concert, first concert, eras tour, taylor swift, swifties, friendship bracelets, princess and cowboy outfits, spencer in a cowboy hat, step father, long term relationship, protective spencer, spencer dancing with reader’s daughter, super fluffy, tooth rotting fluff.

notes: I hope you find this super adorable, I love dad spencer with my entire heart

—————————🎸————————-

When you started at the Behavioural Analysis Unit the last thing you expected was to meet someone like Spencer but you’re insanely glad you did. 

When he met your daughter she was only five months old and he acted like a father to her right from that first day and he still did now 3 years later. 

You’re daughter, Delilah, was one of the biggest Taylor Swift fans due to your love for the singer and when you found out she was doing a tour there was no way you couldn’t get tickets.

Spencer insisted he come with you to the concert to look after the both of you as it was a busy place. Of course, you could look after yourself and Delilah on your own but you’re glad he wanted to come, he always wanted to be around you both. 

In the weeks leading up to the concert all of Spencer’s free time was spent in Delilah’s playroom at the arts and crafts table with the little girl on his lap as he tied the friendship bracelet she made, he had to help her with her smaller beads as well since she couldn’t quite thread those through yet without getting upset at it not going right on her first try.

You watched from the doorway as Delilah threaded some beads onto some elastic and Spencer stuck some stickers on a pair of headphones, which seemed a bit strange to you.

“Dada tie pwease! Hi mommy,” Delilah said skipping over to Spencer holding the bracelet tight. 

Spencer looked up at her, reaching for the bracelet before looking at you, “Hi honey.”

“Hi, my favourite people ever,” You said, taking a seat across from Spencer on the small pink chairs, “What are you doing?” 

“Making friendship bracelets for the concert, Daddy said I have one-hundrwed and twenty-four,” Your daughter said, showing you inside the bag. 

“Wow baby that’s a lot, I think that’s enough now, What about you babe?”

“I’m decorating a pair of ear defenders with cute stickers for Delilah to wear at the concert because children have more sensitive ears compared to us adults and the noise at a concert can exceed 100 decibels making it unsafe for children, it can result in noise-induced hearing loss.”

“But what if I can’t hear Taylor,” Delilah pouted. 

“You will still be able to hear her sweetheart it just won’t be as loud which will protect your ears,” Spencer reassured stroking her back. 

“That’s very sweet of you Spence thank you.” 

“Will you let me dress you up!” Delilah cut you off before you could even finish. 

“I thought you and Mommy were dressing up?” 

“We are but you could too! What about a cowboy hat and lots of bracelets,” Delilah grinned mischievously. 

“Leave him alone baby, I don’t think he wants to be dressed up,” You said trying to help him out. 

“But- pleaseeee,” Delilah’s eyes shinned with tears, once she had something in her head it was not easy to convince her to let it go. 

“If you want me to dress up I will, am I going as some kind of cowboy?” He asked running the pad of his thumb over her cheek where one tear had fallen. 

“You don’t have to Spence.”

“It’s fine I would do anything for her.”

“Daddy loves me not you!” Delilah stuck her tongue out to you.

“I love both of you,” He replied.

————

The day of the concert, Delilah ran into your bedroom as soon as the light began to shine through the curtains. She scrambled onto the bed trying to find a space between you and Spencer. 

“Wake up,” she ‘whispered’, “It’s time to get dressed! Taylor day!!” And that you and Spencer were awake way before 6 am when you had a long day ahead of you.

By 10 am you and Delilah were in your matching outfits which were a pair of cowboy boots, and a blush pink dress as she had said it would make you both look like princesses. You’d finished curling her hair adding in little gems and were about to do your hair while Delilah chose Spencer's outfit. 

“Mommy, what do cowboys wear?” 

“Umm, I don’t think Dada has any ‘cowboy clothes’ baby so maybe pick a t-shirt, a flannel shirt and some jeans?”

“What is a flannel shirt,” Delilah raised an eyebrow, “Also I not a baby I’m princess!”

“Sorry princess. Spence honey can you help her please.”

Spencer opened the closet getting out the things you had listed for him to wear, “Here is this a good enough outfit, Princess Delilah?”

“Hm yep with some face stickers, sparkles and bracelets of course!” She giggled.

Once Spencer was dressed Delilah got to work sticking face gemstones on his cheekbones and forehead before adding some bracelets she made and his cowboy hat. 

“Now we see Mommy for glitter,” She said taking his hand.

When they walked over you were finishing your lipstick and your heart instantly melted at what Spencer had let your daughter do to him. 

“Oh, you both look wonderful!” You laughed kissing Spencer’s cheek lightly, “Are you both ready?”

“Close, me and Daddy need a little bit of sparkle glitter and me want lipstick pwease,” Delilah said climbing onto the make-up stool.

“On it,” You brushed some glitter on his face while whispering an apology to him before turning to Delilah and doing hers. 

—————

You had picked seats with no one sitting behind you in case you needed to hold Delilah so she could see and so it wasn’t too busy around her for her first time at a concert. 

Spencer left you at your seats to get some bottles of water as it was warm out and he wanted to make sure you stayed hydrated. 

By the time Spencer was back the countdown had started and everyone was cheering loudly. 

Delilah covered her small ears with her hands jogging Spencer’s memory of the ear defenders, he reached into his bag and took them out placing them over her ears gently after she took her hands away. 

“Can you still hear baby?” Spencer asked.

The little girl nodded before pointing, “Yeah but I can’t see Taylor.”

Spencer picked Delilah up placing her on his shoulders and that’s where she remained for the rest of the night unless they took sitting breaks or toilet breaks as it was a long concert. 

