#watch out mgg
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ddejavvu · 1 month ago
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Helloo!! Sooo I have a picture of mgg as my lock screen but his face isn’t in the picture and I was wonderinggg if you could write about the girls at the bau seeing your background of your phone and it’s some guy but they don’t know it’s spencer and they ask all these questions about this mysterious secret boyfriend you have and asking to meet him and r is just like maybeeee idk knowing that they have in fact met him and maybe spencer is near by and hearing all this and is just all shy and flustered. If you do write this THANK YOUUU you’re writing it phenomenal, one of a kind, it’s so good!!! <333
"Woah, hubba hubba," JJ's eyes bug out at your phone screen, and Emily, forever on JJ's wavelength, snatches it out of your hands before you can properly dim the screen.
"Who is that?" Emily asks everyone's burning question, and one of Penelope's hands squeezes yours, with nails, to emphasize her urgency.
Your lock screen is a picture of Spencer's bare chest clad only in a blazer, the front open in a lewd V that showcases the dark pink kiss marks you'd spread across the smattering of wiry curls he's grown. It's not something you'd meant to flash your coworkers with, and Spencer chokes on his water while Derek hoots and hollers at it.
"There are some things that should be kept private," Rossi drawls, eyes wide and haunted as he stands, "I'm going to get Aaron and myself another refill, just in case any worse pictures get shown around the table."
Hotch laughs at the older man, amusement lining his features handsomely as the group continues to tease you.
"So, when are you bringing this guy around? Not that we'd recognize him anyways, unless he showed up shirtless with lipstick all over him."
"Derek, you-" You barely stop yourself from saying, 'you have met him', instead swerving into an easy insult, "You're the last person I want to introduce him to. You'll never let us live this down."
"None of us will." Prentiss promises, her grin wolfish, "You'll be lucky if Garcia doesn't manage to track him down using nipple-recognition software."
Your technical analyst cackles into her drink, and Spencer makes a hasty getaway.
"I need the bathroom," He paws with burning cheeks at Derek's leg, ushering the man out of his way so that he can speed-walk to the bathroom. You watch him go, hearing Hotch let out a rare laugh at his urgency.
"Poor Spence," JJ croons, "Did you see how red his face was?"
"That kid's almost thirty and I bet he can't even say the word 'sex' without blushing." Derek scoffs.
"He can't. I've seen it." Garcia confirms, "It's pathetic."
"Pathetic," You snort, but what your team hears as agreement, you mean as contradiction. Spencer was nothing close to pathetic that night- sweet and tender, yes, but pathetic, no. He'd cupped your face while you'd spread a smattering of sticky kisses across his chest, and he'd stared into your eyes when you'd taken the picture, a smile on his face even though he'd known his grin wouldn't be in frame.
"Well get all of it out now," Hotch advises, a teasing tone in his voice, "Spencer won't come back if we're still talking about it."
"I'm happy for you." Dave states, setting his and Aaron's drinks down, "But so help me, Y/N, if I ever see your boyfriend's naked torso again, I'll kill myself."
You refrain from telling Rossi he had just seen your boyfriend's bare torso, last week when Spencer had needed to be stripped of his cold, wet clothes, and thrust into a heated blanket for warmth. No one had batted an eye at his brief nudity, and neither had you, because you'd memorized every inch of his skin. You didn't need to ogle him; you could recall his body from memory.
"I'll keep that in mind." You nod at Rossi sagely, "Just don't go through the rest of my camera roll." You see Spencer exit the bathroom, peering cautiously at your table to see if he can predict the conversation before returning, "Or you'll find a lot worse than his chest."
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bohemianblasphemy · 1 month ago
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MGG prompt. 🥺 Reid’s favorite holiday is Halloween and he’s disappointed when his plans fall through for the evening so you invite him to hand out candy at your house, and once he arrives he’s very into your Halloween costume, and you end up not passing out any candy. 😉😉
I love me some Spencer Reid 🥺✨ spooky smut coming your way!!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Contains: Unprotected sex, Spencer fucking you in your costume, Reader receiving oral, fishnet ripping… fun stuff!
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“What do you mean you’re not doing Halloween this year?” You were shocked, leaning over Spencer’s desk as he was sitting in his chair.
“My plans fell through… so it’s just sit in my apartment and watch some horror movies that night.” Spencer shrugged, but you could see the disappointment behind his expression. He LOVED Halloween- come October and it was the only thing he’d talk about. You hated seeing him sad, especially during his favourite time of the year.
“Hey, I have an idea.” You said, the cogs in your head turning.
“Come over to mine… we can dress up and hand out candy, watch some scary movies. I don’t want you to be alone…” you said softly, hoping that he would take you up on your offer.
Spencer’s eyes had a spark of excitement from your offer- not only because of Halloween but also because he could spend time with you.
“Y-yeah! I’d like that a lot…” he gave you that goofy smile he always gave when he was excited, making your heart flutter at the sight.
“Great! I’ll um… text you the address, you gotta wear a costume though… or you’re not being let in.” You teased, making him fidget in his seat.
“Oh I will be, don’t you worry.”
- - -
The few days to Halloween rolled by as Spencer and yourself had finalised your plans for that night.
You stood at your bathroom mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup - the pink and blue eyeshadow blended to perfection, bringing your elvira costume together with the tall wig and long black dress that showed off your curves perfectly.
The timing was impeccable as you heard the doorbell buzzing, your favourite boy genius had arrived on time. You eagerly made your way towards the door, opening it to see Spencer… in normal clothing.
“Spencer I told you to dress up!” You said to him, a bit of disappointment in your voice. “What do you mean? I am dressed up…” Spencer smoothed over his shirt.
“I’m an existentialist.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you couldn’t help but laugh. He was such a dork, but you couldn’t help but admire him for it.
“Besides, it looks like you’re the star of our Halloween night…” Spencer smiled softly, his eyes running over you as he admired your costume.
The soft blush on your cheeks was undeniable, smiling sweetly at him. “Thanks Spence… come in.” You pulled the door open wider, watching him walk inside and take in the surroundings of your home.
He saw the giant bowl of candy, meant for any trick or treaters who were to pass by the house but couldn’t help but take a piece for himself.
“Got a lot to choose from…” he smiled as he unwrapped the piece of candy, putting it in his mouth and chewing slowly.
Smiling at him, you nodded. “Whoever comes to the door is gonna have a hard time choosing…”
There was undoubtedly tension between you both, you had no problems speaking when you were at work together but now? The air was just full of unspoken feelings and longing…
“Uhm… i have some movies that we can watch, if you’re wanting to watch something…” you turned around, trying to break the silence that surrounded you both.
“I have Halloween, The Lost Boys, Scream, The Thing- take your pick.” You handed him the DVDS that you had in your hand, he takes them and momentarily grazes his fingers on yours, making the flush on your cheeks burn brighter as you watch him go through the selection of movies.
“The Lost Boys first?” He grinned, seeing the smile on your face.
“My favourite… yes let’s do it.”
The doorbell rang, hearing a muffled “trick or treat!” From behind the wood.
“I’ll get the door… you pop the movie in yeah?” You looked to him as you grabbed the candy bowl.
“Yeah of course.” He looked as you turned around, admiring the way that you looked in your costume as you answered the door to the trick or treaters.
In that time you took handing out candy and closed the door, Spencer had taken a seat on your couch ready to watch the movie, waiting for you to come sit beside him.
Upon your return, Spencer smiled up at you as you sat down. Ready to watch as he pressed play.
The movie plays, the title card with the aerial shot of the carnival in Santa Carla is in view and you focus on the screen- Spencer, trying to get avert his eyes to the screen was looking at you, he couldn’t get over how you looked in that outfit…
He felt bad for not watching the movie, but he enjoyed watching you. He could see the excitement in your eyes as the vampires on their bikes driving off through the sandy dunes and smiled softly at your reactions.
You could feel his eyes on you, knowing that he wasn’t paying attention- but you couldn’t help but love that he was watching you instead of the movie.
You turned to face him, A dash of confidence building up inside you.
“Spence?” You whispered, locking eye contact with him.
Spencer’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard.
“I-I um…” he stuttered, not being able to look you in the eye. His nervousness settling in as he looked toward his lap.
Using your index finger you pulled his chin up, making him look at you.
“Do you like what you see Spence?” You whisper, your sweet tone sending a shiver down his spine.
Of course he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in your costume.
“Yes…” he whispered, watching you move closer toward him. The gap between you both was agonisingly thin, his pupils blown with desire for you.
Leaning in further, you could feel his shallow, shaky breaths on your lips- feeling his needy desire for you buzzing off of him.
“Do you want this? Do you want me?” You said quietly, smiling at the hitch in his throat.
“Yes… god yes.” He whined, there was nothing in that moment that he wanted more than to have you… to take you.
Taking that opportunity, you moved forward and captured his lips with yours, tasting the lingering candy on his tongue.
Spencer couldn’t help the soft moan that came from within him as you kissed, his slender fingers coming up to your cheek but pausing within an inch of you.
“Can I touch you?” He asked, watching as you nodded. He pulled you into him, his other arm snaking around you and holding you closer as he kissed you once more.
Your hands reached his chest, slowly unbutton his shirt and splaying it open to reveal his torso.
“Pretty boy…” you praised him as you pulled away from his kiss; watching his chest rise and fall shakily at your touch as your fingers ghosted along his warm skin toward the button of his pants, a tent evidently filled the space in front of his zipper.
“W-wait-“ he panted, gently taking your wrist. Leaning forward he encapsulated your lips again. “I-I need to taste you, please.” Spencer’s voice was yearning.
“Hmm…” you replied, a smirk appearing on your lips. “I think that can be arranged.” Spencer watched as you stood up, extending your hand to him.
Taking your hand, he followed you down the hallway to your room. Closing the door behind you Spencer took your waist, walking you backwards to the edge of the bed and lay you down- splayed out for him as your split of your black dress bared your fishnet clad legs.
Spencer looked down at you, in awe of how beautiful he thought you looked in your outfit as he sat down on his knees by the edge of the bed.
His long fingers traced along your thighs, feeling the flimsy material of the tights. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, hands tracing further up your legs to your pelvis.
With a shaky breath, he traced lightly along the front of you- your body quivering for more.
“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you for permission. After seeing you nod, he didn’t hesitate to dig his fingers in the tights, ripping them open to reveal what lay beneath them making you gasp.
“Spence those were my good ones…” you giggled softly. “I’ll buy you another- fuck I’ll buy you 10 pairs… they look so good.” He praised you, moving closer to where you wanted him most.
So beautiful.” Spencer was in awe as he played with the elastic of your underwear and pulling it to the side, admiring your glistening cunt.
Placing a few kisses to your thighs, he traces his lips up to your pussy- flattening his tongue against you before bringing the tip of it to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub.
The taste of you was going to be the death of him, moaning at how good it felt- something he could never get enough of.
“Spence….” You breathed out, your hands reaching for his brown hair and pulling at them- eliciting a sudden moan from him as he continued his assault with his tongue.
Your noises filled the room, each going an octave higher as he you reached your peak, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you came hard on his lips and tongue.
Spencer looked up at you, his lips wet with your desire and his eyes filled with want.
Your eyes followed him as he stood up. Starting to fiddle with the button of his pants and letting them fall to the ground at his feet, leaving him in his briefs.
All you could do was stare- your eyes raking over his form, seeing the tent that had formed under his briefs.
He watched your eyes and smirked slightly as he toyed with the elastic, hooking his thumbs under the material and pulling them down setting himself free.
Him standing bare before you was a sight for sore eyes. “God Spencer…” you whispered, admiring him as you went to take off your costume- but he objected.
“Leave it on… please.” He pleaded. “I wanna take you like this…” he said shyly as he took a step over to you and crawled on top the sheets, hovering over you.
He looked over you, seeing you eye him from below in awe- the yearning to feel you overwhelming as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with his tip.
“C-can I?” He whispered, his face coming down a few inches from you as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes Spencer, please…”
Slowly and steadily, he started to move himself inside you- a gasp falling from his lips he moved his hips, listening and watching as your mouth fell open; the most heavenly sound that has ever hit his ears falling from your lips- calling his name and your fingers digging into his shoulders.
His thrusts became faster, more desperate. The eagerness to please you, to feel you- to make you cum the only goal on his mind.
“I-is this good? Please tell me it feels good-“ he was panting, desperate to hear you praise him. “Sp-Spence you feel so good- so good f’me…” you couldn’t help the shuddering words that came out, ecstasy building up in your core.
A small whimper rolled out of Spencer at your praise, whining as he continued rolling his hips into yours. The pressure of his orgasm was building up inside him quickly.
“I-I’m not gonna last.” He whispered, another whine following his words.
“Let go Spencer, please…”
Spencer’s thrusts became more erratic as he watched you fall over the edge- calling out his name as you came hard around him, clenching yourself around his cock.
His breathing became jagged as he felt himself twitch inside you, his orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave as his cum coated your walls.
“God you’re- you’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he watched as you glanced up at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips that had messy red lipstick all over them, basking in the after glow. His hair stuck to his temples, making you giggle as you unstuck it from his head. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that, wanted you…” you smiled, touching his cheek gently as though he was made of glass.
Spencer leaned into your touch, his pupils blown with admiration. “Me too…”
There was a silence between you both, before he piped up once more.
“Definitely the best Halloween I’ve had.” He smiled at his own sentence, making you giggle as he lay down beside you- giving soft touches as he held you close- content with being there in that moment with you.
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godsfavdarling · 3 months ago
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watching him
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part of him (one-shot series), my masterlist
pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader summary: You help Spencer wash his curls properly. words: 1,2k warnings: most self indulgent fluff you have ever read, nudity/bathing together, maybe a bit suggestive but still sfw, no y/n a/n: I was in the shower and famously I have the same hair type and color as mgg and we would absolutely share our routine.
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Spencer's head tilted toward you, giving you better access to his tangled brown strands. 
Your fingers, maybe a bit too roughly, moved through his scalp, detangling with a kind of focused care you hadn’t realized you were capable of.
You sat facing each other in the cramped bathroom, your legs tucked on either side of his while his stretched out around you, creating a tight but strangely comfortable space between you.
You couldn't help but watch him intently. 
With his eyes closed, unaware of your gaze, he looked almost ethereal—peaceful in a way you rarely got to see. 
His wet curls framed his face, softening his features, and the dim light of the bathroom made him look even more serene. 
