#Criminal Minds Fanfiction

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[lostingubler]

oh she loves him so much

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #spencer reid #mgg pics #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #mgg x reader #criminal minds fanfic #doctor spencer reid #diana reid #matthew gray gubler #reid

[moonstruckme]

I know nothing about spencer actually, since I never watch his series. But I read on one of your fics that spencer is germphobia?

Could I request one where spencer gets home after a case for a week and found reader sick in the bathroom?, and she's kinda locked herself since she knows spencer germphobia?

You know that kind of fever where you sweat and throw up nonstop

It's been so long after you write spencer. I miss your spencer a lottttttt TnT

Thank you for requesting! I’m not totally sure if Spencer is canonically confirmed germophobic but he’s definitely sensitive to germs, so we’ll roll with that :) 

cw: nausea, vomiting

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 832 words

You’re not at your best, shaky and sweaty, but when you hear the front door open you move quick as a flash. 

“Hello?” Spencer’s call echoes through the apartment. 

“Hi,” you say back, quieter than you intend. Still, he finds you easily, and you’re glad you reacted fast when the handle on the bathroom door jiggles. “What are you doing here?” 

Spencer’s taken to staying at your place, but when he’d called you from the jet to tell you his case was over you’d said to go back to his apartment. With what he knows about how sick you’ve been the last couple of days, you thought he’d listen. 

“You shouldn’t be by yourself,” he answers simply. He doesn’t try the handle again, but his voice sounds just on the other side of the door. “Are you okay?” 

“I’ve been better,” you admit, breathing through another wave of nausea, “but I’ll be fine. You should go home.” 

“I am home. Open the door.” 

“Spence,” you sigh. The tips of your fingers are cool against your temples, and you press them in to quell the uneasy feeling that comes with having your brain so muddled. “You don’t want to come in here.” 

“Why can’t I decide that?” There’s an odd scraping sound on the other side of the door. 

“Because you’re too nice. I know how you feel about germs.” The mutinous acid vat of your stomach revolts again, and you cough a couple of times, swallowing forcefully. 

“I’m just as likely to get sick from pressing an elevator button,” Spencer insists gently. “Seriously, let me in.” 

“Go home,” you plead. 

“I’m coming in.” 

You sigh, bending to lean your head against the cool porcelain of your tub. “What, are you going to kick the door in?” He’s told you about his coworker Morgan doing that, but you don’t think of your scrawny (though you love him for it) boyfriend as capable of such measures. 

“Not quite.” Another scraping sound, and you sit up as your bathroom door tips outward. Spencer catches it before it can fall, easing it down onto the floor before stepping over it. He’s taken the whole thing off its hinges. 

“Show off,” you say tiredly, too spent to do anything about it as he walks over to you. 

“Yeah, well,” Spencer lifts some flyaway baby hairs off your neck, cool knuckles pressing to the hot skin, “I didn’t want to damage your door. You didn’t tell me your fever was this bad.” 

“I told you I was sick.” 

“I feel like ‘sick’ is more or less ambiguous,” he says, not unkindly. His touch moves to your face, long, slender fingers laying down across your forehead. “How high is it?” 

“Dunno.” You swallow thickly. “Haven’t checked. Are you okay?” 

“I touched a dead body yesterday; so long as I shower after this I’ll be fine. How have you not checked?” 

“I can’t—find—” You cough as bile rises in your throat, bending over the toilet “—the—” 

“Okay, it’s okay.” Spencer rubs your back. Your coughing turns into retching. “I got it. I’ll look for the thermometer soon, okay?” 

You nod, tears pressing at your eyes as you dry heave. The muscles in your throat and abdomen spasm painfully. 

Spencer makes a sorry sound, his hand coasting up and down the ridges of your spine. “You haven’t been eating anything, have you?” It’s not really a question. “We need to get something in your system. You know that ‘starve a fever’ saying is an old wives’ tale, right?”

He sits with you until the fit abates, then stands and leaves the room. You hear cabinet doors opening and shutting, and before long he’s got a wet rag cooling the back of your neck, you’re sipping water out of a straw, and he’s sticking your previously missing thermometer in your ear. 

“I’ll probably have to go soon if I want to get to the store before it closes,” he’s saying quietly, free hand settled comfortably north of your knee. You’re trying really hard not to breathe in his face. “It’d be good to have some cheerios or something for you to eat, and something with electrolytes.” 

The thermometer beeps, and he pulls it close to read the screen, a frown pursing his pretty lips. 

“Are you sure you want to stay?” you ask, though at this point you really want him to as well. “I don’t want to freak you out.” 

Spencer sets the thermometer aside. “You’re not freaking me out,” he says, hands gentle as he takes the rag from your neck and folds it onto a new side before putting it back. You almost sigh. “The worst thing that can happen is I get sick, and” —he meets your eyes, mouth tipping upward as he shrugs— “if that happens, it can’t be helped. But if I went back to my apartment, and I was fine there but you were still sick here by yourself, well, what’s the point in that?” 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #tw vomit #tw nausea

[golden1u5t]

next time just ask | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: you’ve had an attitude with spencer all day long, he finds the one thing that’ll make it go away

spencer had a brutal pace going, using such force you didn't think he had in him. his hands gripped your thighs as he held your legs over his shoulders, his hips crashed into the back of your thighs and caused an obscene clapping noise to fill the room.

you chanted his name like it was a mantra as your walls clamped down on his cock, your back arching up off the bed as you got closer to your release. your mind had went completely blank since he started fucking you, the attitude you once had was completely gone.

"this is all you wanted, huh? just wanted me to touch you." spencer leaned over your body, your legs still over his shoulders, and tucked his head in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping at the flushed skin. his hips struggled to keep up the pace he had set before as he got closer to his own orgasm. "all you had to do was ask, pretty. you know i'll give you whatever you want."

"yes!" you gasped, the sound of both of your moans seemed to get louder with every passing second, drowning out the sound of his cock moving against your slick walls. your hand found its way into spencer hair as your orgasm crashed over you, you tugged at it all the way through.

spencer's head dropped down onto your shoulder as his head started to spin, he pressed himself as deep into you as he could as he started to cum. you let go of his hair as he let out a breath and sat up, letting your legs fall down off of his shoulders. he pressed a kiss to your lips before he pulled out.

"next time, baby, just ask instead of getting upset."

#golden1u5t #myrarants #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #dom spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom #spencerreid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

[bellasprettywords]

A different way to say I love you (Spencer Reid x Reader)

As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person

My masterlist

Warnings: Little mentions of alcohol and overall fluff

Word count: 1,037 (ish because there are emojis)

y/n – your name

Gender-neutral reader

The first time Spencer Reid told you he loved you, he didn’t do it with words…

It was Penelope’s birthday and the whole gang went out clubbing. You were a little more drunk than you normally would’ve liked considering you were out with your bosses, and your best friend who at the same time was the man you loved: Spencer Reid. Spencer was on y/n watch duty, considering he has always been protective of you, that he didn’t drink much, and that public settings like clubs made him on edge.