As much as Taylor’s performance was incredible and you wanted to watch her as much as possible you couldn’t seem to draw your eyes away from your beautiful daughter and your incredible boyfriend, he was the most wonderful dad ever to her. 

Occasionally Delilah would come down from his shoulders and ask both of you to dance with her in the small space you had between your seats.

At one point during the concert, you began filming Delilah and Spencer dancing with each other when you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

You turned your head to see a woman smiling at the three of you. 

“He is an excellent father,” she said. 

“He is, he’s amazing,” You replied, you were glad you caught that on the video you were taking to show to Spencer later or when he was in one of his spells having doubts about being a good dad.

“When are you having your next?” 

“Oh, I’m not sure, I don’t know if we are having any more yet.”

The woman nods at her, “Well I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Thank you, you as well,” you said to her before wrapping your arms around Spencer’s waist. 

“Are you having fun sweetheart?” He asked, running his hand over your arm. 

“Of course, so much fun! I love watching you and Delilah dancing.” 

Spencer laughs, “She’s going to be shattered by the end of the concert.” 

“Shame she’s getting too heavy for me to carry,” you giggled.

“You're definitely strong enough to carry her, but you know I will.” 

—————

And just as Spencer had predicted by the time you were leaving the venue Delilah was whining saying she was tired and when you were in the queue to get the subway back to the car park she was already in Spencer's arms sleeping against his chest. 

The both of you sat in the free seats on the subway which were opposite each other, Delilah was cuddled up to Spencer on his lap. It made your heart swell seeing how she had her head rested against his chest and her hand was fisted holding onto his shirt while the bracelets that were too big for her wrists rolled down her wrists.

Spencer placed a soft kiss on the top of Delilah’s head before stroking her hair to comfort her around the loud noise of the subway and crowds of people, hoping the noises combined wouldn’t wake her.

You snapped a few pictures of them together before reaching across the aisle to hold his hand for a quick moment. 

“Tired?” he mouthed.

“So tired,” You mouthed back. 

“I love you,” He mouthed once again. 

“I love you too.”

—————————🎸————————

[criminallyvenomous]

Cat Toys & Blanket Covered Boys

•Plot - In which you and Spencer enjoy a day off together, glad to be able to be together instead of in secret, when Penelope stops by to deliver a present for your cat and sees a sight she’d rather not.

•Warnings - Suggestive content, mentions of sex, but ultimately pretty fluffy (as usual for me)

•Word Count - 537

•A/N - please send requests lol

It had been a really good day off. You’d think working with your boyfriend every day would make you want some time apart. Yet, in reality when it came to Spencer, you just wanted time between the two of you where you could be a couple. Where you could be intimate in any way you desired. From hand holding during suspenseful scenes in movies, to random moments where you two just decide to jump each other’s bones.

Which is what happened today. You were watching something on Hulu with Spencer by your side and your cat on the edge of the couch. He had gotten quite fond of your partner. By the time the movie ended and credits began to roll in, you noticed your cat had gone off to another room and it was just you and Spencer and my god did he look good.

It was relatively short compared to your usual sessions, but enjoyable nonetheless. You probably would’ve continued on if the two of you weren’t so exhausted from working that week. You were too tired to even get dressed again, deciding that a shared blanket was good enough.

That was when a knock rang through the door, followed by another, and another. Spencer looked to you and you shrugged.

“Probably a delivery, I’ll get it.” You slipped on your shirt from the floor and followed it with Spencer’s boxers. They were basically like shorts on you. You turned to Spencer, smiling, then went to the door.

“Y/N!” Penelope chirped and took a step in from the doorway. “I saw this in the pet store window and needed to get it for my little kitty godson.”

“Awh, thank you. I’m sure he’ll love it.” You smiled gratefully.

“Where is he? I wanna see his reaction.” She started jingling the cute little squid toy and entering the apartment.

“Hey..” You tried to stop her, but it was too late.

It was complete silence other than the final jingle of the toy as it hit the floor. Penelope was slack jawed and staring directly at Spencer, who was trying to cover as much as he could with the throw blanket as he awkwardly sat up on the couch.

“What? How? What?” She was stuttering. You knew it was bad when you left Penelope speechless. You walked over to stand between the two of them.

“Now’s not a great time.”

“I can see that.” Her expression went from shock to a twisted smile as she looked from you to him and from him to you.

“Please don’t say anything.” Spencer finally spoke, blushing like a schoolgirl.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

She excused herself, but before she left your cat walked up to the toy and began playing with it, breaking the awkwardness. You chuckled at the sight.

“I’m so glad you like it!” She said to him, trying to ignore the sight of the essentially naked Dr. Reid on your couch.

“We’ll have to schedule a playdate with Sergio again. He misses his buddy.” You said as you ushered her out.

When the door closed, you sat against it, defeated.

“What the fuck?” You laughed and looked towards Spencer who smiled, laughing along.

[blluesiide]

You stop dead in your tracks, preventing yourself from calling out and ruin the moment in front of you.

Spencer sleeping on the sofa, one of his classical records playing softly on the victrola in the background.

You lower your things to the ground, softly padding over to sit down in front of the sofa.

He's peaceful like this, truly peaceful, even nightmares wouldn't have the audacity to bother him in this state.

You watch him sleep, listening to him breathe evenly, steadily for a while before you can't help yourself, anymore.

You reach a gentle hand out to softly pet his grown out curls. You manage to do it for a while before he finally stirs, softly letting out a quiet, "What?"

"Nothing, sweetheart." You lean in to press a kiss to his sleep warmed forehead, "Go back to sleep."

His eyes close automatically, his hand softly flopping over the edge of the sofa to tug at your sleeve loosely.

You don't hesitate, pushing yourself up and carefully laying yourself along the sofa with him.