There was something mesmerizing about watching him like this, when he couldn't catch you staring, when he couldn't see the way you studied every detail.
He looked so pretty, so effortlessly beautiful, that you let yourself indulge, longer than you should, in the quiet act of watching him.
“This smells nice,” he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut to shield them from your movements and the severe foam you created. His voice was soft, almost drowsy. 
He didn’t say anything more, but you caught the faintest hint of pleasure in his tone. 
Maybe he enjoyed this. Maybe he liked having his hair tugged. You made a mental note of that.
“I don’t really like this one much,” you admitted, scrunching your nose at the scent as you continued working the product through his hair.
“Really?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. His eyes remained closed, but the slight upward tilt of his head suggested curiosity.
“Yeah. It’s too intense. I liked it at first, but now it’s overwhelming.”
“I still like it. It smells like you,” he replied, his voice low and steady.
Not water related heat rushed through your body. 
You suddenly became hyper-aware of how close you were. 
You resumed your careful work on his curls, trying to focus, but it wasn’t easy.
You never thought you’d enjoy this so much. You hated washing your own hair, but washing his? It felt like a sweet dessert, a perfect indulgence after the cozy dinner you’d shared on the couch.
Your thighs kept brushing against his in the tight confines of the tub, sending a slow, torturous fever through your veins.
As if that weren’t enough, his hands found your knees at some point, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. 
He wasn’t making your task any easier.
You fought to keep your breath steady, your heart from racing out of control. You tried to play it cool, as if having him this close, this intimate, wasn’t driving you to the edge.
Is this what it felt like? 
Is this how you know the bond with him is real? Maybe it wasn't an accident after all. 
You've felt like you dreamed Spencer into existence, like he stepped out of the picture you'd been painting in your mind since childhood. 
You felt like you dreamed him up .
And one day, there he was—alive, right in front of you, as if he'd always been meant to be.
And now you were squeezed together in your tiny bathtub on a Friday night, showing him how to take care of his curls. 
“Okay, I’m going to rinse out the shampoo now. Don’t open your eyes,” you warned.
“They’re still closed,” he assured, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.
You carefully worked the water through his hair, rinsing away the foam while your fingers combed through his curls. You realized you might’ve been a little rougher than necessary. You gently squeezed the excess water from his hair.
“You have to get rid of the water like this,” you explained, gathering his hair and squeezing it upward in small sections. “Don’t straighten it out, just squeeze it up. Does that make sense?”
“I get it,” he said, his voice laced with quiet trust.
“You could do more complicated stuff, but your hair’s pretty gentle, so I think just shampoo and conditioner for curly hair will do the trick. Just... don’t brush it when it’s dry, okay?”
“Okay,” he repeated, nodding slightly.
“You only brush it when it’s really, really wet. Now for the conditioner.” You took the bottle and squeezed out what you deemed the right amount, showing it to him. “This should be enough.”
He nodded again, his head still hanging, eyes shut as the water ran over him. You carefully worked the conditioner into his hair. 
“You can brush through it if you need to, but don’t put any on your scalp. This one doesn’t need time to soak in, so we can rinse it right away.”
You gently massaged the conditioner through his curls before turning on the water again, running your fingers through his hair to ensure all the product was rinsed out.
You turned the water off and squeezed the excess water from his hair one last time.
Gently, you lifted his head, tugging it upward, and carefully pushed his damp curls away from his pretty face. 
As you brushed the hair from his forehead, his eyes blinked open, still sensitive to the bright bathroom light. 
His lashes were damp, and he rubbed at his eyes, finally releasing his hold on your knees. 
For a moment, you both just looked at each other.
There you were.
Both naked.
Taking care of each other.
What kind of dream was this?
Before you got to dwell on your life more Spencer broke the silence. 
“Now, my turn,” he said, his voice still soft but now filled with a teasing certainty.
You blinked, surprised. “What?”
“I’m going to wash your hair,” he clarified, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
There was even more warmth in his eyes than usual and a quiet determination you weren’t sure you could say no to.
“Spence, you don’t have to—”
“I know,” he said, already shifting in the tub to give himself a bit more space, motioning for you to turn around. “But I want to.”
You hesitated for a moment, the idea of letting him touch you in such a way—this close, this tender—sending a flutter of nervous excitement through your chest. 
“Okay,” you murmured as you turned around. 
You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle facing him now that his eyes were open.
You couldn’t take the way he looked at you. It felt too soft and too loving sometimes.
What did you do to deserve this? To deserve him?
For the sake of your own sanity, you shifted your focus to counting the tiles, letting the numbers steady your racing thoughts of him.
So close. So visible in the bathroom lighting.
His hands found their way to your shoulders first, steady and reassuring, before sliding up to your head. 
His fingers, surprisingly deft, massaged your scalp with slow, deliberate movements, while his other hand held the showerhead, gently wetting your hair. 
You hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel, how effortlessly the tension in your body would melt away under his careful touch.
“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured, his voice close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
You closed your eyes, surrendering to him. Letting him watch you.
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reidmania · 3 months ago
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use somebody 2 | spencer reid
part one here
summary; spencer dreaded the day he would see you with anything other than a frown on your face, when that day comes, spencer would do anything to bring your sweet smile back.
warnings; some mean police man being sexist and mean to fem reader, protective spencer, fluff, a little angst but like barley any, will there be a love confession??? read and find out!
an; idk im dying. thank u. mgg hand mention
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Spencer wasn’t the biggest fan of the jet before you joined the bau. He didn’t have any particular issue with it, there was nothing he could really fault or use as an explanation as to why he wasn’t a big fan of it but it was just boring, he would read and then reread books, then try and sleep.
Then you joined the team and suddenly the jet was one of his favourite places, because you would sit next to him. You would ramble about a new show you were watching or a flower you had seen on the side of the road, and lately you would tell him about your dog. He would get to listen to you talk and get to watch you smile and flap your arms around as you got increasingly more excited as your ramble went on.
On the way home if you were feeling too tired to excitedly ramble about something random you would just sit next to him and let him ramble, the same excited smile on your face nonetheless as you paid the at most attention to whatever it was he was talking about, listening intently and asking questions almost as if you just wanted to keep him talking.
He didn’t mind.
Your plans to watch the documentary he recommended at your house were quickly ruined by the notice that you had a case that would take over the span of your weekend.You had apologised profusely to Spencer as if he didn’t technically cancel on you just as much as you did him. He didn’t mind, he got to spend time with you either way.
In a sort of twisted way, he preferred working a case with you. At least this way you were around him rather than spending your weekends around anyone else. He wondered if that was creepy and controlling and if he said it aloud it would probably end in him over explaining how he just hated the idea of anything happening to you, or you meeting someone else.
You were too kind, for anyone. Especially him.
Thats why he was immensely annoyed when the Police Sheriff of the station they were at in Louisiana, decided to nit-pick every little thing you did. He wondered if the Sheriff was just insanely insecure or if maybe it was a gender issue.
He settled on the latter when the comments ended up going towards Emily, and JJ as well. Just a little bit more towards you, maybe because regardless you continue smiling at him or muttering out soft apologies for whatever minor thing you had done that the policeman had an issue with.
There were many times Spencer wanted to speak up, or shove the old mans faced into a wall — but then you’d smile sweetly at Spencer and he remembered you were a grown woman, you were perfectly capable of taking care and defending yourself. Regardless of this information, Spencer stayed a little closer to you throughout the day.
“Alright, giggle guts, whatcha got for me?” Penelope said over the phone after she had heard your mumble out a cheery hello once it went through. Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, mostly because he saw your smile widen and a string of laughter leaving your lips, the sound melodic in his ears.
The sound of your laughter only made a small laugh puff out Spencer’s lips because it was so sweet and so beautiful that it was contagious and he couldn’t help it.
“Well, you gorgeous amazing girl. I need you to look up this guy’s medical history, please” the manner was added so sweetly and softly on the end. The compliments left your lips effortlessly, the sound of your voice and the evident smile in it made Spencer’s heart happy.
Penelope said something over the phone but it was inaudible over the sound of Sheriff standing in the corner of the room scoffing. Your eyes flickered upwards towards the sound, eyebrows pinching together in slightly confusion. Everyone’s expression mirroring your own.
Spencer felt dread fill his stomach and over every goosebump on his skin, dread to fear whatever spiteful unnecessary criticism the man would have to offer. The criticism absolutely no one asked for.
“Whats the issue?” Hotch spoke up, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down the sheriff. Was it in a protective manner? Nobody was sure really, the elder’s expression remaining unreadable.
The sheriff kicked off the wall to stand a little stranger, looking at hotch than back to you. “Unprofessional. This is why this is a man’s job. Sensitive squishy women who think life is all sunshine and rainbow are not fit for a job like this.”
Everyone went silent, your lips parted before closing, unsure of how to reply to something so unnecessarily mean. Spencer’s expression hardened. The room fell into an awkward tension, nobody moving or saying anything.
You pushed out a laugh, “Damn okay.. Tell me what you really think” You muttered under your breath, a joke.
Spencer would’ve laughed at your comment, your way to bring light to a room that had been made so dark but he could see the hurt in your eyes and he felt his heart strings pull against his chest, he wanted to reach out and grab your hand, reassure you that you were perfect for this job.
He was pissed. Actually. There wasn’t a lot that could make Spencer mad — this however was one of the few things that did. He shuffled uncomfortably, finding it difficult to hold his tongue. He could tell Emily and JJ was uncomfortable by the comment made.
Hotch opened his mouth to talk but Spencer had beat him to it. “You’re probably, what 65?” He said, his tone of voice curt and blunt it made your heart turn in Spencer’s direction.
The police officer furrowed his eyebrows, yet nodded anyways. Spencer hummed in response, sitting up a little bit straighter as he leant forward to rest his forearms against the conference table the team had been gathered around.
“Right, so by assumption and well — biology. You are actually probably the least reliable person in this room right now, despite age or gender. Your pace is significantly slower than anyone on your team, and i don’t think I even need to compare you to our team because I don’t wish to further embarrass you or hurt your fragile masculinity much more.” Spencer started.
Your head had fully turned towards his now, eyebrows quipped and eyes widened in shock because you weren’t expecting Spencer of all people to come to your defence. Not because you didn’t think he cared but because the boy could hardly defend himself, you just hadn’t expected him to defend you.
“And actually — we use psychology, which women are actually significantly more successful in because of their ability of understanding, gender plays little to no role in our field of work. Its also ironic since I know you heard Derek on the phone to Garcia, you had no issue with what he had said — so I’m very sure that whatever issue you have, is purely because your masculinity feels threatened by girls who are doing a job you couldn’t fathom. Either get your mind out of the 1800’s or get away from our team.”
“Spence” His head turned towards your voice, taking in your wide eyes and parted lips in shock. He had honestly lost himself in the midsts of his ramble, unable to help it because someone had made you upset. The sweetest, kindest, gentlest person was made to feel bad by a way too old male who was clearly unable to adjust to the way the world was evolving.
“Sorry” Spencer apologised for his ramble. The door slammed shut as the policeman left the room, and Spencer felt a strange sense of pride when he looked back up at you to see a gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you pulled your eyes away from him back to the phone.
“Sorry about that pen.. Those medical records?”
Your smiled returned throughout the rest of the day, Hotch had gone out of his way to talk to the Sheriff and although nobody else had any idea what the conversation between the two included, it was clearly enough to make the Sheriff stay far far away from you and the rest of the team whenever possible.
Although your smile returned, Spencer could almost instantly notice the drastic difference. Maybe it was actually minor because no one else noticed, or maybe he just spent too much time admiring your pretty smile. Either way, he knew he didn’t like it.
“Spence” You said the nickname, a hint of curiosity lacing your tone. his head lifted towards yours with furrowed eyebrows and a small nod of acknowledgement. He repeated your name back to you in the same sort of curious tone.
He watched as you sat up a little bit straighter, meeting his eyes, offering him a smile before you head dipped down again and a gentle breath left your lips. “Do you think I’m unprofessional?” You asked, voice small and gentle and Spencer felt his heart ache so tensely it caused physical pain in his chest.
“No” He answered immediately. The rest of the team were out looking over the crime scenes while he opted for staying back with you while you looked for any connecting links between files. “I think you are very professional. You’re kind but that doesn’t make you unprofessional.” He added, quick to reassure any doubt that weighed down on your pretty mind.
You hummed gently, “But-“ He didn’t let you finish or come up with any sort of argument, he wouldn’t have it. He refused to let man who was balding make you feel any less about yourself.
“But nothing.” He said, his voice stern and final yet so gentle. “He was mean and sexist, if anyone is unprofessional it’s him. You are amazing at what you do, you are smart and kind and everyone who meets you loves you. You’re safe, for everyone. Victims especially. Not everyone has that about them” He said.
It was true, when working cases victims gravitated towards you and your comfort and kindness, if there was someone to trust it was you. Kids and witnesses were always more inclined to talk to you than anyone else on the team because there was something so sweet and welcoming and safe about you.
“You do” You said, tilting your head a little as you looked up at Spencer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion as to what you meant, but his heart skipped a beat anyways.
“You have that something safe about you.” You said, noticing the confusion that covered his features. His heart warmed and ached all at once. Spencer was glad, so so so glad that you found him safe, that he was able to make you feel that way — Honestly he was happy he had any effect on you whatsoever.
“You think so?” He asked, voice a little quieter as he held your gaze. He was scared that if he spoke any louder he may break the fragile moment. You nodded, a small smile on your face, a real smile.
“Mhm, I think thats why I got so comfortable with you so quickly. You’re so.. safe, and smart i think i trust anything you say so please don’t lie to me because that would end really badly for me, and probably give me trust issues and then i will never trust anyone again — and well thats just not good” You rambled out dramatically. Spencer’s smile widened for a series of reasons.
“I would never lie to you.” He said gently, voice carrying a hint of something more, honesty and truth and so much longing it was almost embarrassing, he hoped you missed the way his voice went up an octave.