“We should get going, sweetie” you heard Spencer whisper in your ear

“I don’t wanna go yeeeet, I feel like daaancing” you said standing from the barstool and pulling Spencer’s arm into the dancefloor

“Woah woah, I’m not much of a dancer” he said nervously

“Just relax, let me lead you” you said as you placed his hands on your waist and danced wrapped around the arms of the man you loved from a distance. After a couple of hours, you were beat, so finally agreed to Spencer’s suggestion and accepted to share a cab with your best friend.

The two of you were in the back of the taxi, your head leaning on your best friend’s shoulder and you could perfectly smell the intoxication scent of wood, musk, and a little of alcohol that more than one person had spilled over Spencer at the club. You were holding hands, which wasn’t weird, as you pretty much had gotten Spence used to physical touch, and since he had become comfortable with it, the two of you were always touching some part of each other

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asked, tilting his head so he could get a better looked at you

“Yeah, I’m just a little tired” you said giving Spencer a small smile, there was something conforming about being there, next to each other, just softly caressing each other, without saying anything. At that moment, you felt Spencer squeezing your hand softly three times.

Spencer helped you up to your apartment, you were still tipsy from the night out, and he wanted to make sure you got safely to bed. Stumbling, Spencer opened the door of your apartment, and helped you in

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetie” Spencer said chucking at the sight of you walking through your furniture, trying not to stumble

“Thank you for taking such good care of me” you said, gifting Spencer a lazy smile

“Come on, we have to tuck you in” Spencer said leading you into your room, the same room he had been at least a thousand times, at the end of the day, being your best friend meant constantly coming over

“Wait, I have to get on my jammies” you said pulling away from Spencer

“Alright, I’m going to leave you for a while, so you can get changed” he said, leaving your room, closing the door behind him, and feeling his cheeks getting red and hot at the thought of you changing.

You were taking off your pants, when you stumbled and fell to the side of your bed; and with the sound of the stumble, Reid entered your room swiftly, helping you up

“Are you okay?” Spencer looked concerned, scanning your body trying to make sure you were alright after the stumble

“I’m fine, you shouldn’t worry too much, mighty Doctor Reid” you said, burying your face into Spencer’s neck and chuckling at the situation. Spencer was now sitting on your bed, with your pantless body plastered over his, at this moment, you were just inches from his lips, and you could feel his eyes, scanning your face, and body

“Come on, let me help you get changed” Spencer said gulping loudly, feeling his cheeks burning up

“Fine, you can help me, but no peaking” you said and both of you shared a laugh, as Spencer helped you get into your pjs

“I’m going to head out” Spencer said standing next to the door frame of your bedroom

“Don’t leave just yet, lay down with me for a little while” you pleaded Spencer making room on your bed for him

“I’ll stay, but only for a little while, I have to get back home” he said, taking off his shoes and getting into bed with you. You could feel Spencer’s arms around you, caressing you and making you feel safe

“Can I ask you something?” you said, turning to him so you could face him

“Of course, anything for you” he replied fixing a strand of your hair

“Why do you squeeze my hand three times? It’s not the first time I feel you doing it” you asked, and you felt Spencer’s hand reach to you

“It means: I. Love. You” Spencer said, squeezing your hand one time per word

“In that case: I. Love. You. Too” you replied, squeezing Spencer’s hand four times

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Life was great for Doctor Spencer Reid lately, his social abilities had increased, you were finally a couple after quite a while of pining over each other, and he was finally feeling like he fit in somewhere. Nonetheless, anxiety was an immense part of Spencer Reid’s life. Especially because working at the BAU, his genius mind would constantly speed, and sometimes, without even realizing it, he would spiral into horrific scenarios. Sure,

You were on a briefing. JJ and Hotch were explaining the details of the new case you’d work on, and you could tell something was off with Spencer. When cases involved children, he’d get overly anxious, and as you were holding hands, you could feel his palms getting sweatier and sweatier. You didn’t want to give away the fact that Spencer was struggling with coping as the case was being revising, so you did the one thing you knew would make him feel better:

You squeezed his hand three times; and when you felt him squeezing your hand four times in return, you searched for Spencer’s eyes, and once you found them, you gave him a reassuring smile, just to let him know everything would be okay.

The meeting ended and Spencer and you left the room together, to prepare your bags as Hotch called wheels on 30 minutes. Spencer and you were picking your stuff from your adjacent desks when you heard him saying:

“I always hoped I would be lucky enough to find someone who I could say “I love you”, even when words are too much”

"I love you too, Spence" you said, placing a soft kiss on your boyfriend's lips before departing

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fandom #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fandom

[pathologicalreid]

don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #written by margot #mdni #margot after hours #softdom!spencer #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst

[snixkers]

Daughters Love Jell-O Too

(GIF credits to @incognit0slut)

Pairing: Dad!Spencer Reid × Reader

Fluff

For: Anonymous

Content Warnings: None

Summary: Your daughter inherits her dad's sweet tooth and your charm.

Author's Note: Getting back to posting regularly! Very exciting!!!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

It was a silent afternoon. Your usually hyper daughter wasn’t bouncing off the walls. There was finally a moment of peace, and nothing was out of place.

You and your husband were terrified.

“Jenna, what are you up to?”

Neither of you was truly worried. She was somewhere in the house, plotting something that would no doubt require hours of cleaning or a call to the landlord. If she managed to escape, an elite FBI unit was ready to find her.

She peeked her head out of her room, waving. "Playing with my dinos."

You nodded, relieved she found something that wasn't going to cause lasting damage.

"Put them away for now, okay? It's lunchtime."

She clambered out of her room, hopping down the stairs and stopping next to your husband in the kitchen.

“Jell-O.”

You sighed. When Spencer was in the hospital, she had seen him eating a container. After a bite, she was hooked.

“Jell-O is a dessert food. It’s lunchtime.”

She sighed dramatically and put on a pout that rivaled your own.

“Daddy, please?”

He made eye contact with you, trying to hide how effective her tactics were. Her demands would be endless if she knew he was wrapped around her finger.

You gave him a look, but then she turned to you, and you realized you were just as gullible.

“Fine, but only today.”

She clapped her hands together, wrapping her arms around his leg. He smiled, reaching down to smooth out a stray hair.

“Since she’s getting Jell-O, I’ll get some as well.”