He lets out a soft sigh of content, his arm drooping over you heavily, asleep again within seconds.

You smile against his neck, burying yourself there, letting the soft violins carry you and him away into a gentle slumber, that for the sake of your backs, may eventually end up in your actual bed.

[rumplereids]

spoiled rotten.

tags: spencer reid x reader. social media au. spencer sugar daddy era?? jk a/n: honestly, i dont think spencer is the type to spend a lot of money on material things (besides books, and maybe a cologne or two) BUT he would 100% want to be able to spoil his s/o bcos (inserts rant abt money insecure reid pre-s1) requested? yes ! thank u so much for the req <33 masterlist. requests are open !

[blairenqs]

୨୧ LATE-NIGHT CRAVINGS ✧ SPENCER REID

───── IN WHICH 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 !

𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗂𝖽 𝓍 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝟣.𝟢𝖪 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ♡ ⎯⎯ 𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝒾𝖵𝖤

THE MOTEL ROOM is silent other than the annoying buzz of the air conditioner and the occasional loud creaks of the bedframe whenever you shift your body.

you’re really trying your best to not move too much, trying not to disturb the man lying next to you—spencer’s snores fill the room, his face relaxed in a way you don’t get to see often enough.

today had been a brutal one—a long day of sorting through evidence, and the stress of knowing someone’s life might depend on you solving this case quickly.

you watched spencer through the day, his mind overworking itself more than usual and connecting dots no one else could.

but now, with the relaxed face of finally getting sleep softening his features, he looks so peaceful. and you would give anything not to ruin that. but unfortunately you’re also pregnant—and the craving is unbearable. —READ MORE!

it started off as a mindless thought—how good a cheeseburger would taste at the moment, but that thought spiralled into imagining every detail—the cheese in between a warm toasted bun, a side of sweet potato fries on the side.

it’s quite literally ridiculous. it’s just food. yet, here you are—lying wide awake, biting your lip to keep yourself from crying because somehow it feels like the most urgent thing in the world.

a tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it, and you sniffle softly. you turn your face into the pillow, hoping spencer won’t hear. but, of course—he does.

he stirs beside you, groggy and confused, his voice is warm and still heavy with sleep, yet you could hear the undeniable concern. “hey… are you okay?”

you curse yourself for waking him up, wiping away your tears quickly. “i’m fine,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “i didn’t mean to wake you, spence. go back to sleep, okay?”

he doesn’t listen. he never does when it comes to you. he sits up urgently, rubbing at his eyes as he glances over at you. even in the dim light of the crappy motel room lamp, you can see the worry on his face.

“you’re crying love,” he says softly, scooting closer to you. his hand intertwine with yours underneath the thick blanket. “what’s wrong? did the baby kick too hard? are you in pain?”

“no,” you cry, shaking your head. you hate this. you hate the fact that he’s awake and worried because of something so insignificant and small. “talk to me,” he presses gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “please.”

you take a hesitant breath, feeling ridiculous but knowing that he won’t let it go. “i’m…i’m craving a cheeseburger,” you whisper, shaking your head in embarrassment.

his head tilts, his brows pulling together in that familiar way, like he’s working out a word puzzle. “a cheeseburger?”

you groan and hide your face in your hands. “i know it’s stupid, spence. i just couldn’t stop thinking about it, and then i felt bad for wanting it, and now i feel even worse for waking you up, and—”

“hey, stop,” he says, his voice cutting through your panicked rambling. he leans over, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

his fingers are warm against your skin, his touch comforting you. “you didn’t wake me up, okay? and even if you did, i don’t care. i want to be here for you, okay? whatever you need.”

your chest tightens again, but this time it’s not from frustration. “it’s just the fact that you were so exhausted. i didn’t want to bother you over something so dumb—”

his eyes softened at your confession , and he shifts closer, his arm sliding around your waist as he pulls your body into his. “it’s not dumb,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your hairline.

“you’re growing a human inside of you. if your body wants a cheeseburger, then it’s not dumb, love. it’s important.”

you laugh quietly, a sound that turns into a sniffle. “you’re making it sound a lot more dramatic than it is.”

“i don’t think it’s dramatic at all,” he replies, pressing another kiss to your temple, then your cheek, and finally to your lips.

it’s a soft, reassuring kiss, full of all the tenderness he’s never been great at putting into words. “you’re not a bother. you could never be a bother. i love you.”

it’s hard to believe anyone could mean those words as much as he does, but spencer has this way of saying things that makes you believe in them—believe in him.

“i love you too, spence,” you whisper.

he smiles, a smile so sweet that it makes your heart ache. “good,” he says, brushing his nose against yours playfully. “now, let’s go get you that cheeseburger.”

you blink at him, surprised. “spence, you don’t have to do that. it’s the middle of the night—”

“i know,” he interrupts, already reaching for his jacket draped over the chair. “but i want to—and while we’re at it, we can get those milkshakes from the diner down the road you like.”

you sit up, watching him put on his shoes, his bedhead sticking out in every direction. the sight is almost enough to make you cry all over again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

as he grabs the keys and turns to you with a soft, unguarded grin, you realize there’s no use in arguing. spencer reid would move heaven and earth for you without a second thought—and he would do it with that same sleepy, loving smile on his face.

he reaches out his hand to help you up, and you take it, your fingers locking in with his.

together, you step out into the cool night air, yet you feel warm—the warmth of his love wrapped tightly around you.

𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

© blairenqs 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

✧ 𝑓. hi guys..😓 it’s been a while… anyways let’s forget i disappeared for a month and talk about how everybody is meeting mgg in toronto while i’m stuck in ugly miserable vancouver !!!! i’m so so jealous i could cry. also this is based off my pregnant cousin waking up one day and crying bc we didn’t have any food at home LOL

𓂃ㅤ 𝓉𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ୨୧ @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @lcvealwayss @viennasolace ♡ thank you so much for joining !