“Okay good.” You smiled.
Your gaze lingered on Spencer’s for a moment before you turned your head away. He felt like the room had gotten too warm, he had to refrain from the urge to loosen his tie and rub the sweat away from his forehead.
“Did you like the book?” You asked, fingertips grazing over the folder of the case file you were supposed to be reading. Spencer’s eyes followed the movement of your hand before returning to the side of your face.
He nodded, mind going back to the words highlighted in blue and suddenly the room really was too warm, he could feel his palms growing disgustingly sweaty. “I loved it, actually.” Much less because of the context of the story and moreso because you had gifted it to him.
You shook your head as you lifted it to look at him, a smile playing on your lips. He was glad that was back, the sweet genuine smile on your face that could probably drown out any bad day.
“Im gonna be honest, I hate annotating books. I think pages should be left undrawn on, and crisp and beautiful but you like annotating books so i figured.. Um.. That it was a good way to tell you how I felt” You mumbled out, and Spencer was both insanely fond of you going out of your way to do something you disliked for him, and also immensely confused by what you meant.
“How you felt?” He furrowed his eyebrows and he watched as your face went through series of expressions before your eyes widened and your lips parted.
“Oh!” You huffed out, realising he had not understood what you were trying to do and you were now giving yourself away massively. “Oh thats— Really embarrassing actually.” You said as you smiled anyways, bringing your hands up to press against your flush cheeks to try and sooth the warmth.
His eyebrows pinched together as he sat up a little straighter, “No- What? What do you mean?” He asked, he found it sweet what you had highlighted and he didn’t see at all how that was embarrassing, or something he should be making a big deal out of.
You huffed out a laugh, “You’re smart Spencer, and a profiler. Im sure you can figure it out.” You said sweetly before pushing your chair out from the table, standing up. He wanted to reach out but he was stuck trying to figure out what the heck you meant.
“Im going to go get coffee.. Do you want some?” You asked, obviously relishing in his current confusion and obliviousness in order to get yourself out of this all too embarrassing situation if it ended in some sort of rejection you were buying yourself time.
“Um- What? No, No thank you” He answered confused, obviously his mind fixated on what you meant, on what he was missing and trying to figure it out.
You let out a laugh, “You’re sweet.” Before you left the room to get yourself coffee. Spencer’s cheeks warmed instantly at your compliment and if you had stayed longer he might’ve built the courage to argue how insanely ironic it was coming from you.
Instead, he sat confused. His mind going over the two lines highlighted in blue in the book you had gifted him, trying to understand how they referenced how you felt. He made you smile, that was good, he understood that.
But you always smiled. It didn’t take a lot to make you smile so how was that the big confession? Was there some context he was missing. Then he remembered the part of the story the line came from, a love confession. The context of the sentences used.
And suddenly he realised despite his iq, and being a literal genius, he was the biggest idiot on earth.
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goostbusters · 4 days ago
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SPENCER REID HC'S
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- Not big on PDA at all 😪 but at home he's ALL over you, holding your legs on his lap, head on your lap, leaning his head on your shoulder, holding your hand <333
- Sends you detailed letters when he's out in the field for more than a day but he also sends you short texts for updates during the day like "We just delivered the profile 👍" UGHHH
- HAS bought the same brand as your shampoo to bring when hes out working and misses you (every night he spends without you)
- Rambles about literally anything - yapper x listener - you are forced into listening to his long rambles that you don't usually understand but he's just so cute like WHIDJRKKK😭😭💗💗
- He will equally listen to you if you want to though <33 you're the most important thing in his life and he just loves to watch you
- When you fall asleep before him or when he wakes up before you he watches you (like mgg in 68 kill). His eyes are ALWAYS fixed on you when you're in a room with him
- Kisses.
- Kisses when you wake up, kisses when he's leaving, kissing when he gets home, kissing when you're making dinner, kissing when you're laying in bed HE JUST LOVES TO GIVE YOU LIL SMOOCHES WHENEVER HE CAN
- He loves it when you read to him, sometimes when he's at work he calls you before he goes to sleep because he can't rest without you
- Sometimes he can just stare at you in silence, just taking you in
"omghowaretheyrealandwhyaretheylettingmesitherelikethisomgtheyrejustsopretty"
HES SUCH A LOVERBOY, AND I LOVE HIM. GOODNIGHT.
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spaeve · 2 years ago
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oh well i'm on summer break rn and that made my whole passion for cm/spencer/mgg come back with full force, and that's making me realize that 2021 was probably the worst year of my life, and 100% what got me through it was that + my online friends (that i miss so so much ☹️)
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mariasont · 8 months ago
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Bumper to Bumper - A.H
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a/n: this is so self-indulgent i am probably the worst fucking parker you've ever seen it's wild & i also just watched a vid of mgg parking someone's car and went feral so there's that
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader (i don't think there is any use of pronouns just nicknames like honey)
warnings: none? rough day, reader is beefing with parking, tooth-rotting fluff
wc: 800
"Hotchner," came his voice, rough like sandpaper across the line, as you fought back the swell of tears, your lower lip caught in the anxious trap of your teeth.
Your eyes fixed on the parking spot before you, the very sight of it forming a lump in your throat as your frustration mounted. The morning had unfolded like a series of unfortunate events--your coffee machine had sputtered its last, your favorite book left forgotten on the porch to be ruined by the rain, and now, this parking spot seemed to mock you, its yellow lines almost pulsating with contempt. 
Your hand glided across your dampened cheek, exhaling a shaky breath as you juggled the phone between your ear and shoulder. "You know, I don't think I've said this enough, but you're an exceptional boss. Honestly, you're—"
You sensed the sigh in his breath before he spoke. "What do you need?"
"I know I'm late," you managed to get out, a small hiccup halting your sentence as you did everything in your power to avoid crying, but the waver in your voice gave you away. "But I have a good reason--"
Once more, he stopped you mid-sentence, as he often did. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"  
"I'm fine, it's silly."
"If something's wrong, I want to hear it. What's happening?"
"I just... I can't seem to park my car," you choke out, cheeks aflame with mortification. "I've been trying and failing, over and over, it's embarrassing. The spot's too tight, and of course, it's the only one left because 'M late."
"Hold on, I'll be right there," he said, and the line went dead.
You were left staring at your phone, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you. You cringed, feeling smaller with each passing second, knowing he was swamped with work and here you were, unable to perform the simplest task of parking a car.
The moment you saw him step out of the building, your racing heart began to slow, his presence alone easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. He approached and opened the driver's door, and you were suddenly spilling over with apologies, the traces of tears still evident on your cheeks.
He looked at you with a gentleness that melted away the last of your defenses, reassuring you with a simple. "It's okay. I got it."
He took your place behind the wheel and parked the car with ease. As you stood there, you realized how his unwavering steadiness had become a pillar you leaned on more often than you'd like to admit. 
As he stepped out of the car, you approached, your voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, and I'm sorry. I know it's such a small thing..."
He gave a slight sigh, one that seemed to brush away your concerns, a hint of a smile in his eyes and said, "There's nothing to apologize for. Don't be so hard on yourself," he reminded you gently, his hand coming to rest on the soft of your shoulder. 
A silent nod was all you could muster as you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, and your nose, slightly pink from the number of tissues you had abused this morning. In a soft plea, you murmured, "Can I have a hug?"
Without a word, he simple open his arms, an unspoken invitation that you immediately accepted. As you nestled into his arms, your body relaxing as you inhaled his familiar scent. A soft sniffle escaped you as Hotch quietly said, "Five senses..."
You closed your eyes and focused on the sensory details--the comforting touch, his reassuring voice, the sight of his concerned gaze when you opened your eyes, the taste of the air mingled with his cologne, and the grounding scent of him. As your breathing evened out, he gently placed his hand on the pulse point at your neck, counting your heart rate in his mind. 
You stepped back, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "I suppose driving school is next on my training agenda?"
Hotch's expression softened into a subtle smile. "I'd agree, considering I just got you that car, I'd prefer it if you got the chance to enjoy it first before crashing it," he teased back lightly. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.
"Promise."
Hotch glanced at his watch, a decision forming in his eyes. "I think I can free up some time later. How about we get you another copy of your book?"
As your smile broke through the clouds of your frustration, it was as if the sun had pierced through the overcast sky of his day, bathing him in a light he never wanted to leave. "Really?" you responded, practically glowing with delight.
Hotch's heart swelled at the sight, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Gently, he cupped your face, drawing you closer to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you, honey," he said, his voice a low rumble.
You giggled, a little surprised by the public display of affection, you blushed, responding with a shy, "Love you too."
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peachbibi · 4 months ago
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the one in which spencer didn’t tell you about meeting his ex
genre: angst, fluff
warnings: silly spencer, silly reader but happy ending because i’m too soft for this
a/n: i just saw that video with mgg and his ex and got sad. honestly thought i just want him to be happy with whomever
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“I don’t think that’s fair”
You stand in front of your boyfriend, trying your best to understand why he acts the way he does. Although, it’s been almost twenty minutes since you started this conversation. Annoyance mixed with pain and confusion are spreading through your chest like ivy.
“What do you mean it’s not fair?”
Spencer looks bewildered. As if you aren’t speaking the same language he does. As if he doesn’t understand how his actions make you feel.
“I mean what I said, Spencer. You are not being fair” you grit through your teeth.
Deep breaths. You try to look at the clouds through the kitchen window; soft and white they are drifting in the sky. Look anywhere but his face because you are sure you will start crying pretty soon.
“I just went for a coffee with friends”
You leave an exasperated sigh, almost choking on it. The way he said it so nonchalantly and simply it breaks your heart. Your eyes search his face for any sign of delusion.
“She is not just a friend Spencer. You dated for three years. You wanted to propose!”
“I didn’t plan to see her that day. She just joined us for a coffee. I don’t understand why you are getting so angry about it.”
Because he didn’t tell you. Because he came home after work acting as if nothing happened. Because you love him so much sometimes it scares you. The fact that he loved his ex enough to propose makes something small and ugly churn at the pit of your stomach.
“Im not angry. Im upset because I found out about this from Penelope and-”
“Your face is flushed, nostrils flared and you are clenching your fists. You are clearly angry”
“Don’t profile me!”
“Technically, it’s not profiling since you are not a criminal and you didn’t commit any-“
He’s rambling with his brows stitched together. His hands are moving as if he’s explaining something so simple only you can’t understand. You can hear ringing in your ears. It’s getting harder to breathe.
“No, stop it. I can’t talk to you anymore”
You dismiss him and bolt towards your bedroom. His bedroom. You shut the door and let your body collapse on the floor. With your knees pressed tight to your chest and your back pressed to the wooden floor you finally let yourself cry. For some reason, it was always difficult for you to cry in front of Spencer when you were arguing. You would feel defeated. Now, hot tears are streaming down your cheeks as you think about the conversation you had earlier in your relationship. How he was in love with his ex girlfriend and how he even bought the ring. How she broke his heart by the phone. How he was scared to fall in love again because of how damaging the whole experience was for him. How he struggled to open up. You wipe your wet face when you hear a hesitant knock.
“Hey…Can we talk?”
Spencer’s voice is soft and full of warmth and you just hate the way he affects you. The way he makes your heart jump out of your chest, beat rhythmically with his own, squeeze so tightly it hurts.
“Depends” you sniff.
“I apologise”
You stand up and open the door. Even though you try your best to look cold and distant, you look wounded and lost.
“Oh, angel..”
You can see his hand twitch at the sight of your red eyes.
“You should have told me”
“I know. I panicked. I honestly didn’t know she would want to sit with us and then Derek-“
“But you understand why I’m upset?”
His eyes are big brown circles. Like a deer in the field he is watching you.
“I think?”
“Spence, you were so in love you wanted to get married. The fact that you tried to hide that you met up with her is so…painful”
Vision is getting blurry and you start blinking rapidly. Spencer just stares at you. Silence is so loud you can’t bear it.
“You think I have feelings for her”
He finally speaks. You don’t say anything because you’re not sure. Do you? Your gaze falls to the ground. Spencer makes a step towards you. His big palms reach behind your back. Your face is pressed to his chest and you feel helpless.
“I’m so sorry, angel. There’s no one else but you. You know that. I need you to know that. I love you so much. Please, tell me you know that. The only reason I didn’t tell you is because I didn’t want to upset you and I understand now that I was wrong and stupid and you deserved to know”
Spencer kisses the top of your head and rubs your back.
“Nothing happened. I swear. Derek and Penelope were there and they can confirm that. She just joined us for a coffee and left. Please, forgive me for not telling you straight away”
He pulls away to take a look at you. You know he is telling the truth. You know that there’s a part of you that feels a little insecure but that’s not his fault. Spencer never did anything to make you doubt him. He was always so caring and loving and attentive that it’s easy for you to believe that he just wanted to protect your feelings.
“You are the only one I want”
He kisses your forehead and you melt. More tears are pouring down your face but mostly because of how overwhelmed you feel. How much love and even relief you feel after his words. Spencer brushes the tears away with his thumbs.
“Please, don’t cry. I don’t know what else to do. If you want me-“
“No, I believe you. I just…I love you so much it’s scary sometimes”
Spencer smiles and plants a sweet kiss on your lips.
“I know exactly how you feel”
You pull him into another kiss. A more sensual one. The desperation and need to feel him right now is so intense you just want to drown in him. Good thing that he indulges you.
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rynwritesreid · 1 year ago
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MunchSpencer, stressed bau reader 😉 do ur thing
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A/N: I will absolutely do my thing for you iluvreid. Did I base this of that video of MGG eating that pie? Yes. Do I think about that video daily? Yes. Also to answer somebody else’s questions, I am planning on writing Luke fics in the future, and I do take Rossi requests (I take all requests that are to do with CM). I am also working through everyone’s else’s request, I’m waiting for some inspiration on the song ones :) As always jag älskar dig 🫶🏼
Content: Smut and Fluff. Fem! Reader. Overstimulation. Oral (F! receiving). Vaginal fingering. Slight dom/sub undertones. Mentions of doing this at work in the future. Munch! Spencer. Pet names (princess). A little argument to start of with, but it’s resolved quickly.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation.
 