You shot him a look, unable to stay mad as he offered you a spoonful.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reqs open #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid #snixkers #jello

[mandarinmoons]

A/N: Hello! I just recently hit 500 followers and I wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and interact with my works! I never thought that I'd make it this far and it truly means the world. Thank you so much again x

Spencer's face was hidden in your neck, his arms snaked around you and his hold on you grew tighter as you continued to brush your fingers through his hair. 

He had just got back from a long case and the sleeping arrangements this time around were not the best. The hotel the team stayed at was near a busy highway and it was known to have a lot of traffic jams. Over the course of the four nights spent in the hotel, Spencer woke up nearly every night to restless drivers honking the horns in their cars, trying to get the people in front of them to move, because maybe that would get them home sooner.

Spencer felt as though he was going to go mad. The second he got on the jet back home his eyes fell shut and slept through the whole flight. He awoke to Derek shaking his shoulder and smiling down at him, not knowing that the whole team had heard him mumbling your name in his sleep. You were his teddy bear and he desperately needed you in his arms for a good night’s sleep.

Now here he was, bliss written all over his face, his nose rubbing against your neck as his thumbs rubbed over your side.

“You didn’t get a whole lot of sleep, huh?”

“Don’t get me started,” Spencer mumbled and pressed his lips against your neck.

The comfort he found in you was evident. As good of a profiler he is, he had no clue that in his sleep when he was away from you, he’d pull a pillow into his chest and rest his lips against it and caressed it with his fingers, the same actions he was doing to you right now.

Soon enough Spencer was lightly snoring in your embrace, but his grip stayed as strong as it was before, if not stronger. Knowing that he was finally at rest you, let your eyes close as well and let yourself be transported into a world of dreams, one which was still filled with you and Spencer.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid x gn! reader #spencer reid au #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[apheleion]

you accidentally call hotch aaron for the first time. tags: gn!bau!reader, fluff, swearing send in hotch requests!

Hesitantly, you knock on the door to Hotch’s offices. You wouldn’t normally do this, but after the last case, he’s seemed… a little off.

“Come in,” he calls out. You swing the door open and walk in, stopping right in front of his desk and shuffling on your feet. He frowns. “Is everything okay?”

You nod. “Yeah, no! Everything’s fine. I was just… well, I noticed that after our last case, you were acting strange, so I just wanted to see if you’re okay…” Hotch only stares at you, and your face burns. “You know what, never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you, Aaron—”

You freeze, eyes blowing wide. Shit.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Hotch, I didn’t mean—”

“Whoa, hey, slow down,” he says softly. “Why are you sorry?”

Your gaze drops to the ground at your feet. “Well, one, for bothering you, and two—”

“I never said you were bothering me,” Hotch tells you, the corners of his lips quirking up slightly. “What made you think that?” For a moment you’re speechless, mouth opening and closing as you try to think of something to say. “And thank you for checking up on me. I’m okay.”

You let out a deep breath. “You’re sure?” you ask softly.

Hotch nods. “I’m sure.”

“Good,” you nod, offering a small smile.

You turn to leave, and just as you’re about to walk out the door, Hotch calls out to you. “You can call me Aaron, by the way. Just thought I would let you know.”

You can’t help but grin, your heart swooping. “I’ll try to remember that… Aaron.”

#kate writes #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #hotchner x reader #hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch fic #hotch #hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotchner x you #hotchner #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fic #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fanfiction

[railingsofsorrow]

we'll be alright

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 2.4K

warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.

A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“what are you doing?”

“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”

you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.

“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”

“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”

“have you told him?”

“no.”

her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.

“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.

seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.

“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”

you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.

“thanks, jayge,” you say.

jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.

“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.

“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.

he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.

you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”

“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.

“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”

“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”

you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”

“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”

a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.

“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”

“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.

“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”

your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.

you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.

“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.

“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.

“you said I can't.”

“you're correcting my misspellings now?”

spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.

“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.

he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.

“are you okay?”

silence. and then,

“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.

“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”

“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”

“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”

you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”

“and I don't believe you.”

somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.

“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.

spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.

“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”

“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”

“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.

“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.

“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”

“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?

spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.

he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.

he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.

it's actually the opposite.

“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.

“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”

letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”

he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”

“are you mad?”

he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”

you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”

spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”

your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.

“what?” he nudges your nose with his.

“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.

“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”

you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.

spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj

#reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

[discotitsposts]

soft smells

spencer reid x reader who loves cooking and baking cooking and baking with spencer.

fluff! rated e for everyone!

i keep seeing cooking and baking inspo on pinterest 😫

this is the recipe for bruschetta i used.

(i wanna be his housewife so bad it’s insane)

You hear the front door open as you’re taking the tray out of the oven. You’re so excited for Spencer to try your latest creation, you’re not paying attention to your hands and accidentally touch the super hot tray.

“Ow!” You scream. Spencer runs in and sees you cradling your palm.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” He asks, concerned.

“I accidentally burned my hand.” You hiss at the searing pain. You reach for the freezer to ice your burn.

Spencer stops you, “Wait! Don’t ice it! Ice is the worst thing for a burn!”

Spencer makes you sit at the dining table. He grabs a few things from the medicine cabinet as you watch.

He takes a leaf from your aloe vera plant, and cuts the leaf open. He takes some of the gel from the leaf and rubs it gently on your burn.

You wince at the sensation.

He notices and says, “Trust me it will help.”

“I know.” You manage a smile.

He bandages up your palm and kisses it.

“Alright get more of those every hour.” He says smiling.

“More aloe?” You ask, confused by what he means.

“No, the kisses.” He hands you some medicine to help with the pain. You take it and go back to making your bruschetta.

You pick up the bowl you’d premade with the mixture of extra virgin olive oil, garlic, oregano , basil, onions, salt and pepper. Meanwhile, Spencer transfers the bread onto a cooling rack for you.

You brush the mixture onto the bread slices. It smells divine. Then you add the chopped tomatoes. It envelops Spencer’s nostrils and makes his stomach grow hungrier. He tries to steal a slice when you’re not looking.

“It’s still hot Spence. Unless you want your tongue to look like my hand I would put that back.” He sighs and puts the slice back.

You sprinkle basil on the bruschetta and tell Spencer to wait in the living room. He obeys silently. Stomach growling louder by the second.

In the living room, the soft smell of toasted bread and cheese fills his senses yet again. You’d added mozzarella on top and bring it into the living room some time later.

“Cooled off?” He confirms.

“Yes, try some.” He takes the biggest piece and takes a bite. He moans happily when the taste hits his tongue.

“Oh wow!” Is all he can say.

“Delicious. Nothing better.” You say wiping a crumb off your mouth. You look at Spencer whose face is covered in crumbs. His mouth is full. This is one of the funniest things in the world and you laugh.