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: you’re used to me disappearing for months but I hope by now you can trust that I’ll always come back x

warnings: reader is a victim of misogyny (aren’t we all)

In A World Of Boys

Doctor Spencer Reid. His name alone sends your heart thrumming as the elevator ascends, your shoes tapping against the metal ground with excitement and impatience in equal measure. It isn’t unusual for a case to have called the team in at the crack of dawn, but that was not something you ever imagined you’d actively look forward to. Then again, you couldn’t have counted on the sunrise casting a soft pink, almost heavenly glow to illuminate the office that seemed to converge around one man in particular the moment you saw him.

He approaches you with a warm smile, one mug held to his lips and another held in an outstretched hand, for you. Made just the way you liked it; not that you ever verbalized such details, someone’s eidetic memory just thought to pay attention to how you prepared your hot drinks until it was a task that could be taken off your hands entirely.

“Good morning.” Spencer greets you, a playful lilt in his voice at just how early this morning is.

“Morning, and cheers.” You share a light chuckle as you clink your mugs together in a gesture of soft comradery, your gazes locking as you take a simultaneous sip.

Such a thing is officially a symbol of trust, but the look in Spencer’s eyes is enough to hold you still if the ground was ripped out from beneath you. His curls are a little disheveled, as always, and his tie is as crooked as ever. Ruggedly handsome would be an accurate description, if you didn’t know Spencer better than that, know him to be so much gentler than such a roughened description. And your heart sings for him.

A tradition you’ve come to appreciate amongst the BAU during longer flights is sharing stories of their shared pasts. The tales are typically hilarious at the expense of one team member or another, but it is all in jest, and as the newest member of the team, you love hearing about their funniest moments from before you had known the people who have welcomed you so openly.

“Oh, we have to talk about the pool incident! What was her name, Spence?” JJ asks with a mischievous glint in her eye, the team’s attention pulled entirely to Spencer.

You can’t withhold the shocked expression on your face, you’ve not heard of any previous romantic encounters in Spencer’s life; this should be interesting.

“It was Lila, wasn’t it? C’mon, Spence, it’s been years, you can tell us now!” JJ presses, the rest of the team egging her on, but you stay quiet, your interest piqued to the extent that you can’t utter a word.

“Lila was an admirably strong woman, but as much as I hate to disappoint, there’s really nothing more to tell.” Spencer shrugs, smile unreadable.

In his former years, such a question would have flustered him, but not anymore. His answer is enough to fluster you, however. A man who doesn’t kiss and tell, and is so quietly firm in such a resolve, is one to keep in mind.

As if to make matters worse, Spencer then rises from his seat on the jet and strolls past you, making the effort to lean away from you - in case any sudden turbulence should unsteady him, he won’t risk even nudging you - on his journey to the galley. And the way he walks, the delicate trail of his cologne lingering in his wake when he passes your seat, is dizzying.

This is a moment that you know you will never forget, and you can’t help envying the fact that Spencer can so effortlessly recall every moment spent with you in the depths of eidetic memory. It’s almost ritualistic, how you lie in bed every night and replay your most treasured moments with Spencer, to send yourself to a peaceful sleep in which you hope to dream of him. Part of you wonders if he ever replays moments with you in his mind, with more clarity than you can ever hope to possess.

Little do you know, you are his favorite film.

On nights when insomnia strikes, you are the guaranteed remedy. When it is for you, Spencer’s eidetic memory is nothing short of a gift. He has a library dedicated to you, containing every look in your eyes, every micro-expression, every variation of your laugh, your smile, every word you have ever said in his presence. Sometimes, it takes him hours to decide which memory of you he’ll replay before he allows himself to sleep.

Neither of you are aware of how many nights you have spent lying awake in the same hours, focussing on the very same memories. While you absentmindedly play with the little flower charm on the necklace that Spencer bought you for your birthday, his gaze will drift to the special edition of Frankenstein that you bought him, for no reason other than it made you think of him. Of course, Spencer already had a copy, but the one from you lives on his bedside table. He had the edition completely memorized in a matter of minutes, but he has devoted more time to rereading that book than he has any other, because you gifted it to him. Sometimes, Spencer traces the spine and wonders where you’d held it before gifting it to him; if that will be as close as he ever comes to the blessing of one day holding your hand.

One of your most vivid memories with Spencer - and one that you frequently use to fall asleep with a smile on your face - first came to be during your second week working with the team. You didn’t know Spencer very well then, but you knew enough to be besotted by him; you knew that from the moment his eyes first met yours. A case required an undercover mission centered around you, as the only member of the team to fit the unsub’s type. While you could have handled the mission on your own, Spencer insisted that he be placed undercover inside the club you were set to enter, posing as a member of the public, to ensure you had immediate backup if you needed it. The undercover mission itself went without a hitch, though Spencer spent the duration of it trying his very best not to crush the glass he pretended to nurse in his hand as he watched the unsub flirt with you mercilessly, and without an ounce of respect. When the unsub was arrested and dragged out of the bar, you and Spencer followed, and he went to one of the government-issued vehicles to grab his FBI jacket for you while advising you to stand in the doorway and wait. He didn’t want you getting cold in your pretty dress, but that was a detail he kept to himself.

As you stood in the doorway, leaning against a wall with your arms crossed over your chest, the wind caught the thigh-high slit in your dress, exposing the skin of your thigh only momentarily, but it was enough for some sleazy, drunk middle-aged man to leer out you.