Spencer had noticed how you were acting at work; he knew all the signs of you being stressed out. He tried his hardest to de-stress you at work, he had brought you all of your favourite snacks, he made sure you had plenty of water and coffee, but none of this seemed to be working.
 
Once you were both at home, he tried to ask you what was wrong, but you just shrugged him off, asking him to just leave you alone for a minute. “I’m not going to leave you alone; I know something is wrong. Just tell me.” His voice was strained, he was becoming frustrated, not with you, but because he didn’t know what to do.
 
“Spencer, back off. Nothing is wrong, I’ve told you. I’m just tired.” You bite back at him. You knew he was trying to be helpful, but you just wanted some piece of quiet.
 
“Something is wrong, why aren’t you telling me? Let me help you out here.” Spencer's voice softened as he watched the frustration etched on your face. He understood that his insistence might have been adding to your stress, but he couldn't bear to see you in pain. With a sigh, he took a step closer and gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace.
 
"I'm sorry if I'm coming across as pushy. I just hate seeing you like this, and I want to be there for you," he whispered against your hair, his fingers slowly rubbing soothing circles on your back. Spencer knew what would help him out if he was stressed, and he knew it would also work on you.
 
See, Spencer’s favourite place was to be in-between your legs. If he could, he would spend every hour, of every day there, exploring every inch of your body, losing himself in the pleasure he found there. He cherished the way you moaned his name, the way your legs would tremble as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy.
 
His hands continued their caress, moving lower down your back until they reached the curve of your hips. He could feel the tension in your body slowly melting away as his touch seeped into your pores, bringing warmth and comfort. The rhythm of his movements matched the beating of your heart, steady and reassuring.
 
"I know you're tired, but maybe... just maybe, I can help you relax," Spencer murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of gentleness and desire. He guided you towards the bedroom, with every intention of not letting you leave until you were totally relaxed.
 
As he undressed you with utmost care, his fingertips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Spencer's touch was like a delicate dance. His lips followed suit, pressing soft kisses along the path his hands had taken.
 
You found yourself surrendering to his ministrations, allowing the weight of the world to be lifted from your shoulders as pleasure consumed you. The stress that had plagued you all day melted away under the skilled touch of your lover.
 
The bed welcomed you both, its soft sheets cradling your bodies as Spencer continued his exploration. He knew every inch of you, every secret spot that drove you wild with desire. His mouth found its way to your neck, peppering it with butterfly kisses before trailing down to your collarbone.
 
A sigh escaped your lips, mingling with a gasp of pleasure as Spencer's tongue danced across your skin. The knots in your muscles unravelled as his hands glided over your body, burning away any remnants of stress. Your breath hitched as his lips descended further, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your chest, pausing to pay special attention to your sensitive breasts.
 
Spencer's touch was both tender and insistent, his fingers tracing patterns of desire across your skin. He knew exactly how to coax pleasure from your body, each stroke and caress tailored to elicit the most exquisite sensations. With every passing moment, the weight on your shoulders lifted, replaced by a growing sense of bliss that radiated from deep within.
 
Lust and love intertwined as Spencer's mouth found its way to the apex of your thighs. His tongue teased and taunted, sending electric currents of pleasure through your veins. Waves of heat cascaded through you, building with each flicker and swirl until they crashed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy.
 
Your moans filled the room, mingling with Spencer's own growls of desire as he revelled pleasure. His movements became more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, coaxing louder cries of satisfaction from your lips. You clutched onto his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you rode the waves of pleasure that consumed you.
 
Spencer’s hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he devoured you with an intensity that left you gasping for breath. Your hips were instinctively rocking against his skilled mouth, grinding against his face in search of more.
 
Spencer's touch was relentless, his tongue and lips working tirelessly to ensure your pleasure knew no bounds. The sensation of his mouth on you, the wet heat, and the flicks of his tongue, sent sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. Your walls clenched around nothing as your body convulsed in bliss.
 
But Spencer didn’t plan on stopping now, he was never satisfied if he only made you cum once. And now, more than ever, he was going to continue, he knew you needed it, and he knew he wanted it.
 
Soon enough, his fingers joined his mouth slipping inside you with a precision that left you trembling. You hadn’t been able to come down from your first orgasm, and now you were soaring even higher. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers brought you to the brink of another climax within moments. Every stroke, every flick, and every curl of his fingers sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
You lost all sense of time and space, consumed by the pleasure that coursed through every fibber of your being. Your mind became a haze of pure desire as Spencer continued to bring you to new heights with every stroke, every flick of his tongue.
 