He tries to say ‘something on my face?’ but all that comes out is,

“Thomeing o ma ace?”

“Yes!” You laugh so hard you can’t breathe and tears fill your eyes.

After he swallows, he kisses you.

“We should make food together more often.”

“As long as you don’t eat it all before it’s done.” You tease.

“As long as you don’t burn your hand first.” He fires back jokingly.

“Oh yeah? What should we make next?”

“Cake!” His eyes light up.

You giddily run with him to the kitchen to go make a cake. You make a strawberry cake together and Spencer decorated it with pink icing and white icing flowers. You slice up some fresh strawberries and add them on top.

It was the best cake Spencer had ever eaten. Even more so, since it was made with love.

-

the end

-

tags🍓-

(if you would like to be tagged in all future works you can let me know by commenting a 🍓!)

@whoisspence

@lemonadeinfuser

@fictionalobssed

@exoticisles

@in-another-april

@gallifreyan-idiocracy

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #matthewgraygubler #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

[qlossytbh]

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 You and Spencer start learning what it’s like to live together as the chase for the killer continues.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 mentions of overthinking (lots of it), mention of absent parents, mentions of scream 6 (no spoilers tho), unpopular scream 6 opinions, too much fluff tbh, nightmares, mentions of sleep paralysis

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i’m literally so sorry for this being so behind schedule, im so stumped with college and shit but here it is!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You remember going home that night and thinking a lot— maybe too much, if you were being frank.

A lot was still on your mind. Between the case, and the whole murderer that was killing old acquaintance's—you also had a husband now apparently.

Two days had passed and the case was still at works. Spencer lived in an apartment complex, which wasn't favorable for the goal of the mission. You however, lived in a nice suburban house your parents left you as a 'sorry for being absent' gift. Very close to where you used to go to school, which was crucial. It was perfectly comfortable— a little too big for you to be living there by yourself, which left space for you to feel a little lonely many times— but spacious nonetheless.

So with that, and lots of discussion, it was decided that Spencer would accommodate himself at your house, to make the whole marriage part, well— believable.

Cameras had been installed all across the outside of your house, ensuring there'd be vigilance throughout the days to come. Hotch made it incredibly clear, that you and Spencer's safety was top priority, so taking precaution wasn't something that the team was going to take lightly. Hotch had previously sat you and Spencer down, just to make sure you knew what you were getting into, the basic guidelines you'd have to follow and so on.

You and Spencer didn't speak much as the plan progressed during the following days and you didn't know why. You knew that you had been busy with your own things and he had been busy with his own, but it still filled you with dread. You were dwelling wether or wether not he was truly comfortable with the whole 'fake married couple' and not having time to sit down and actually talk to him about this whole thing was messing with your head.

'Just keep an eye out for anything suspicious and try to act like a married couple—'

'As if that was so hard for them.'

That's what Hotch had told you and what Morgan decided to pipe in, causing you to nearly toss the book you had with you at him. Was it normal that you had been dwelling on what Morgan had said relentlessly since then?

You didn't fully understand why the whole concept filled you with an unexplainable unsteadiness. It felt similar to anxiety but it wasn't as dreadful. It felt like something was lingering across the tip of your tongue, begin to be released, but your brain couldn't actually process any of it.

Spencer had been taking this whole situation just as lightly as you were— which wasn't at all light. His mind running impossibly faster than usual, and thoughts forcing themselves in and out of his head. A few of his things had already been moved into your house, such as spare clothing among other stuff.

Tonight, however, you're mind was silent for the first time in these past two days. You sat on your couch, digging your back into the softness of its pillows, dressed with a fluffy pair of pajama pants and a white t-shirt that fell over your body comfortably. You had a box of ramen in your hands, and Spencer sat just a little further from you on the opposite side of the couch, also in his pajamas.

The two of you had been taken completely off guard, seeing the other in something so 'casual'. Sure, you had been best friends for a while, but somehow you had never seen each other in anything other than your work attire. Seeing him in nothing but a plain grey T-shirt and plaid pants felt almost intimate.

He held his box of ramen in one hand and a fork in the other, reminding you of his inability to ever learn how to use chopsticks, despite your attempts at teaching him.

You tugged closer at the blanket you were wrapped in and said with a mouth full of noodles."Easily the best scream movie since the original."

"In every way is it better than all the sequels. The opening scene is brilliant and the way they did it was so scary and intense—" You beamed, enthusiasm radiating off your every word as the end credits to Scream 6 began rolling.

One of you and Spencers preferred past-times was watching any movie, franchise or series you could get your hands on and either rip the movie to shreds or praise it as if it were a god given gift. You just finished watching the last Scream movie and funny enough, you both were disagreeing on the cinematographic decisions.

Spencer rolled his eyes, jabbing his fork into the nearly empty box of noodles. "Please, even after the last time I saw this I still think the this is one of the slowest pacing films known to man."

"You could actually tell this was the longest movies in the franchise," He shrugged. Your jaw slacked as an annoyed groan left your lips.

"Spencer, it is not slow-paced— are you kidding me?" He deadpanned at you, clearly disagreeing with your opinion. "Everything was timed perfectly! I mean, the kills were brutal but even so, they felt realistic and made me believe that those things could actually happen."

"They do actually happen," He said, reminding you of the reality of your job. Your lips pursed in thought, realizing he had a point as you looked over at the TV screen.

"Touché,”

You poked at your box silently. You didn't usually mind silences, much less with Spencer, but right now you were realizing that a somewhat tense silence had dwelled upon you two. You felt your nerves begin to bundle up and you caught yourself opening your mouth to speak.

"So uh—" One more poke at the bottom of the carton box. "I talked to Claire today,"

"Hmm? What'd she say?" Spencer's gaze and entire attention was on you in the matter of seconds and it made you weirdly nervous to speak.

"Well," You reached over, setting the now empty box onto the table. You leaned back into the couch, looking over at him as he copied your movements effortlessly. "She was telling me how she was planning on throwing a ten year reunion, but with everything going on, she cancelled it."

“Claire always took matters of those stupid school events into her own hands, but she didn’t know how tone deaf it was of her to throw it ever with everything that’s going on,”

Your speaking started off as a nervous ramble, attempting to fill the silence, but you soon found yourself easing into the nature of the conversation. Spencer listening attentively, shifting his weight to the side every once in a while.

"I told her that she should go ahead with it anyways. Gave her a hell of a list of pros and somehow she agreed to look into the possibility of organizing it,"

You recalled your conversation with Claire easily. When the option for a high school reunion was up, you remembered the reality of your mission with Spencer, and knew it was the perfect way of getting you and him on whoever was attacking radar. She asked why you were so enthusiastic about wanting to throw together the reunion, given how you weren't present at the one year reunion— or the five year.