“Sexy lady!” He had called out to you in a slurred voice, opening his arms to you, beer bottle in hand.

And, as every woman has learnt to do, you gave him your best, tight lipped, polite smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” You answered as evenly as you could.

In an instant, the sleaze’s smirk was gone, replaced with an almost disgusted frown.

“Stupid slut.” He muttered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, but in the time it took for your eyes to widen, Spencer had pinned the man’s hands behind his back and sent the beer bottle shattering on the ground - collateral damage from shoving the sleaze into the nearest wall.

“You are under arrest for drunk and disorderly behaviour, as well as sexual harassment, and absolutely any other charge I can find when I dig up every morsel of your existence.” Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, but they were sharper than any you’d ever heard, dripping with a venom you didn’t imagine he was capable of possessing then.

After tossing the drunk misogynist into the back of one of the police cars still on the scene from your undercover mission, Spencer walked over to you and draped his FBI jacket over your shoulders, tugging it around you with a gentleness that completely juxtaposed what you had just witnessed.

“I’m sorry.” He’d said quietly, warranting a confused frown from you, that urged him to elaborate. “I’m sorry that you were treated in such an abhorrent way, and that you had to see me like that.”

Your frown melted into an adoring smile. “Spencer, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. Thank you for defending me from a man that I doubt realizes he even did anything wrong. While he might be the scum of the earth, you-” You gently poked his chest through his shirt, “-are a gentleman.”

Spencer had thought then that his heart couldn’t possibly soar higher than that, but oh, how wrong he had been.

Coincidentally, one of Spencer’s favorite memories of you is one you can recall very little of. It was the only occasion Spencer had politely declined the team’s invitation to a local bar for drinks in an evening. He had been rereading the copy of Frankenstein you’d bought him, comfortably nestled on his couch with a lingering smile as he sought pieces of you in between the lines of text, when his phone rang.

Seeing your name, Spencer picked up in a microsecond.

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright?” His mind was immediately reeling. Had something happened? Were you safe?

A sniffle came through the phone, and his heart shattered.

“Jus’ so lonely.” Your voice was slurred by the alcohol you’d consumed, but in the sweetest way. Your words did little to ease the anxiety swirling in Spencer’s mind, because every time he had seen you drink, you had been the giggliest mess he’d ever known; you had never been the stereotypical sad-drunk, as far as he knew.

“Lonely? Aren’t you at the bar with the team?” He questioned, because he could hear other voices in the background of the call and alarm bells were ringing. Had the rest of the team left? Or, worse, had you drunkenly wandered off somewhere and gotten lost? He was already putting his shoes on and grabbing a jacket.

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” There was an urgency and an aching sadness to your words, Spencer could hear it even through the distortion of a phone call, and your words stumped him. He blinked once, then twice, before replying.

“Well, no, they aren’t me.”

He felt that had been an obvious distinction, but perhaps you needed him to make that clear in your drunken state.

An equally dramatic and exasperated sigh came through the phone. “I know that, and that’s why I’m sad. I miss you!”

Spencer was out of his apartment door in record time, racing down the stairs until he reached the parking lot beneath his building.

“You miss me? Really?” He had asked you because he wanted to hear you say it again, he had to, the smile on his face growing exponentially.

“Lots.” Your voice broke on that one word, and it was enough for Spencer to risk several speeding tickets to reach you in a time he would never, ever tell you, because you’d lecture him about road safety. Perhaps someday he will tell you, just to hear you speak to him for a prolonged period of time, even if it’s a lecture at the expense of his reckless adoration.

By the time Spencer arrived at the bar, you were a blubbering mess in Rossi’s arms. It was only when you were transferred to Spencer’s arms that your drunk mind registered his presence, and the sheer joy on your face despite your tears was something he knew would be his only remaining memory if he lost everything else in some freak accident. Amidst your incoherent mumblings of compliments and praises towards Spencer - each and every one under lock and key in his heart ever since - he carried you back to his car and drove you home with your body wrapped almost entirely around his arm from where you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Once at your house, he carried you to the door bridal style, lowering you temporarily so that you could clumsily unlock your front door -not wanting to eradicate your independence entirely- before he picked you back up again and carried you inside, all the way to your bed. And there, he laid you down, slipped your shoes off, tucked you into bed, and wiped your face with your skincare products efficiently, from what you’d told him of your nightly routine. He fetched you a glass of water and sat you up to drink the whole thing, then refilled it and set it on your bedside table - in case you woke up thirsty in the night, or if you needed it first thing in the morning. Lying you back down, he left a little kiss on your forehead, and due to your eyes being closed, he assumed you were already falling asleep, until you reached for his hand when he tried to go.

“Stay.” You pleaded in a barely-conscious and far-from-sober tone.

Spencer smiled at you like you were the stars in the sky.

“Alright.” He almost whispered, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, while you laid under your covers, practically curled around where he sat.

With one of his hands on your shoulder, Spencer sat with you, spelling out words you’d never register on the back of your shoulder blade with his thumb and index finger.

So beautiful.

Everything.

To be yours.

And as his thumb curved the last letter “s” on the back of your hand, Spencer heard your breathing settle to a rate that told him you were dreaming. Very slowly, he tucked you under the bedcovers, stood himself up, and left, but not before leaving you with a message he intended for you to comprehend later. You had not consented to Spencer staying the night with you, and you were in no position to give that consent in your state, but you had asked him to stay, so he stayed until you wouldn’t know that he’d gone.

The next morning, you awoke to a small, handwritten note on your bedside table that read:

Good morning, angel. Please drink some water and let me know you survived drinking enough alcohol to fill the Hoover Dam (not literally, that’s not biologically possible).