Spencer's movements became more insistent, his fingers moving with an urgency that matched the burning need in your core. Each stroke sent shockwaves through you, intensifying the pleasure that consumed you. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge of yet another mind-shattering orgasm.
 
He paused, giving you a slight break. “Are you feeling better now, princess?”
 
You lay there, panting heavily, your body still trembling from the intense pleasure that Spencer had just bestowed upon you. Your mind was hazy, your senses heightened, and a sense of tranquillity washed over you. The stress that had weighed you down seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a deep sense of satisfaction.
 
You turned to look at Spencer, his face glowing with adoration as he admired the aftermath of his ministrations. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you nodded, the words caught momentarily in your throat.
 
"Yes," you finally managed to rasp out, your voice laced with awe and gratitude. "I feel... incredible."
 
Spencer's eyes sparkled with delight as he took in your response. He gently caressed your cheek, his touch feather-light against your flushed skin.
 
"Good," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "That's all I wanted."
 
“I think I should get stressed more often.”
 
Spencer chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lazily along your side. "If getting stressed means, I get to relieve your tension like this, then I might have to start causing trouble on purpose."
 
You playfully swatted his chest, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, so you're admitting that you enjoy being the cause of my stress?"
 
His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned down to capture yours in a lingering kiss.
 
“No, I’m admitting that I love hearing your moans, and it took all my might not to do this at work, but I can’t let the rest of the team hear how you moan for me. Those noises are for my ears only.”
 
Your heart raced at his words, a delicious mixture of desire and anticipation coursing through your veins. You had always known that Spencer had a playful side, but this level of raw intimacy was something new and exhilarating.
 