"She was kind of apprehensive, which I don't blame her," You laughed at yourself and laid your head on the back of your couch, looking up at the ceiling. "I— uhm, told her it was because I wanted to officially introduce you as my husband and she got all, excited,"

You felt yourself growing nervous as you looked over at Spencer. "Excited?"

There was a teasing glint in his voice as he narrowed his eyes at you. He also laid his head on the back of your couch, still gazing over at you. It made your stomach weirdly twist and suddenly you felt your cheeks hot to the touch. You smiled and narrowed your eyes as well.

"Yes, excited," You looked down at your lap. You were getting to that point where you weren't thinking straight and your lips moved along as if they had a mind of their own. “She said she knew it all long and you know the typical 'called it' which everyone seems to love saying lately,"

“Saying what?” You looked back up at Spencer and silence dwelled upon you two. You shrugged and opened your mouth to speak, but was shocked when nothing came out. Both of your growing smiles began to falter as he tilted his head back just slightly, watching you intently. You knew something was lingering in his head— finding out what was the hard part.

"—It's uhm," You sucked in a deep breath and sat up quickly. "I'm gonna—"

You wordlessly dusted off your pants, tumbling slightly on your feet. You grabbed both now empty ramen boxes and waltzed over to your kitchen.

"Need help?" Spencer shot from over the couch, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen behind you.

"It's fine Spence," You cleared your throat, throwing both boxes into the trash and the fork into the sink. You turned, seeing Spencer now leaning against the fridge with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Your eyes felt droopy, which meant it probably was late, and the two of you did have work tomorrow. Somehow knowing it was late impulsed your body to let out an involuntary yawn. Spencer smiled at you.

"I left a few extra blankets on the edge of my bed cause I know it gets cold—" You started. Spencer pushed himself off of the fridge and looked at you quizzically.

"What?" He asked. You stopped as you noticed his severely puzzled expression, looking at him and furrowing your brows.

You explained once again, completely lost as to what the problem was. “Blankets..? You know those things you use for—"

"You're expecting me to sleep in your bed?"

You blinked. "I changed the sheets before you got here if it's the whole germ shit your worried about,"

"What? No, it's not—" He said before shaking his head. "We're at your house, I'm supposed to sleep on the couch."

Of course. You hadn't thought about the fact that Spencer was going to be severely against you staying on the couch. In various situations he had put all of his comforts out of the way for you, so of course he wasn't going to let you sleep on the couch.

"Do not fight me on this because I swear," You pointed a warning finger towards him, taking a step near him. "My couch is amazing, if you couldn't already tell. I've got the TV as well, which I do not have in my room,"

He rolled his eyes at the amusement in your voice. But shook his head firmly. "You take the room, I'll take the couch—"

"Spencer!" You groaned, throwing your head back. You reached out and grabbed his wrists with both of your hands, looking up at him firmly. "Please,"

His lips pressed into a tight line, eyes finding yours as he looked down, seeing your lips tightly dressed with a firm pout as you attempted to give him your best puppy eyes.

"If you sleep on the couch that means I set up the whole light projector thingy for nothing," His head tilted.

"What?" He laughed at you, fully with endearment.

"I got you this stupid little galaxy projector thing off of Ebay, so the room wouldn't be pitch black."

Spencer stopped and looked down at you. He could practically heard his heart explode inside his chest, which was the best way of describing whatever it is he felt whenever you did stuff like it this. Stuff that showed that you cared, that you listened and payed attention.

When he suddenly looked away from you, incredibly close to caving, you tugged his wrist closer. "Please?"

He sighed, looking down at you. "Fine,"

It was imposible for Spencer to say no to you. It always has been. Wether it was something as stupid as stopping by a gas station on the way home from work to get your favorite snack or for him to give you some company while you visited the offices printer, he always found himself surrendering to your pleading look.

"I promise it's comfortable," You reassured, noticing how he was still apprehensive of letting you sleep on the couch in your own house. He sighed once again, but this time tugging you slightly by the arm into him. He wrapped his arms around you as your arms mindlessly wrapped around his torso. He buried his face into your neck and let out a gush of air he couldn't tell he was holding as his body relaxed under your touch.

With everything going on, the two of you had forgotten just how peaceful it was to be around one another. You had to remind yourself that the two of you were in this together, as much as you believed it was something you were handling alone.

"We're okay right?" He asked, realeasing you from his grip to look down at you. You pulled away, finding the same worry you had been feeling these past few days flooding his eyes.

"Yeah Spence," You gave him a small smile and a reassuring squeeze. He hugged you once more, trying to hold onto the feeling as you rubbed his back.

"We should probably head to sleep—" You said, pulling away from him as he hesitantly let you go, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah," He nodded looking down at you one last time.

It all happened in the matter of seconds, and having been woken up so suddenly, you didn't fully grasp what was going on.

It started with a scream. The sound caused you to shoot up from your position in on the couch, still groggy with sleep. The second scream that came made your blood run cold as you realized the scream belonged to none other than Spencer.

Anxiety immediately clawed your throat and you truly felt like you couldnt breathe. You threw the blanket off of yourself and shot up from the couch. You held your breath while your body unconsciously dragged you towards your room in a panicked frenzy.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay

You still weren't processing anything that was going on when you pushed the door open fully expecting yourself to find the worst.

It took you a second that no one had broken in like you had thought. Spencer was unharmed but slashing back and forward in his sleep.

He's having a nightmare

You rushed over to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed and gripping his shoulder as you tried to get him to wake up.

"Spencer!" You shook his shoulder as he groaned and mumbled inaudibly in his sleep. With one final firm shake at his shoulder, his eyes shot open.

He sat up in a rush, desperately looking over the lightly lit room while his chest heaved up and down madly. His skin felt hot at the touch and his hair was all over the place. You could even see a few pieces that had been matted onto his forehead due to the sweat.

"Hey," You cooed, eyes laced with sleep and worry. His own eyes found yours desperately, breathing still labored. "Can you breath for me?"

He nodded wordlessly. Your hands snaked down to his, gripping his clammy palm in your own. You rubbed your thumb across his knuckles gently as his breathing finally slowed down. He dragged his free hand across his face and let out one final shaky breath.

You didnt ask anything at first. You just sat with him in silence— partially because you knew what it felt like, and also because you wanted him calm before saying anything.

Spencer was used to the nightmares. He got them when there was something that was on his mind, and he usually just slept through them, unable to wake up. It sometimes felt like he was stuck in them, and not being able to wake up from them was hell.

When you caught how he looked down, eyes full of panic and dread, you squeezed his hand. "It was just a nightmare Spence,"

He nodded, trying to believe you. You weren't going to pry, or ask him to tell you about what his nightmare was about. "I- I know,"

"...Do you get those often?" You asked after a moment of silence. He shrugged.