-Spencer x

It was enough to make you laugh, and despite your immediate pounding headache, you reached for your phone.

You: hahaha, very funny. thank you so much for last night, I’m sorry for the mess ❤️

And, to your accustomed surprise, Spencer started typing back immediately.

Spencer: I’m glad that you survived to enjoy my joke. You are always welcome, and you have nothing to apologize for.

You went to set your phone down on your bedside table again, when it lit up with another text.

Spencer: ❤️

Surviving the alcohol you consumed was nothing compared to the way you had to fight for your life upon receiving that.

That morning, when you were called into the office for a case, you’d expected to be greeted with an onslaught of teasing from your coworkers, but Spencer had enough time before you arrived to plead with the rest of the team not to embarrass you. Surprisingly, they had agreed, but on one condition: Spencer had to do something about his workplace crush, because the rest of the team were losing their patience with the tension between you. To save you the embarrassment, Spencer sacrificed his own dignity in agreeing to that, and it’s been hanging over his head ever since.

The clouds beneath the jet serve as an interesting background to your thoughts, your headphones blocking out any and all sound beyond your music. You are away in your own little world, save for the part of your brain that is acutely aware of your elbow touching Spencer’s with the only barrier being your jacket and his. Does he spend as much time dwelling on these things? Does he ever wonder, like you do, that this connection between you could amount to something else, something more, if either of you were willing to take the risk? The risk is, in itself, a great one. While the risks surrounding any love in general are an obvious factor, in your shared field of work, that is exacerbated. Neither of you can explicitly trust that you would be able to act professionally if the other was harmed in any way, and you could bear witness to any degree of harm against the other while in the field. If that wasn’t enough, should it not work out, you would have no choice but to leave your dream job to work and live elsewhere, uprooting the life you’ve built here in its entirety; while Spencer would stay with the family he has worked with for so many years, the building would never feel the same to him without you in it. Whoever took your desk after you, he would be unable to withhold a small amount of resentment towards - he would never act on it, but he would feel it. And the guilt of being with him having caused you to have to restart your life somewhere else? That is a weight he is terrified of carrying. So many have faced worse fates as a result of getting close to Spencer, but when it comes to you, he cannot think of any worse than that, or his chest will start to hurt.

Perhaps this case is the perfect opportunity, he wonders to himself while a female cop converses with him, barely occupying even half of Spencer’s brain as he focuses on thoughts of you.

“I think it’s great you guys have come down here to help us!” The local cop grins up at Spencer.

A case in Vegas, where he could use some time once the case is closed to show you some of his favorite places. You’d like that, he thinks.

“Thank you, we’re always happy to help when requested.” Spencer answers casually.

But from the little office you’re working in, you can see the way that local cop is ogling at Spencer, and you feel a twinge of jealousy. It was only a few minutes ago you were looking at the hazel in his eyes up close in the same way she currently is, but you like to think you’re a little less obvious than that. You are not.

“Some of these guys, you can tell they don’t know what they’re doing, but you definitely do, don’t you? I’ve heard the rest of your team calling you a genius!” The local cop babbles to Spencer, eyes like an animal in heat.

Perhaps a tour of the casino’s? But a certain card-counting ability resulting in a certain state-wide ban would make that somewhat difficult. That probably wouldn’t be a very good date. Would it be a date? Spencer wonders, before he shrugs, feeling a little awkward.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified given its diversity in both person and circumstance, but I appreciate your faith in the BAU, who I’d better get back to. Thanks.” With that, he steps away from the officer, thinking nothing of the conversation given that his focus had been elsewhere for the duration of it.

You, however, cannot let it go. To your detriment, you assume a seasoned profiler like Spencer can read flirtatious intent a mile off (his unreliable grasp on social cues begs to differ) and from a distance, it didn’t look to you that he outright rejected the advances of another woman (his unreliable grasp on social cues left him unaware there were even advances to reject), and that left you feeling…upset. You had thought your relationship with Spencer to be special, that he didn’t reject the warm, sweet tension between the two of you because he liked you, specifically, but if he didn’t reject the flirtations of another woman, are you just a more regular occurrence of what she offered him?

Little do you know, if Spencer heard your thoughts suggest he only merely “liked” you, he may very well go into cardiac arrest under the pressure of the weight to correct you, adamantly. There is not a string of words in his vocabulary to adequately describe what he feels for you, and to imply “like” conveys them is salt in the wound you cause in his heart for each minute you’re not his.

Naturally, for the rest of the day you are accompanied by a cloud hanging over your head to consistently remind you of that very same fact - that you are not Spencer’s. It is hardly surprising you do everything in your power to avoid him, offering to assist every member of the team with whatever task they’re doing to take you out of his reach and prevent him from talking to you. Of course, you know he’ll notice, and you’ll apologize when you’ve recovered enough to not cry at the thought of him, but for tonight are destined to bury yourself in hotel bedcovers that you partially hope suffocate you into unconsciousness to save you further torment.

Most unfortunately for you, only an hour into your tears, there is a soft knock at your hotel room door. By now, you are beyond the point of being able to hide the extent to which you have already cried, so you formulate a number of excuses pertaining to allergies or hormones on your way to the door. All of those lies evaporate on opening your door to find Spencer standing there, looking down at you with pleading eyes that quite frankly make you want to launch yourself from your hotel room window.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, (Y/N), I just came by to-“ His eyes widen. “You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question; Spencer knows you well enough to not need to doubt himself when he reads your physical tells.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Did you need something?” You brush off his concern, hoping to distract him with whatever his original reason for coming here was - it wouldn’t be the first time Spencer materialized in your presence to ask your opinion of something obscure or a social situation he was uncertain of because he felt comfortable enough to come to you about it, you just wanted to get this over with so that you could return to your crying pit.