With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned in closer, your lips mere inches from his as you whispered, "Well then, Agent Reid, I guess we'll have to find somewhere at work no one would be able to hear us”.
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007reid · 1 year ago
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So, still in the au of “secrets: Spencer Reid”..
I wanna see the teams reactions to reader and how cute Spencer is with her and how protective she is of him. Maybe Spence gets a little drunk and reader has an arm locked around him with a possessive scowl on their face. Pleeaasee??
you ask and you shall receive! i’m glad you enjoyed secrets, anon<3 sorry this is so late :(
secrets p. 2. spencer reid
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spencer reid x fem!reader
part 1 | part 2 ♡ this can be read as a stand-alone though!
summary: everyone expected spencer’s plus one to be his grandma or a close friend visiting. to see him show up with you hanging off his arm, clad in a black dress and rubbing your blood red lips together, you become the talk of the night.
warnings: fluff fluff just straight fluff!! spencer introducing his gf to the fam, teasing, drinking, flirting , nothing out of da norm. r is tough and possessive and spencer is basically her girlfriend.
a/n: someone take pinterest away from me because i’m getting too good at scouring for mgg stills and staring at them for hours. tell me you didn’t stare at that picture too.
spencer texted morgan that night, telling him that he’s bringing a plus one. morgan responded with a curt “yea bring ur ma on over why not.”
it appears that morgan did not take spencer that seriously. so he texted garcia, and she responded with “which member of the family havent we met? ❤️” spencer was just midst of falling on to his knees.
the day rolls around and spencer dreads it, plots a plan to make you watch a star wars movie marathon so that you’d fall asleep by the time of the event. he’s not a social recluse, by any means (okay so sometimes he is) but he prefers an evening staying in over going out. and it’s sunday evening, too, and he just wants an early night and to kiss you lazily until he’s sleepy. he doesn’t want to start the car, doesn’t want to get dressed up and get tidy for the bar. doesn’t wanna go anywhere.
the marathon plan backfired on him. just as you’re halfway through the third movie, you start pushing the throw blanket off your bodies, nudging spencer’s arms off of you. spencer whines, and he tries to make himself look extra pathetic (which didn’t take much, considering how he’s already desperate to get out of meeting the team) so that you’d pity him.
you don’t fall for his act one bit, which is extremely humbling to spencer. his puppy eyes used to work on you, but he suppose you’ve grown an immunity to them. “lazy boy,” you chides. he hides his face in the crook of your neck and you laugh. “come on, we’ll be late.”
“fashionably late,” spencer quips. you laugh again, detangling your bodies and press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the living room. spencer sits on the couch for a while and contemplates.
he does end up dragging his ass off the couch and freshen himself up. you have decided to use the guest bathroom for some reason, and he gets ready by himself, shaving before throwing on a simple burgundy sweater with all kind of patterns on it and some black pants, smoothing his hair out a bit and tucking them neatly behind his ears.
he rubs at his chin, looking at himself in the mirror. he looks like a middle school civics teacher, but he couldn’t careless.
he grabs his phone and slides it in his back pocket, going to the closed guest bathroom door. he knocks softly, leaning in close to not miss your voice.
“yn?”
“almost there,” you respond through the door.
“can i come in?”
“uhh,” spencer frowns. it’s unusual you’re doing this. you guys have shared an apartment for five months now, and he’s basically learned to lived around your life, to always have you wherever. getting ready apart is definitely unusual, and you’re being hesitant about letting him in, even.
maybe you’re still mad about the lila thing. he should apologize the moment he gets the chance.
“sure honey,” you say finally. spencer cautiously opens the door, and you’re sitting on the bed, pulling up your black pantyhose. he melts and perks up simultaneously at the sight of you.
you’re wearing a shiny, black silk dress that goes halfway down your thighs, the material pooling on the white sheets as you adjusts the pantyhose, reaching for your matching black leather mary janes. spencer looks down at himself, feeling timidly underdressed. you look up and smile at him so easily as if you're not the most beautiful woman in the world.
spencer feels his throat clog up. he clears it but when he speaks his voice is still blurry. "hi."
"hi," you buckle up your mary janes, gold necklace hovering above your knee. spencer stands awkwardly at the door, too entranced to move. you look up when he doesn't answer immediately, and breathe out a laugh when you see the dumb, starstruck look on his face. "gonna stand there all night baby?"
"mhm," spencer says absentmindedly. he finally bounces off the door frame and carefully sits himself on the bed next to you, cautious with every move. he immediately gets a faceful of the scent of your perfume and you look like an angel, smell like one too. "new dress?"
"mhm, thrifted it the other night," you respond. you stand up from the bed and do a small twirl, the thin fabric forming the shape of a flower, flying. you remind him of a black cherry blossom, if those even existed. "you like it? found it for four dollars. can you believe that? deal of a lifetime. if i had gotten to the thrift later someone would've snatched it right up."
to be honest, spencer isn't listening to a single word you're saying. he stares at you, and your silver hoops and crinkling eyes and the silver necklace he gifted you for your birthday five months ago and gets dizzy with the thought of how lucky he is.
"crazy deal," he says. then blurts. "you look beautiful."
you smile playfully. "you're just saying that," you laugh, smoothing out your hair in the mirror installed in the wardrobe. spencer stares at your reflection. "looking dapper yourself, doctor."
"do you think i should change?" he asks. because right now, it looks like you're both dressing up for different events. him to a school-based textbook debate conference and you to a high class art museum. neither events are the actual event you are both going to.
"you look handsome, spence," you reassure him. "that sweater. it suits you."
"it doesn't suit the bar," spencer grumbles quietly, still upset that he has to show up. he's not a bar man. more of a picnic or joinery kind of guy.
"you weren't born to suit whenever you're going," you say and then grab his hand. "we're gonna be late."
***
spencer gets even more grumbly when you both enters the bar, but you know in his heart he's extremely happy. he practically lights up when he sees his team crowding at a booth, dragging you along by the arm. he says hi to everyone, immediately comfortable just from the presence of his team except his excitement isn't mutual. the team isn't looking at him, but at you.
goggling like an eagle, some might say. you elbow spencer in the ribs. spencer looks at you questioningly, as if he doesn't know what to do.
"introduce me," you urge, feeling more awkward by the second. a man staring at you with his jaw on the table, beer frozen halfway to his lips you assume is morgan has a terrified look on his face. everyone does, actually.
"oh yeah. sorry," spencer says, ears turning slightly red but his beam is still bright. "everyone, this is yn. she's my girlfriend!"
"sweet mary jesus," morgan finally says. he breaks the ice, and the entire booth corrupts in excitement.
"reid, what are you doing? sit the lady down," jj scowl, scooting over and making space, squishing emily against her. spencer lets you slide in first, next to jj and he sits down after you, hand gentle at your waist. "why didn't you tell us?"
"well i tried to--"
"i really thought we had nothing to hide from each other. you know you could've trusted me with it!" garcia quips, her thick neon red earrings moving back and forth.
"i didn't do anything deliberate to hide it!" spencer defends himself snarkily.
"i couldn't deduce you had a girlfriend. i just thought someone who made you really happy started crashing at your place," hotch says, thoughtfully.
"let the girl talk," rossi rolls his eyes. spencer definitely captures their personalities well when he tells you stories about the bau, you recognize everyone just from a sentence. the table quiets and you can feel the warmness of eyes all on you.
"hi everyone," you could feel your cheeks getting warm from the attention. you wanted to make an impression, but it's hard. you go for the standard, "i've heard a lot about everybody."
"we would've loved to hear about you," garcia chirps. "but spencer is a very private soul. how long have you been together?"
the evening dissolves into small talk and teasing, and out of everyone in the bau, perhaps the one who's most shocked and proud of spencer is morgan. he sits back, arm tossed around garcia, admiring spencer like a pleased older brother seeing his baby brother ask for his car keys to take his new girlfriend out on a date. hotch has the same expression on his face, one of a proud dad.
he knew that something had been keeping spencer extra upbeat than usual, the lack of eye bags and how he's always energized and better put together. hotch couldn't place a figure on what it was, but now he realizes it was you. spencer almost glows, basking in the shower of your presence and hotch knows that under the table you and spencer are probably doing something cringy like rubbing circle-eights into each other's knees or holding hands under the table. the same thing he did when he was hopelessly in honeymoon love.
the entire table are happy for the both of you, but there's probably isn't anyone in the club more happy than spencer. he is lovesick and you're so beautiful, he can't help it. he feels more comfortable than he ever had been in a club, and that encourage him to knock more drinks down, have a little more fun.
"i'll grab the next round," you say, noticing that the beers in everyone's hands are getting lukewarm. you press a hand against spencer's thigh as you get up. spencer looks up at you, eyes wide and sweet. "i'll be right back."
as soon as you absorb into the crowd, the entire table startles in cheers and whistles. spencer glows red, partly from the alcohol. mostly from the attention. "my man!" morgan praises, knocking a punch into spencer's shoulder.
"ow!"
"she's beautiful," jj says approvingly. "she knows how to dress."
"i'm sayin'!" despite how much he denies it, derek is a horrible lightweight. he slurs. "how the hell did you bag her? tell us your secrets."
spencer blushes like a newly courted bride, going magenta all over.
"okay stop bullying the kid," emily says, but she's grinning wide.
"he definitely likes it," garcia giggles, pressed flat against morgan.
when you return, beers in your hand, the entire booth are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls and your boyfriend is rambling, on and on. "sorry i took a while," you say, and within a flash everyone's grabbed beers for themselves, knocking the caps over. it's reached that point of the night when everyone's breath smells of beer, and the music is extra loud and everyone's extra dizzy. spencer latches onto you immediately the moment you sit down, staring at you with fucking moons in his eyes.
"i was just talking about you," he says, pupils wide. you know your boy is beyond drunk.
"yeah?" spencer nods. "what about?"
spencer hiccups and forgets the question. "wanna dance?"
a small smile creep on your face. it's unusual for spencer to ask, usually he doesn't even want to witness the act of people dancing together at all. "you sure?" you lock an arm around him. no one pays attention to the two of you, lost in their own conservations. spencer nods again.
"can we dance? let's go," he makes to move, pouting his lips but you slither your arms all over him, trapping him into you. "y/nnn," he whines.
"stay put for a bit for me okay?” you murmur, trying to distract him from the dancefloor.
it’s not like you oppose to dancing. hell, you love dancing, but ever since you stood up to grab the table drinks, you notice unwanted eyes across the bar glued on your boy, women with sharp eyebrows and pointy chins and short dresses, and you can never help the awful feeling that coils in your stomach.
jealousy is an irritating feeling to feel, and it’s telling you to dig your teeth into his neck and mark him all over for everyone to see and look away. but you won’t do that, because you have a slightest drops of decency you have saved up, and the least you can do is pamper spencer with kisses and grab onto his hand so tight he’d think of you instead of the inviting dancefloor.
spencer falls for it immediately, returning your kisses and whining pathetically against your lips, the alcohol making his head spin. spencer ‘s never been a fan of pda but he couldn’t careless now, hanging on you like a cat, dancefloor forgotten. you smile against his lips.
victory.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 8 months ago
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OUUH WHAT ABOUT spencer watching her do her makeup, pick out an outfit, get dolled up to go meet his team
fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 498.
a/n: AWW OMG writing this actually gave me cavities. this is probably the fluffiest thing i've ever written on this account!! i really tried to get into the mind of our precious bimbo reader, and i feel like i did a pretty good job if i do say so myself! 😏
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You always liked to say that you did your best work under pressure, so why in the hell wasn’t your eyeshadow… eyeshadowing?
You looked at yourself in the vanity mirror, your gloss covered lips turned down into a deep frown. The lines caused by your frustration left behind little creases in your carefully laid foundation. You were one more mishap from a total breakdown.
Tonight was the night that you were going to meet your boyfriend’s team, which in your mind translated to his family. You had met his mom already, and she liked you, so why were you so intimidated? Maybe it was because these people were like your precious boyfriend just twenty times more terrifying.
Tonight had to go well, or you swear that you might just die!
“Spence?” You turn around in your porcelain white chair that  completely contrasts the dark coziness that was Spencer’s room. 
“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer responds from behind the book he had his nose buried in. He had been resting against the headboard, the lower half of his body relaxed and his legs were stretched out carelessly. The advantage of being a human string-bean, you supposed.
“Does my makeup look okay?”
Your exasperated tone in your voice forced his eyes away from the page and onto yours.
He was surprised by the light tones of eyeshadow you had picked, they were a lot different from the bold pink, purples, and blues. That could only mean one thing.
“There’s no need to be anxious, honey. You look beautiful.”
Usually, you were very susceptible to Spencer’s praise, often turning bashful and shy, as well as giggling and grinning like a schoolgirl. Nope, not today. Today felt like not even the sweetest of hymns could bring you down from your anxiety ridden stupor.
“Really? Because I don’t know about the color… I feel like the eyeliner makes it look clumpy.”
Spencer Reid was trained for this, if the hours of cosmetology research he had done counted for something. Why you may ask? Well, the first time you had asked him about your makeup was when you two had first started dating, and it had unfortunately gone a little bit like this:
“Does this look okay?”
“It looks fine, angel.”
“Oh God, I should just start over, shouldn’t I?”
“That’s not what I said.”
Spencer smiles fondly, “It doesn’t look clumpy at all. In fact I think the dark and light colors complement each other well, they make your eyes look large and enchanting.”
And just like that, all of your apprehension melts away. “Oh, good!” You all but cheer.
He watches with a lovesick smile on his face as you pull out outfit-after-outfit from the closet – that’s really more yours than it is his – with an excited grin.
“How about this one?”
Spencer knows he’s in for a long night; with his book long forgotten, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that you have an hour before you guys have to leave.
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tjwritesfanfics · 9 days ago
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Three's company (Spencer Reid & Chip Taylor)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (ft. Chip Taylor)
Summary: Spencer finally says yes to your request for a threesome and you choose his twin brother, Chip.
Rating: Mature 18+ only
Warning: Threesome, oral (male receiving), masturbation, p in v sex (Unprotected. Guys you know the drill. Be safe)
Words: 983 (Not a long smut sorry)
Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Other MGG Characters Masterlist
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“You can tell me”
“No, I really don’t think I can.”
Spencer ran his fingers over the skin of your hip, enjoying the view of you post orgasm. The topic of different things to try in bed came up and when you thought about it, you knew you couldn’t bring up your wildest dream… again.
Spencer doesn’t share well. He never really has, but when you asked to have a threesome he hesitated and when he said he would think about it, but it depended on who it was, and you said his twin brother, he flipped.
“No way! I won’t share you with my brother.”
His words echoing in your head even now when your brain is on a high from the new thing Spencer learned to do with his tongue. Sometimes bringing up the idea of watching porn with your boyfriend was beneficial.
“Is it the threesome thing?” Your silence was enough of an answer for him. You could see him enter a deep state of thought, genuinely thinking of if he wants to share you with not only another person, but his own brother. His TWIN brother. The men in his family were really good at giving, a fact he was unhappy to know about his father and brother, and what if Chip was better than him? 