"Not necessarily, only when I'm stressed or worried,"

"Can I help in anyway?" Spencer looked up at you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as he shook his head.

"No—" He didn't want to be yet something else you had to worry about because just with the way you were looking at him he could tell you did— you always did. "No, I'm okay,"

You looked at him, trying to get him to crack under your gaze because you knew he wasn't fine. You didn't need him telling you the details, but you did want him telling you what you could do to help— and right now he wasn't going to because that's how stubborn Spencer was.

"You scared the shit out of me," You said, voice nearly breaking in a yawn as you rubbed your eyes with your free hand.

"Sorry," He said. You looked up at him and then reached over and tapped the screen of his phone that sat on the nightstand, reading the white numbers spell out four in the morning.

"You sure I can't help in anyway?" It felt utterly wrong to you to just leave after seeing how he had been paralyzed in his sleep by whatever severe fear his nightmare caused.

He remained silent. With a huff, you let go of his hand and crawled onto the opposite side of the bed wordlessly. Once you had laid on your back, you reached over, grabbing the grey blanket that sat on the end of your bed and pulled it up towards your body, laying into the pillows that sat behind your back.

Once you were accommodated, you looked over at Spencer, who was looking back at you, confusion painting his features. You shrugged at him.

"Can't a girl sleep in her own bed?" He rolled his eyes and with a small laugh, laid back down. He turned onto his side and glanced at the starry lit ceiling.

The roof now looked similar to that of a galaxy. The dark room was airbrushed in a deep blue and hints of purple, as stars circled and glided across the ceiling in a slow pace. The room resembled a nebula, and it was actually pretty fascinating.

"The lights are pretty," You stated, looking at the roof in awe.

"They are," Spencer agreed. You laid down further into the bed and searched for Spencer's hand. He flattened it out, granting access for yours to intertwine itself in his.

"Is this okay?" You asked.

With a single reassuring squeeze, he answered. "Yeah,"

You closed your eyes, letting sleep begin to consume you again as you laid far from Spencer's body, but still connected by the simple touch of your intertwined hands.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @yondiii i @r-3dlips @moonchildohh @rubyirene @sp3ncelle @alisyacsa @pleasantwitchgarden @landooscurls @chonkybonky @hiireadstuff @stillhere197 @iluvreading73

#fanfic #fic rec #fiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer #spencer x reader #spencer x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer x oc #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spence #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!readr #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fluff #fluff

[golden1u5t]

switching up positions | a.h x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: aaron introduces a new position to try and change things up in the bedroom, you're skeptical at first but quickly learn to love it.

"this is good, right?" aaron grunted from behind you, his fingers dug into the skin on your hips as he snapped his hips into you roughly. you could only let out a weak moan in response. it had taken a lot of convincing to get you to try this position because you were so used to always either riding him or doing missionary, but you could definitely say that you were enjoying this a lot more than you thought you would.

aaron was most definitely enjoying this position, he was loving the view he was getting. the view he got when you rode him or when you were doing missionary was great too, of course he liked getting to see your face, but in this way he got the perfect view of your ass and the way it moved every time his hips crashed into you.

a wanton cry left your lips as you reached back to grab any part of him you could. aaron took notice of your searching hand and intertwined your fingers, he leaned over your body and pinned your hands down above your head. the way he leaned over your body caused his cock to shift and your hips to jut up in response.

"m'not gonna- aaron!" you screeched when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, it didn't hurt, just caught you off guard. you turned your head the best you could to look at him, though you were only able to get a glimpse of his hair.

"sorry, pretty." he mumbled and placed a gentle kiss on the place he had bitten. you could feel how his chest rumbled from the abrupt laugh that came from him, you assumed the cause of his outburst was the way you grumbled in response to his halfhearted apology.

aaron sat up and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you up onto your knees so that your back was against his chest. his hand trailed over your chest and down between your thighs. he pressed his fingers against the place where his cock slipped in and out of you, a mixture of your arousal coating his fingers, before sliding them up to press against your clit.

you leaned your head back onto his shoulder as your lips parted, your moans traveling directly into his ear and making him let out a few of his own. aaron snapped his hips harder into you as he felt your walls start to close in on his cock. it only took a few more thrust to have your eyes rolling back and your thighs trembling, your orgasm running its course through your body. you reached down and wrapped your hand around his wrist, not yet pushing his hand away but still holding it for when you couldn't take anymore.

aaron turned his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss, he pushed his tongue into your mouth as soon as your lips parted to let him in. he was good at keeping control, that is, until your walls started to flutter around him as he mindlessly pushed you straight into another orgasm. he tried to kept up the same pace as before but, inevitably, it started to falter. a strangled groan escaped him as his cock twitched, he pulled away from your mouth and pushed you back down onto the mattress.

"fuck-" he gasped, his head had tipping back and his eyes screwing shut, before he could catch a proper breath he was filling your cunt with his cum.

aaron gave a few more shallow thrust as his high came to an end. as much as he didn't want to, he eventually pulled out and laid beside you. usually you hated laying directly on him after having sex, the sweat coating your body wasn't exactly a feeling you liked, but you needed to be close to him so you pushed those feelings aside and draped your body over his.

the quietness after is what always lulled you to sleep after being cleaned up but now add the beat of his heart and you were out before cleaning up was even an option.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #dom aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader

[bellasprettywords]

Hey, I love your writing! I was wondering if you’d do a little something based off of the lyrics “Well, every once in awhile, she'll find my number in her phone and we'll talk for hours She'll tell me things I would have never known about when we were together She's saying, "Sorry, it's just such a long walk home" So she's coming over cause it's better than being alone” Spencer Reid x female reader. I was thinking more like a Midwest emo alt type of character, totally not someone you’d expect Spencer to go for?

I think your nose is bleeding (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Thank you very very much for the request!! I hope you like this little one shot, because I didn't know the song, but I hope I could meet your expectations🩷✨

My masterlist

Requests are always open🥰

Warnings: Mmm apart of it being a little messy, I think there's nothing, but it fluff

Word count: 1,232

y/n – your name

Spencer and you were kind of an odd couple, excuse me, a couple of friends for the untrained eye. While he’s a trained scholar with a collection of PhDs on Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering; with an impressive job as a profiler at the FBI, which most of the time had him travelling all around the country, and a shy personality with socially awkward tints, and a genius brain. You are a tattoo artist with a free spirit, a soft spot for poetry, love for sassy comebacks, and a special love for midwest emo music. Once upon a time, almost a year ago, Spencer and you were a couple, but the two of you decided to leave things as friends, because your lifestyles were quite different, which made a relationship considerably difficult for you. However, the two of you decided to stay friends, which seemed kind of easier as you established a set of rules to make sure everything between the two of you could flow naturally.