“I- what? Don’t worry about it? You’ve been crying, of course I’ll worry about that! Extensively!” Spencer exclaims, his voice rising in pitch slightly with his distress, before he clears his throat. “I came by to check on you because your behavior today confused me, and it appears I was right to be concerned.” Seeing the apprehension on your face, Spencer is quick to amend the question he was going to ask. “If you’d prefer not to talk about it, I understand and won’t pressure you, but please don’t force yourself to suffer alone if you can help it. There’s nothing I’d rather listen to than you.”

The sincerity in Spencer’s words brings fresh tears to your eyes, and it’s physically painful to look away from him and stare at the doorframe.

“It’s nothing, Spencer, just getting in my head about things that-“ You begin, and in a moment that is completely unlike his usually overly-polite self, he interrupts you.

“Is it something I did?” He asks, his eyes widening with the same plea as before.

Spencer’s question surprises you so much that you hesitate to answer him, only for a second before your lips part again, but your delay is enough of an answer to him.

“(Y/N), please tell me what I did so that I can fix this. I don’t understand- I’ve already gone over our every interaction over the past 48 hours, 30 times each, and I’m not smart enough to have been unable to determine a conclusion on my own. Please tell me.” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse with the weight of having hurt your feelings without ever intending to.

Knowing he isn’t going to forgive himself without an explanation and that he’ll see through any lie you give him now, you are left without a choice.

“That cop you spoke to today, was she flirting with you?” The words fall from your lips freely, and Spencer blinks.

Once, twice, then a third time.

“Which…female officer? In the past 8 hours I have spoken to three.” He asks so carefully, like he’s walking on a rooftop made entirely of eggshells.

You have to resist rolling your eyes, because you know Spencer isn’t being clueless on purpose, but it doesn’t ease your pain.

“Just after midday, the one who was looking up at you like you were the best thing she’d seen all day.” Now, you can’t resist rolling your eyes; an involuntary reaction that makes Spencer frown in confusion.

“The conversation consisted of her thanking us for assisting them with the case and enquiring as to whether I’m a genius- to which I said I don’t think intelligence can be accurately quantified, and that was it.” Spencer has never been more confused in his entire life. He feels there is something obvious staring him right in his face and he is mortified at being completely blind to it, but he is treading very carefully over this invisible minefield.

“She was flirting with you, Spencer, didn’t you see the way she was looking at you?” Trying to read his expression and only finding confusion is not helping.

“I wasn’t really looking at her.” Spencer answers truthfully, because his eyes had been glazed over as he thought of places he could show you while in Vegas; where posed the highest probability of a successful date, should you accept the offer he had every intention of presenting you with.

“You didn’t notice…” You murmur, your heart sinking in your chest.

You had been upset that Spencer hadn’t rejected the advances of another woman under the presumption he understood her advances, but if he truly did not when she was being so obvious, he most likely doesn’t notice yours, either. He hasn’t been reciprocating the energy you thought was between you for that reason, he’s just been continuing the conversation without a clue. A lump forms in your thought.

Meanwhile, Spencer is even more confused.

“I’m not certain I understand what the issue is. Was it the flirting? Or the fact I didn’t register it? Should I have?” He is lost and in desperate need of guidance. As soon as he knows what he’s done to upset you, he’ll beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but at this time he is still unable to determine the problem. If you had not realized he didn’t acknowledge the flirting until now, that couldn’t be the issue, but if the issue was simply that he’d been flirted with, you now knowing he wasn’t aware of it would have fixed that - so why do you look more upset? This just in: Doctor Spencer Reid loathes social cues.

“Do you notice when anyone flirts with you?” Answering his question with your own question is only sending him further into a spiral.

You are the only person he ever wishes would flirt with him, but Spencer is absolutely convinced you never would. If he answers “no” to your rephrased version of the same question you had just asked him, that appears to be the answer you are assuming to be true which is making you look sadder. He does not understand this at all.

“How do I answer that in a way that won’t upset you further…” Spencer frowns, focussing very hard on your every micro-expression, trying to use your face as a cheat sheet.

“I don’t think you can, Spencer. Thanks for coming to check on me. Goodnight.” You give him a weak smile and go to close your hotel room door, but Spencer places a palm against the door with an expression of alarm.

“Please-“ He starts, then stops himself when you meet his eyes, his tone softening. “Talk to me.”

You take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet. What do you have to lose? Your heart’s already been hit with every weapon of mass destruction you can think of.

“I thought- I thought you knew there was- it wasn’t flirting, but there’s been something between us that I thought you knew as well as I did. Stupidly, I thought you were reciprocating it, but if you couldn’t tell that cop was flirting with you, there’s no way you knew…” Your weak smile wavers. “Like I said, just getting in my head over things. Doesn’t matter. You haven’t done anything wrong. Night-“

Once again unexpectedly, Spencer interrupts you, but this time for a very different reason.

“I need to sit down.”

It’s only then you realize how suddenly pale he’s become. Paler than you’ve ever seen him, in fact. Your eyes widen, and you grab Spencer’s forearms, guiding him into your hotel room and over to the armchair in the corner of the room, the door clicking shut behind you while Spencer stumbles with the most shell shocked look in his eyes.

“Spencer, what’s going on? Are you alright?” You ask him worriedly.

“Indeterminable.” Spencer answers in a distant voice.

“Okay, okay, uh-“ You flit from him to the sink in your hotel room to grab Spencer a glass of water, that you’re quick to bring to him. “Here.”

His eyes don’t even focus on you or the glass, but he takes it from your hand and gulps it down. Spencer makes the mistake of glancing at you mid-sip, and starts choking, resulting in you patting his back.