Though he doesn’t know what makes you weak in the knees. He could try with all his might, but Spencer would be the end for you… Right?
In the end he knew he would give into your desire, even if he wasn’t that comfortable with it, because Spencer would give you the moon and the stars if he could.
hich is how he found himself agreeing to your request. Your squeal of happiness was the immediate reassurance that he made the right decision, but then a few days later when you were on your knees, in HIS favorite purple lingerie no less, sucking on his brother’s dick, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“After all that happened to you, Chippy, I just want you to feel worshiped.” Was the reasoning you gave to Chip as you slid down to your knees in front of him, wiggling your hips for Spencer’s view from where he sat in the recliner you requested be in the room, and undoing Chip’s jeans.
You whimpered at how hard he was already, the tip a bright red. And without warning you had swallowed Chip whole, his brother’s head falling back and letting out a loud moan.
Spencer smirked a little at the sight, knowing how warm and wet your mouth was and what it was like to experience it for the first time, despite the little green monster sitting on his shoulder telling him that he should tie Chip up and make him watch as Spencer fucked his woman into submission.
But all he could do was palm his erection to relieve any form of pressure. He told you that he would go along with this and do as you wanted.
And right now you wanted to devour his brother’s cock while he seemed to lose his mind.
“Oh fuck!” Chip moaned, his hands searching for a perch in your hair, gripping harshly which caused you to moan around him, the vibrations sending him over the edge, his cum spilling into your mouth.
You pulled back, swallowing what you could before turning to Spencer, opening your mouth to show him that you finished your meal.
“My good girl always knows how to please, huh Chip?”
Chip nodded, his cheeks flushing at the authoritative voice that came from his twin. While they were the same in looks and everything, they were also so different. Spencer was smart and Chip was a bit dumb, sweet, but dumb.
And it seems that they were also different in the bedroom as well, Spencer seeming to stay in complete control despite the little minx currently crawling towards him and crawling into his lap.
And Chip? He came so fast that it was almost embarrassing, but no one had ever had their mouth on his dick before. He wasn’t used to the sensation.
But one thing was for certain, he wanted more. Though it was Spencer’s one rule, no fucking his woman, he wanted to defy his brother and have you.
He wouldn’t, because he respected Spencer, but god did he want to. Just the thought of taking your tight little pussy had him hard again.
Your mewl pulled Chip out of his thoughts, his eyes seeing that Spencer had already started what he wanted to do, panties of the lingerie pushed aside, his brother’s cock buried deep inside of your cunt as you rode him with all your might, which even to Chip he could tell that it wasn’t for you.
Spencer’s smile said that he noticed Chip’s stare and as if it was what he was waiting for he planted his feet firmly on the ground and fucked up into you. You screamed at the sudden force, falling forward and submitting to Spener’s assault.
Chip couldn’t stand it anymore as he wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping in time with his brother’s trusts. Faster and deeper, Chip couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where Spencer’s cock disappeared, the wet slick of your pussy glistening in the dim light.
The three of you moan in sync, the sensation becoming too much to handle. Chip came first, his cum spurting from his tip and over the floor, you shortly after, Spencer’s assault of your G-spot having you seeing stars.
A few more thrusts and Spencer came deep inside of you, painting your insides white with his release.
As much as he hated to admit it… That was the hottest thing the two of you have done in the bedroom in a long while.
Maybe Chip can join again, but only on his terms.
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it-was-summer · 2 months ago
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The Very First... Second... Third Night
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A/N: Hey guys, happy fall!!! Fun fact about me, I love Season one reid so much it's not even funny. That's pookie!!!!! Anyways, enjoy this little fluffy cute thing I wrote in a romance-infused haze (I saw that photo of MGG in that pumpkin sweater at knott's berry farms and I needed Spencer in a Halloween way). MAYBE some porn coming soon idk man. Love you all!!-Em <3
Link to the Ao3: The Very First... Second... Third Night ->Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Can't remember if I use any female pronouns for reader, but warning just incase. Season one reid, MENTION OF JEID, SPENCELLE, AND bisexual Reid, Spencer reid being critical of himself, Spencer's POV for the most part, jello mentioned guys, Overstimulated Spencer Reid at a football game, mention of a cemetery, mention of Nosferatu (1922). Kind of proofread, yippie!!!
Genre: Fluffy meet cutes. Pairing: Season One! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader.
Plot: Spencer runs into you twice before but only manages to get your name (and number) the third time.
Word Count: 3,863
First Meeting
Spencer can’t remember the last time this bookstore was so crowded. Personally, he tried to go on early Sunday mornings to avoid the crowds– if any– that came into the shop. Maybe he was being overdramatic. There couldn’t have been more than twenty people in the store with him. But it was still twenty too many. He softly apologizes to the elderly woman as he squeezes past her in the narrow nonfiction aisle. 
Most of the crowd seemed to be hovering around the fiction area, which was fine with him– the further away, the better. With his head turned to watch the small crowd bustle about the store, he didn’t notice the person standing just inches from him in the aisle. 
You stared at him with a confused expression for a second, thinking surely this man would move eventually. But the moment never came. He was tall with brown hair and long eyelashes. He had the fashion sense of a teacher– correction, teacher’s assistant. You clear your throat softly, hardcover clutched in hand as you watch the man’s head snap over to you, his cheeks flushing red. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t see you. Not that you’re hard to miss– I mean in a good way, you’re–” He closes his mouth and swallows hard, looking into your gentle eyes. “I’m sorry.” 
You would have felt a little agitated if he hadn’t seemed so earnest, but this man oozes social anxiety, and your heart takes pity on him. Your lips move to a slow smile, and you whisper a sweet, “That’s alright,” 
Spencer’s sure he’s never seen kinder eyes, “It’s just so busy today. I was looking at the crowd,” 
Your head turns at that, allowing Spencer to take in your features. A light sweater to accommodate the cool air this early-October morning, some Halloween earrings that make Spencer smile, and stunning eyes. “Book signing pop-up, it’ll be crazy until three. At least that's what the stock girl told me.” You’re soft-spoken, too. Spencer can appreciate that.
He nods slightly, looking down at the hardcover in your hand and then over at the crowd again, “Are you not here for the book signing?” 
“Afraid not,” You sigh as you hold up a historical fiction novel, “Me and my historical fiction novel were going to take a gander at some biographies.” 
He can’t help his peaked interest as he licks his lips, “Regarding?” He’s a fan of history himself and is always happy to interact with someone who also shares a love for it. He feels slightly less anxious talking about something he knows.
You twist your lips to the side like you’re silently debating whether or not you should tell him. You look away for a second, your eyes scanning the bookshelves on either side of you. “Salem Witch Trials.” You answer him bluntly. 
Spencer nods like he understands precisely what you mean, “Ah, the more humane witch trials.” It's a funny joke… to him, at least. 
But then your lips twitch upwards as you let out a quiet chuckle, “No burning for us, just rope and intense torture.” 
He feels electric, which is stupid because he shouldn’t feel excited over something as simple as someone joking with him, but he does. He’s been working on it upon Derek’s sarcastic request, and he can’t help but wonder if it is finally paying off now. 
Spencer feels the overwhelming urge to partake in what Garcia describes as ‘info-dumping ,’ but he bites his tongue as he settles on a simple question, “How come?” 
You shrug slightly as you look up at him. The bookstore light keeps making his eyes a soft amber, and you’re having a hard time looking away now. “Halloween tradition.” You watch his eyebrow furrow, raising a hand to explain yourself quickly. “My best friend and I each pick a historical event that is relatively macabre, and then we base our costumes around it and throw a party with a related theme. It’s... It’s stupid.” You say with a smile and a wave of your hand dismissively. 
Meanwhile, Spencer’s too busy thinking you’re the most extraordinary girl he’s ever interacted with. For the first time in his life, he’s desperate for an invite to a stranger’s party—a pretty stranger who has yet to tell him her name. 
“That’s not-” 
A woman’s voice cuts him off as she barrels down the aisle with a grin, “There you are, oh…” Her blue eyes look Spencer up and down carefully, studying him. “Hello, there.” She’s direct and forward and speaks in a tone that tells Spencer to leave you the hell alone. 
He nods curtly, waving slightly at your friend. You sigh out with mock annoyance as you say, “He’s a friendly, put your gun away.” 
“I don’t believe in guns.” 
“They’re very real, trust me.” Is your sarcastic reply before looking at Spencer again. “Thanks for the company. I’ll see you around.” And just like that… you’re gone. 
Second Meeting
Spencer is sure he’ll never see you again, but here he is a week later, still thinking about you on a case. Or rather, he’s thinking about every woman ever and that he’ll never have a chance with any of them… ever. He’s feeling rather lonely, or maybe his self-esteem is taking a certain nose-dive this fine San Diego day. 
It’s not because it’s his birthday. He doesn’t hate his birthday like Elle hates hers– that’s what she told him once—the day started off great: the trick candles, the big birthday hat, his embarrassing crush on JJ. And now, they’re discussing the case, a routine he enjoys. 
His mind, always full of helpful information, quickly recognized the ballad from the 17th century– betwixt death and a lady. After his comment regarding what people could find by typing the word ‘death’ in the search engine, Derek’s laughing, “Reid, no wonder you can’t get a date.”
It sticks on him; he would love to let it slide off his back, but he’s not familiar with that kind of territory– dating, that is– so it hits a nerve. A nerve that Spencer didn’t know was so exposed. The worst part is that Derek’s not wrong. Spencer can’t seem to get a date. Not with the pretty intellectual at the bookstore, JJ, or Elle– though that last one feels strange to admit to himself. 
He’s too awkward, speaks too fast, and, according to Gideon, needs to relax more. He’s sure… he’s cute, actually, he doesn’t know if he is. All he knows is that his mind is brilliant, his skills involving women… not so much. 
He’s silently mulling it over as he approaches one of the bulletin boards, muttering lines of the ballad softly when JJ walks up beside him, “Creepy, huh?” Her voice makes him look at her, hesitating as he replies. 
“Actually, uh, conversations between death and his victims was a fairly popular literary and artistic theme throughout the Renaissance.” He’s staring at the bulletin for a second before glancing her away, and his cheeks feel hot when he sees the way JJ is looking at him– disinterest. “But, yeah, creepy.” 
He feels like a teenager, and all those years spent in college and not high school are coming back to bite him. He liked girls and boys, too. He should be better at this, he has an IQ of 187 and five degrees to prove it. Spencer walks away from the conversation quickly, his feet carrying him away from the embarrassing moment as quickly as possible. He needs to focus on the case. 
And focus he does. He’s happy to analyze the meaning of the ballads at the crime scenes, his anxiety calming as he settles into the sweet caress of facts. Feelings, beauty, and tastes were all subjective. The objective was his comfort zone.
So it stands to reason that he feels lighter after conversing with Gideon about why the UnSub would start to use the ballad if it wasn’t a part of his signature. However, after the team delivers the profile, his lightness returns to his ruminating thoughts surrounding his lack of social skills. 
The more he thinks about it, the more he feels the icy breath of repressed memories breathing down his neck. A jammed locker, missing gym clothes, a dark bathroom bolted shut. As the team waits for the UnSub’s suspected phone call to the tip line, he reaches for his bag to pull out a Rubix cube. 
His fingers quickly twist and turn it aimlessly until he feels like it’s mixed around enough for him to solve it again. Elle is sitting in a desk chair in front of him as he solves it. He wants to ask her if she’d ever consider dating him, if she thinks JJ would, or if she feels any self-respecting woman would. He doesn’t, though, the question sounding too desperate in his head to say it out loud. 
Instead, he asks, “Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” His eyes don’t stray away from the cube for too long as he asks it, scared of what Elle’s gaze might tell him. 
He’s pleasantly surprised when she chuckles and says, “I don’t know how it is that you know half the things you know, but I’m glad you do.” 
Spencer feels insecure when he speaks again, but he has to know the answer, “Do you think it’s why I can’t get a date?” He looks up at her now, waiting for the brutal blow, which is her answer. 
Elle looks slightly amused. “You ever ask anyone out?” She smiles a little, seeing the genius look genuinely dumbfounded for a second as he thinks about it. 
He never had the confidence to walk up to someone he found attractive and say something interesting enough to warrant a ‘yes’ if he asked them on a date. “No,” 
She gives him a slight shrug of her shoulders, “That’s why you can't get a date.” And Spencer seems to nod at that, and his lips tighten for a second as he nods before he looks away from her again. His focus is pulled back to the case when the UnSub calls, and for a little while, he feels better. 
On the flight home, he’s almost completely forgotten about his spiral as he plays chess with Gideon. When he hands Spencer a small present, a little smile plays on his lips as he says, “But you don’t give birthday presents.” When he finally gets the present open, he feels a little confused as he thanks Gideon for the generous gift– two VIP box seat Redskin tickets. 
He’s excited, nonetheless, to experience something new with Gideon, and Spencer believes him when he says that Spencer will love it. 
“We are. You’re coming with me, right?” Spencer asks with a slight grin.
Gideon smiles, “No.” he doesn’t let Spencer’s confusion build for long as he quickly adds, “Someone else on the plane is a huge skins fan.” 
“Who?” 
“Only person in the world who calls you Spence.” 
Speaking of the only person in the world that calls him Spence, the date was going terribly. She had invited Penelope; she thought it was a group thing. He begged Hotch and Gideon for some pointers, anything. They reminded him she was already his friend, but that wasn’t very helpful. He knew how to talk to her on a typical day. On a date? Not so much.
Then, she invited Penelope. Now he’s stuck on a date where only one person in the group knows it was supposed to be a date, and he feels nauseous. He’s trying to keep a conversation going, but every time it picks up for a second, he feels himself fumble the metaphorical ball, and it dies again. 
Eventually, he excuses himself to get some air. He’s debating calling Gideon and updating him on how it’s going. His feet pace on the concrete stadium floor. He’s near the elevators, and he can barely hear himself– it’s auditory overload hell. He shuts his eyes tight, stuffing his phone back into his pocket as he covers his ears, leaning against the cool wall beside the elevators. 
It’s all muffled, barely helping, but the feeling of the cool wall on his back through his clothes helps relax him slightly. His shoulders relax briefly before he feels two fingers lightly tapping his shoulders, and he’s rigid again. 
Rigid until his eyes snap open to see that it’s you. You from the bookstore, with that same kind smile, same dazzling smile, it is you. You’re yelling over the shouting, but he can barely hear you. You laugh. He can only tell by your facial expression as all the sound falls deaf to his ears over the crowd's yelling. 
Once it calms down, you repeat yourself, “Are you alright?” 
He nods, then you’re giving him a skeptical look, and he slowly shakes his head. 
“Is it the noise?” 
A part of him wants to tell you that it’s everything he is experiencing today, but instead, he whispers a soft “Yes.” 
You twist your lips to the side, looking upset for him. Your empathy is so sweet and pure for him that he feels the knot in his chest unraveling slowly. “Let me buy you a water?” You offer, motioning to a concession stand a few steps away. 
He doesn’t remember saying yes, but you’re grinning as you walk with him to the stand and buy the two of you a bottle. After a sip or two, you say, “I’m not the biggest fan of football games either. My dad loves em’.”
He nods along silently, feeling so socially overwhelmed that he barely has the energy for more conversation. You seem happy to fill the gap: “I ran into you at that bookstore on 8th, right?” 
Spencer’s beaming as he pulls the bottle away from his lips, nodding, speaking for the first time in a while. “Yes.” 
You let out a happy hum, “Small world,” And Spencer agrees with you silently. 