Even if it was as friends, you knew that the two of you seemed like polar opposites, but the love you shared always made you be better for each other, growing up, learning about the other’s point of view, and becoming empathetic, even if you didn’t see eye to eye under certain circumstances. After your break-up, Spencer and you learned to compromise and commit to make sure the friendship could work, sure, sometimes it was hard considering his packed schedule, and your love for spontaneous adventures.

It was a little later than you would usually close the tattoo studio, so you decided to call Spencer to see what he was up to; you hadn’t talked in a while, so you weren’t even sure if he was in the city, but it was worth it to take the shot.

“Hey, y/n, it’s nice to hear from you” you heard Spencer’s voice through the phone

“How are you, mighty Doctor Reid?” you asked excited because, deep down, you were really longing to hear Spencer’s voice

“I’m… I’m alright, you know, just doing my thing; how are you? It’s been ages” he said trying to hide his own excitement to hear from you. Sure, you were friends, but deep down Spencer hoped that with time and more organization, maybe someday the two of you could rekindle your previous relationship

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I know what you mean! I’ve missed you Spence, I hope I’m not interrupting you at work or anything” you said, walking to your car

“No, I’m just home solving a puzzle, and deciding what to order for dinner” he said

“Uh, that’s nice, I was actually thinking about going to Little India to get take out. I’m really craving chicken curry, want anything?” you said jokingly, pretty sure Spencer wouldn’t catch the subtext

“Uh… sure, some chicken tikka masala and flatbread would be pretty amazing, thank you for asking” Spencer said, ensuring you he didn’t catch the joke

“An order or chicken tikka masala, white rice, and flatbread, coming right up” you said getting ready to hang up the call, when Spencer interrupted

“Wait, don’t hang up” he said as you turned on your car engine “I want to go with you, if that’s okay, I mean, if it’s not an imposition” he stuttered this time

“It would be delightful, sure, I love talking to you” you said with a shy smile forming on your lips, “What have you been up to? Any cool cases I can know about?” you asked Spencer

“I flew in today from Atlanta, we went to solve a case there” Spencer stared telling you all about the case, the unsub and how the team managed to save the victims that were abducted, when a car cut you off and honcked at you

“Jerk” you said under your breath

“y/n! are you okay? what was that?” Spencer asked frantically

“I’m okay, I’m okay, it was just some jerk” you said hoping to soothe Spencer’s concern “Did you know I hate driving?” you asked the young doctor

“I didn’t know that” he said sounding quite surprised at your revelation

“I really do! That’s why I’d always ask you if we could carpool when we were together” you confessed

“Hu… That would’ve been useful information back then” he said, making sure of making a mental note about that, to ensure to drive you whenever he could do it

The two of you kept talking, and the 40-minute drive that you needed to get to your favorite Indian restaurant, suddenly felt like a 5-minute stroll with the one you loved. Talking to Spencer like this felt amazing, it was peaceful, it almost felt natural like breathing, he always had the right words for you and even when you paused the conversation for a little while, the silence between the two of you was incredibly comfortable. You arrived at your destination and while you were ordering the food, Spencer stayed on the line with you, speaking about an impressive number of folkloric Indian stories, and facts about the country. You picked up the food and drove to Spencer’s apartment, this time, the drive was quite short, but that didn’t mean it was least pleasant with Spence’s rambling

When you arrived to the apartment building, Spencer was already downstairs waiting for you

“Hey boy-genious, I was at least hoping I could separate the orders before giving them to you” you said, a little butt hurt that apparently, Spencer didn’t even want you on his apartment

“What are you talking about? I’m here to help you carry the bags upstairs” he said a little confused by your comment

“Oh, I thought… Never mind” you said brushing off the butterflies that starter fluttering inside your stomach

“I’m really glad you called, you had no idea how much I missed you” Spencer said as you were entering the apartment building

“I missed you too Spence” you said

The night went amazingly, and the damn butterflies wouldn’t go anywhere. The two of you eat dinner together, and it almost felt as you have never broken up, the conversation flowed, and you could feel how this was one of those moments you’d always treasure in your heart

“I should get going, it’s a really long drive home” you said as soon as the clock struck 12:00 am

“Don’t go, please, just… stay the night” Spencer pleaded with his puppy eyes

“I really shouldn’t” you replied, avoiding eye contact with Spencer. Sure, one would argue that a friend can stay over at another friend’s apartment, but you knew that with Spencer it would be complicated, especially as you weren’t over him yet

“I’m begging you, I may seem alright, but as soon as I go to bed without you I feel so… empty and alone. This apartment is not the same without you, as a matter of fact, my life is not the same without you” Spencer said taking your chin so you could look at him in the eye

“If I stay the night, I may never leave” you said, gifting Spencer a side smile

“Maybe I just don’t want you to leave” Spencer said, leaning forward and starring intensively into your eyes, so you did what any normal person who has the object of his or her desire would’ve done: you leaned forward, and kissed Spencer

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fandom #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds

[lemonadeinfuser]

tbh when rossi first showed up i really didn’t like him but he’s grown on me sm as the show’s progressed, i’ll always miss gideon but dave also cares and adds sm to the team

#david rossi #rossi cm #criminal minds #bau team #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds hotch #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds incorrect #derek morgan #criminal minds fic #fanfiction #gideon cm #gideon

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 20 | S.R

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Summary - Spencer seeks to enact his ultimate revenge on his biggest demon. You run into a face from your past, but is it simple coincidence?

A/N - we’ve reached the part that Spencer’s story has been leading to. Tread lightly with the next few chapters as they get pretty dark.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - child molester, past sexual abuse of a child, Spencer faces his trauma, past drug use, swearing, making out, cheating, fingering.

WC - 5.5k

Chapter 20 - Unopened Windows

The residential suburb of Summerlin was barely fourteen miles off of The Strip but given the time of night it took Spencer almost forty minutes to drive to. But it would be more than worth it for this kill. 

It was one he’d been thinking about for some time, but one he’d never thought would come to fruition. It was his most dangerous target by far, it broke a lot of Spencer’s own rules he’d put into place when he’d started this vigilante mission. 

But this would be his swan song, his grand finale. It was easily the stupidest idea he’d ever had, and if he were to ever get caught this would be why. But it would be so worth it to say he’d slayed this final monster. 

This one had been over three decades in the making. The man in question, who’s house Spencer had parked the Impala a little way down from, was a serial child molester who had flown under the radar for nearly forty years. Spencer didn’t know exactly how many children had fallen prey to the seemingly innocuous looking man, but he knew his very first victim personally.  