“Something between us…” He coughs out. “You said, something between us. What.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and your face feels hot.

“You know, mutual pining. Like in movies.” You feel very awkward having to explain that.

“Books, first.” Spencer corrects you quietly, his breathing finally steadying.

“Yeah, okay, books first.” You can’t help chuckling lightly and taking the empty glass back over to the sink, then returning to Spencer, but stopping in your tracks when you find him now standing instead of sitting in the armchair.

“A study has shown that on average it takes men 88 days to fall in love, while it takes women 134 days. Contrary to what most believe of me, I don’t believe every aspect of love can be reduced to facts and statistics, but in moments of self-doubt I fall back on what I know. I knew what I knew of how I felt about you on the day we met, but I waited 88 days to be certain, and then it was only logical I waited 134 days to give you the chance to develop even the vaguest pleasant feeling towards me.” He takes a breath. “It has only been 120 days; I had not yet decided how I was going to broach this topic with you, and the question remains as to whether I’ve waited long enough for you to be as certain as I am. If the answer is anything other than yes, I promise, I’ll wait as many days as it takes, even if it’s a number I can’t reach.” Spencer’s voice is that of a man swearing an oath he has no doubt he’ll live to honor in every sense, and you are certain your heart has stopped beating.

You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling like time has frozen around you, the only sounds being your breathing to fill the suffocating silence of your hotel room. A microexpression of terror flickers across Spencer’s face, and you are brought back to yourself in an instant.

“I wish you’d asked me 120 days ago.” You say breathlessly.

“I didn’t ask anything.” Yet, Spencer adds internally, his heart pounding.

“But you’re going to.” You clarify softly, and Spencer nods, so you nod back at him.

“Would…” Spencer clears his throat. “Would you allow me the honor of taking you on a date? With me? Together? Here? Or anywhere- anywhere we can realistically travel to, that is-“ As he rambles and gets ahead of himself, your expression of shock evolves into a smile, and it’s your turn to interrupt him.

“Yes. Anywhere, anytime. Yes.” You answer.

There’s a beat of silence as Spencer catches his breath.

“Now?” He dares to whisper, and you’re grinning, glancing between him, and the provisions of a TV, bed and phone that this hotel room provides.

“Would you be opposed to a first date of takeout and shitty hotel room cable?” You offer playfully.

A bashful smile curls at the corner of Spencer’s mouth as he smiles back at you.

“Anything with you.” He says, but is quick to amend his own words. “Provided it’s an entirely safe scenario, obviously.”

That makes you snicker. “Obviously.”

Spencer looks between you and the bed, nervous of how to proceed. You make the first move, taking a step towards the bed, and Spencer offers you his hand - somewhat needlessly, but if he ever misses an instant in which he can deliver a gentlemanly action upon you, he would suggest that’s the instant you shoot him dead - to assist you onto the mattress before he follows suit and sits down beside you, kicking off his shoes.

“I’m completely underdressed for our first date, sorry.” You joke, looking between your pajamas and Spencer’s suit.

“You’re beautiful.” Is all he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it as he gazes down at you with the most gentle smile.

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers, and Spencer doesn’t hesitate to lift them to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles tenderly.

“Takeout?” He murmurs against your skin, and for a second you’re lost to the daze of his kisses that you wonder if he’s asking whether the act of them has taken you out (to which you’d answer with a resounding yes), but remembering the nature of your date, you nod wordlessly.

Spencer smirks against your knuckles.

“I meant, what kind of takeout?” He amends, and your face feels hot again.

“Anything at all.” Is all you can think to respond, because to be completely honest, you do not care what you eat tonight.

Spencer chuckles quietly at that, keeping his hand holding yours while his other hand reaches for the hotel room phone, to dial for reception and request their recommendations for the best local takeout places.

“What’s so funny?” You ask him, but you’re smiling regardless of not yet knowing, just seeing him laugh while his thumb caresses your knuckles.

“I was just thinking, ‘Anything at all’ is exactly what I’ve thought every time I’ve looked at you.” Spencer muses as he brings the phone to his ear.

Anything at all to make you smile again, anything at all from you, if you asked he’d do or be anything at all for you.

And much like the last time, you don’t even realize he’s spelling out words against your skin with the caress of his thumb. This time, though, it’s just one phrase, repeated.

To be yours.

To be yours.

To be yours.

[minswriting]

how would the cm characters be like during soft lovey sex? like it’s very domestic and intimate, not rough and filthy yk?

nsfw | mdni | only wrote for male characters i currently take requests for because that was easiest lol

aaron - aaron during soft sex is all about maintaining eye contact as he thrusts into you, pressing his forehead against yours while one hand is holding himself up and the other is intertwined with yours. he’d murmur praises and talk about how much he loves you.

spencer - spencer, during soft sex, would take his time to absolutely worship you. he’d kiss all over your body, eat you out slowly and intricately, and when he’s finally inside of you, he wouldn’t be able to help the small smile on his lips and the occasional giggles you guys exchange as you speak to one another so softly. his movements would be slow but pleasurable for the both of you.

derek - derek is 100% a tease regardless of the sex you guys are having. so he’d be holding you close, perhaps you’re on top for once while he’s gently thrusting up into you. and he’d totally just go “you like that, mamas?” with a soft smirk on his lips as he looks at the way you’re coming apart from his cock.

luke - soft giggly sex with luke? please sign me the fuck up. the two of you are taking things slow while he’s thrusting into you lazily with his fingers intertwined with yours. the two of you would be talking about how good you both feel and how much you love one another. and luke wouldn’t be able to help cracking a few jokes here and there, causing you both to giggle before kissing one another.