It's the most comfortable he’s felt all week, and he wonders if maybe this failed date of his was a strange blessing in disguise. He’s about to ask for your name when Penelope approaches the two of you, blinking starstruck at Spencer and you as she introduces herself when the crowd begins to cheer again. Any noise he can hear is drowned out, frowning as you shake Penelope’s hand and say your name– a name he cannot hear. Some more words follow, but it's all small talk until you excuse yourself to return to your father in the stands. 
Then he’s the one being dragged away from you, convinced once more that he’ll never see his pretty stranger ever again. 
Third Meeting
It’s the night before Halloween. Ask anyone who knows Spencer; they will tell you he genuinely loves Halloween. It’s a part of him, always has been. He likes that you can dress up as anyone you want to be without judgment. He loves the build-up, the history, and the scents that fill the air. 
So, when he manages to get the night off, he’s quick to try and convince someone from the team to head over to a cemetery not too far from headquarters. Even when he explains how it is for a classic horror movie showing on the graveyard’s lands, everyone declines. 
Now, he’s setting up an oversized quilt on the soft grass, smoothing out the edges of the oversized quilt with his hands before sitting down on it. His hands move to his bag, pulling out a few of his favorite snacks, drinks, and so on as he watches the cemetery slowly fill up with people. 
He’s happy. He feels a little strange at the thought, but he’s happy– even if it is in the middle of a cemetery. 
A gentle voice cuts through the soft quiet of the graveyard, “I knew I was going to run into you sooner or later,” 
He turns his head to look at you, picnic basket and blanket in hand. You smile down at him. He trips over himself as he stands, his cheeks flushing as you laugh at the sight. He rubs his suddenly sweating hands on his button-up as he reluctantly offers you his hand to shake, only to realize that you don’t have a hand available. 
“Can I—” he says softly, “Would it be alright if I—" he swallows hard, his voice cracking lightly. Do you need help with your things?” 
You glance down at your hands, smiling slightly as you shake your head politely. “I’m sure I can find a good spot soon. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” 
“You’re not, honest. I’m, uh, I’m here alone, and it doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes.” You silently debate his offer, and then Spencer feels a wave of confidence surge through him, “You can always sit with me if you’d like. I promise I’ll try to be quiet.” 
You seem to think that’s funny as you nod, “Well, it is a silent film.” 
“You don’t have to say yes. I just have a big blanket, and I’m in a good spot to see the screen and–”
“I’ll sit with you,” You cut him off softly, bending down to gently get the picnic basket on the edge of his quilt. Spencer moves out of your way, awkwardly shuffling for a second before he decides this might be a good time to introduce himself. 
“I’m Spencer.” 
You glance up at him as you move to sit on the blanket, smiling as you tell him your name. He licks his lips nervously, nodding as he sits beside you. His nervous eyes dance over your figure as you set your blanket, which he now sees has little cartoon ghosts all over it, to the side of your basket. 
You’re frowning slightly as you reach into the basket, pulling out a small cup of jello and a spoon. “I’m sorry. If I had known I was sharing a blanket with someone, I would have brought another cup.” 
Spencer finds it funny as he leans over to his satchel and pulls out his own cup of jello and spoon, “No need,” 
You laugh lightly as you raise your jello cup to his. “Cheers, then. " Spencer smiles lightly as the two of you tap the edges together for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence while eating jello. 
Spencer’s spoon digs into the jello, and he asks, “Is this your first time seeing Nosferatu ?”
You let out a soft hum as you pull your spoon out of your mouth and quickly nod, “Yes!” You say after swallowing, “What about you?” 
“Third.” 
“Didn’t remember it well enough the first two times?” 
He lets out a shy laugh at that— it feels strange for someone to be unaware of his eidetic memory, and he wonders how long that’ll last. “Not exactly. I guess just like Halloween.” 
“A man of good taste,” You quip back softly, taking a smiling bite of jello. 
Spencer laughs as his eyes watch your lips close around your spoon before he pulls them away to look into your eye, hoping you don’t notice as he stutters lightly. “That’s debatable.” 
You’re looking down at your half-eaten Jello cup. “I’m the judge here. I deem it a fact that you are a man of good taste. You’re wearing a cardigan. That’s how the judicial system works, don’t you know?” You look back at him with a smirk, and Spencer can’t help the chortle that escapes his throat. 
“That is not how the United States judicial system works, but thank you.” 
“Yeah, you look like someone who would know all the inner workings of the judicial system.” 
Spencer can feel his cheeks getting red at how your voice sounds—teasing and a little flirty. Oh my god, were you flirting with him? He’s sure he’s all smiles and red cheeks as he looks at you, changing the topic. “None of your friends wanted to come with you tonight?”
“No, not their scene. It’s okay, though. I’m making a new friend right now.” 
Spencer’s finishing off his Jello as he steals a glance at you again, stars in his eyes. “You don’t even know me.” 
“Sure I do. Your name is Spencer. You like jello, nonfiction, Halloween, and dressing like a teacher’s assistant.” 
Spencer doesn’t want to say you’re wrong, even though he knows you’re just being nice, but he doesn’t want to spend another week without seeing you. He wants to be your friend— he’ll be anything you want him to be. “Could I–” He licks his lips, eyes searching yours nervously. 
You watch him carefully, tilting your head to the side as you look into his brown eyes. The sun is gone now, but the rising moon is shining down on him. He seems so… gentle, like a deer in a quiet forest.  A part of you just wants to scoop him up and bring him home with you, as inappropriate as that is. 
“You wouldn’t have to– It’s alright if you say no. I was just thinking I could give you my number sometime, maybe.” He manages with a gentle huff of air. 
You nod a little, “Sometime, maybe.” You repeat with a slight grin forming on your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the projector starting to play the movie, and a hush falls over the cemetery’s lawn. 
Spencer’s voice is a little too loud as he rushes to say, “I mean, now. Would it be alright if I–” A shush cuts him off, and his back straightens quickly as he shuts his mouth. His eyes meet yours for a second before darting over to the projection. 
You’re watching him again, how he’s staring at the screen like his life depends on it. You scoot closer to him, grabbing your folded-up blanket in the process. Once you reach his side, you drape the folded blanket around his shoulders carefully before doing the same to your own. 
His fingers gingerly grab one of the blanket's edges, casting you an apologetic glance for a second as your pants graze against his. You seem unbothered as you lean toward him. “I would love your number after this, " you whisper, looking up into his doe-like eyes before turning your head to watch the film. 
He’s beaming now as he stares at you, and his chest tightens slightly when you lean close to him again. You’re so close he can smell your perfume, the scent tangling with the sweet smell of crisp fall air. “You like costume parties?” Your voice is barely audible. 
He signals that he does silently, his head moving up and down quickly. The sight makes you grin as you mouth a silent, ‘Perfect’ at him before your attention is fully pulled back to the movie. 
Spencer feels warm all over for the rest of the night, and three months from now, he’ll start to believe three is a lucky number as he picks you up for your third date with him and just how perfect everything feels when he kisses you. 
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mggrecord · 1 month ago
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mgg.01: lumps in my throat
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wc : 434 (very short!)
genre: fluff, comfort
a/n: for my new moot on twt:)
summary: you’re feeling like absolute shit today, and all you need is a lazy day with your boyfriend.
on a cool autumn night, gublerween approaching steadily, you sit on the sofa with your boyfriend, matthew, curled up next to each other like little foxes in the winter, wearing matching pumpkin sweaters. you had a lazy day together today, an evening filled with hot chocolate with marshmallows, pumpkin painting, and a hocus pocus movie marathon.
truth be told, you were absolutely going through it at the moment, some unspoken issues making your stomach churn and bombarding your mind. you desperately needed an escape, to get out of your head. good thing you had your matthew.
so, you sat together, your head rested back on his chest as you sat between his legs, leaning against him. his slender fingers gently raked through your hair, his other arm holding your waist tightly, bunching up your sweater slightly, the warmth of his palm was soothing and comforting against your stomach. he had noticed you were a bit off today, but he knew better than to pry. if you wanted to talk to him about it, you’d bring it up. however, offering to discuss it wouldn’t hurt.
“hey,” he murmured softly, leaning down to place his lips against your ear. “you okay? little off today.”
you furrowed your brows a little as he spoke softly into your ear, listening to his words. you nodded your head, sighing quietly, shoulders slumping a little. “‘m good, jus’- “ you huffed quietly, trying to verbalize your thoughts without oversharing.
“i just don’t feel too good today. i need a lazy day,” you decided on saying softly, tilting your head back to look up, your eyes meeting his understanding and warm gaze.
matthew nodded slowly, gently pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “that’s okay, darlin’. ‘s fine with me,” he muttered quietly. his hand gently rubbed your stomach as the two of you continued watching the movie, and he’d occasionally bring a snack to your lips to encourage you to eat.
a beat.
“‘m here for you, y’know,” he’d mutter quietly, absentmindedly.
and by god did that warm your heart. because he was always there. always. no matter how irritated, or sad, or anxious, or snappy you got. he was always there.
he’d lay faint kisses to your temples, or your earlobe, or your neck, or your shoulder, just to show that he was there, and that he understood, and he felt what you felt, even if it wasn’t verbalized.
the night continued like this, all soft kisses and gentle words as a quiet movie played, hands stroking your hair and murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, practically inseparable.
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aliteralsemicolon · 4 months ago
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Been seeing a lot about writing Spencer "accurately" online and idk where this wave of criticism is coming from, but I need every single one of you to be so fucking for real rn. Yapsesh below the cut.
Spencer Reid is a fictional character. Fiction means he's not real. He's a not real character from a not real universe. There's no "wrong" way to write a fictional character.
There is no canon guideline on how to write every part of him. Yes there are certain traits and characteristics we're shown, but people are complex. What we see the character do on screen isn't a complete representation of how they live every aspect their life.
Even the show runners couldn't get him "right" all the time, Hell, Mathew himself deviated from Spencer's canon traits sometimes. For example: his birthday, the fact that he's a germaphobe but you can still see him shake hands with characters when he normally wouldn't and there's SO many more if you just watch the show and pay attention.
Also there are things about Spencer that the fandom has deemed canon when they are not, in fact, canon. Like the converse: it's commonly believed that Spencer has a preference for wearing converse, which is wrong. That's a purely MGG thing. Spencer only wears converse in a few episodes through out the whole show. Most of the time he wears formal/work footwear, like loafers.
Now, there are definitely aspects you can't take away from a character in your writing because that's what makes the character who they primarily are. You'll notice that even in most alternate universe stories, Spencer still has the traits he's known for. IQ of 187, eidetic memory, socially awkward genius. That's literally how he was intended to come across during the initially seasons.
We only got new traits as the show progressed. Like how he's a sassy little shit who isn't scared of authority. The reason we can deviate from those is because they're not his core traits. His personality changes throughout the show. At times he appears like his same socially awkward self, but we also get to see his confident side with strangers at times.
It's literally impossible to label him a black and white character because there's so much we don't get to see. We don't get to see how he acts with love interests in every season (every season is a slightly different version from the last), we don't get to see how he acts when he's home alone, how he changes in so many aspects of his life. I think I'm just repeating myself now, but I think you get the point.
I find comfort in Spencer Reid's character, which is why I write about him. He acts however I want him to act in my writing because that's how I see him. Everyone has their own interpretation of the character. A lot of the interpretations share similarities with each other, so they're deemed as "the right way to write Spencer" by us, but that's not possible because there is no right way.
All this to say: Please stop criticising writers for how they write a character. You don't have to agree with their interpretation. There are other writers out there who you may agree with more. Engage more with them and disengage from the content you don't want to see.
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blackdollette · 8 months ago
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starting to write for mgg as well now!
"you wanna make the switch?" | spencer reid
in my feelings. - lana del rey
⊹₊⋆ synopsis: from a geeky genius to a drunk-eyed, sweaty mess...
fill out the taglist form!
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female!reader x sub!spencer
word count: 606
contents: blowjob, teasing, implied overstimulation, praise, drabble, not proofread!
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it was almost funny how quickly you could flip spencer’s switch.
you knew all the right buttons to press. the way your tongue slid up his rock-hard shaft, swirling itself around his tip before making its way down again. the bedroom echoed with the sharp hisses and deep groans from spencer, a contrast to all his wisecracking bullshit. your boyfriend bit his lip, suppressing all the moans and whimpers that threatened to break free. the torture had been going on for hours, the hypnotizing motions of your mouth putting him into a deep trance.
he tossed his head back as he exahled a shaky breath, his hand glued to the back of your head in a failed attempt to slow down your pace. you took his cock into you throat, inhaling through your nose to create suction as his chestnut-brown doe eyes gazed right back down at you. “c’mon, angel… i-ive been good, would it hurt to just let me…” he was cut off by a deep groan emerging from his throat as you took him all the way in once again, your uvula fluttering against his pulsating tip.
you would’ve smirked if your lips weren’t occupied. you pulled your mouth off of him, spitting on his tip and giving him a few lazy strokes. his body quaked from the stimulation. “i-i… b-baby, i dunno i-if i…” a smile tugged at your lips as you watched how he struggled to enunciate his words. you put on a fake pout, tilting you head to the side as you squeezed his cock even tighter, causing him to bite his lip to suppress all the lewd noises that threatened to break free. “what was that, spence? i didn’t catch that.” you batted your eyelashes all innocent-like, watching him crumble apart filling you with a sick thrill.
“i-i can’t take anymore..!” he was gripping the bedsheets until his shaky hands went white. seeing him struggle made burning heat pool in your core as you slowly touched yourself through your panties. “aw, why not, baby? you’ve been doing so good for me all night…” you sat up from in between his legs, crawling onto his lap and bringing your lips to his ear, your warm breath hitting him right in the canal. “i know you can cum a few more times for me, right?” the base of your hand slapped against his balls, your thumb ghosting the tip each time your hand came back up.
beads of sweat glistened on spencer’s forehead, cheeks flushed with a soft shade of pink. you could tell it was taking every cell in his body to keep himself together. your spoke once more, your voice laced with a touch more authority. “you can take it, baby. i know you can.” he swallowed hard, biting the inside of his cheek as he nodded, wanting nothing else but to please you in this moment.
you spread your legs onto either side of him, tracing his tip along your clothed slit as he looked up at you, lip quivering as if they were begging for a taste of your soft lips. you pouted again as his hips began to buck into your fist. “you’re such a pretty boy, y’know that..?” his teary eyes lit up ever so slightly at the praise in your voice. 
his tip bubbled with thick precum as his chest rose and fell with each breath. he held back the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes as he took a deep, shaky breath, resting his chin in your cleavage. you nodded in approval, a smile lighting up your face as you kissed him tenderly on the forehead. 
“that’s my boy…”
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author's note: i am not ditching the rory community! just wanted to see how writing for an ew character would go :)) please leave comments and let me know what yall think! (lmk if this was shitty)
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