It was entirely plausible the wheels had been set in motion on Spencer’s ultimate demise long before prison, long before he’d even realised it. Maybe he’d been destined to become this person all along. He knew all the facts and figures on the subject, he’d just never thought too much on it in case it was a particular line of thinking he never came back from. 

But there was a definitive link to abusees becoming abusers. On average fifty percent of serial killers suggested they had been psychologically abused as children, while thirty six percent said they experienced physical abuse. And twenty six percent reported suffering sexual abuse during childhood. 

It was a definitive correlation but it didn’t take into consideration the amount of abuse victims who didn’t go on to commit violent crimes or the serial killers who weren’t abused as children. But it certainly bore some kind of relevance. A victim takes back the power they lost by becoming the oppressor. 

Spencer ran his finger over the blunt side of the blade, eyes never leaving that one house. There was a light coming from one of the downstairs windows so he knew his target was home, that’s not why he was waiting. 

Why he was waiting, he wasn’t sure. The sooner he got this over with the better, one less evil in the world. He never imagined this would be so difficult. 

He’d gone two months without killing and he’d hoped he was done. He’d thought maybe the strength of your love had pulled him out of the darkness for good this time. 

But then two days ago he’d awoken from a nightmare, the likes of which he hadn’t had in more years than he could count. It was less a dream than a memory, a memory from when he was just eight years old. The worst moment of his life, worse than his drug addiction, worse than watching Maeve die; even worse than prison. 

He hadn't exactly repressed it, it was more a case of he’d locked it inside a box at the back of his conscious mind and never dared open it. Maybe if he had repressed it he wouldn’t have ended up here. 

It had been what the BAU called his trigger. It was the trigger that set into motion a lifetime of events that had led him to this moment. And the nightmare had only unlocked that box and set the monster free and now it was out, there was no containing it. This man had to die so Spencer could live. 

As he stared at the house he simultaneously had both Cat and Mary’s voices in his head. 

I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood. 

Fine, I’ll tell everyone I know that you sexually assaulted me. 

Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie. It’s not a good look. 

So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me.

And then through the fog appeared another voice, this time his own. 

Do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?

Maybe it was the events with Mary that night that had led him to have that nightmare again after so many years and brought it all back to the foreground of his mind. That horrible nightmare in which he was trapped inside that house with no escape from the one man he was supposed to be able to trust. 

Time was said to heal all wounds but Spencer’s were still just as open as the day as they’d been made, never giving them a chance to scar and mend. 

He suddenly slammed his hand against the steering wheel, subsequently silencing the thoughts that fought for dominance in his fractured brain. It didn’t matter how he’d ended up here, it didn’t matter what had been his undoing. This was his beginning and tonight he was making it his end. 

Spencer had tracked down your demon, now it was finally time to take care of his own. Most children were told about the boogeyman hiding under their bed but the monsters under his bed were never as terrifying as the one who crawled into it. 

At eight years old Spencer Reid had learnt the hard way that he couldn't trust anybody, not even his own family. His future had been written in the stars from the very first time his father had crept into his room and beneath his sheets. 

He slammed the wheel again, closing his eyes tightly against the onslaught of tears that had built up and one last resounding voice cut above all the others. 

It’s ok, daddy will make it all better. Big boys don’t cry, Spencer. 

When he opened his eyes again, he allowed one single tear to fall before he roughly rubbed his eyes free of anymore. Picking up the blade, he pulled at all his bravado and opened the car door.

It was finally time. William Reid had to die. 

Big boys don’t cry dad, but we do grow up to be psychopaths. 

***

After a long soak in the tub and throwing up once more, you put on a little summer dress before texting Spencer on the burner phone that you were heading to the spa and to let you know when he was back. He’d see it once he picked up the phone from Bennington. 

You took the elevator down to the first floor and the hustle and bustle coming out of the casino assaulted your ears. You stepped out, heading in the direction the signs told you the spa was, trying to put distance between yourself and the sounds of coins in slots. 

As you headed further away from one noise, another caught your attention but this one was much more welcoming. The dulcet tones of someone playing piano wafted your way and instantly relaxed any tensions you had in your body. 

You instinctively followed the sound, now ignoring signs for the spa in lieu of finding where the tickling of keys was coming from. It led you into a grand room with a large mahogany bar taking up one wall and plush, velvet armchairs scattered around glass tables. The piano was in one corner, a man in a full suit and tails sitting behind it. 

You glanced around and continued forward. Now you thought about it, you did have a kind of metallic taste in your mouth, a glass of something would go down a treat. You let the music wash over you as you made your way to the bar, taking in all a multitude of liquor bottles on shelves but the thought of any of them made your stomach turn violently. 

What the hell is going on? Why don’t I want to drink? I swear those goddamn hotdogs…

A man with a very fake smile and even faker tan behind the bar greeted you and you reluctantly ordered a soda. You paid the man and picked up your glass before turning on your heels but as you did so, you crashed straight into a hard, broad body. 

Your drink splashed all over both your dress and his shirt and you narrowly avoided dropping the glass. You grumbled under your breath, staring down at your soiled clothing. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t…” you glanced up and met the dark eyes and bearded face and your hand around the glass slipped again and you quickly put it on the bar to avoid breaking it. 

He stared at you but you couldn’t work out what he was thinking, his expression completely unreadable. Your heart drummed against your rib cage as the music continued to play around you. 

“I…what are you doing here?” You swallowed thickly. 

He didn’t even seem to notice his wet shirt, not taking his eyes off of you and you were sure he didn’t look as surprised to see you as you were him. He folded his thick, tattooed arms over his chest and exhaled heavily. 

“Hi Y/N.” Jesse finally spoke. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

***

With the SIG and his hunting knife tucked into the back of his jeans, Spencer snuck down the side of the house and into the backyard through the broken gate. 

It hadn’t been at all hard to find his father, not when the man was such a creature of habit. All those years ago when he’d come face to face with the man again during the course of a case, Spencer had made a mental note of the address in his dad's case file. He’d kept it inside of his head for all these years and it was finally of some use to him. 

Since waking up from that nightmare two days ago he’d thought of nothing but coming here and ending his fathers life. Thankfully when he woke up screaming you’d already been up, in the backyard listening to music that had drowned out his cries. 

Spencer had only ever told one person of the torture he’d lived through at his fathers hands. When Morgan had come clean about his own childhood abuse he’d considered talking to the older man about it but every time he tried he would clam up. Talking about it meant thinking about it and he couldn’t do that. 

The only time he’d ever opened up about it had been completely out of his control, whilst high on dilaudid he’d accidentally let slip his darkest secret. 

“Spencer, Spence…just calm down. Please?” She tried to reach for him to stop his frantic pacing but he shook her off. 

“Can’t. Can’t stop. If I stop they win.” He turned away from her, ducking behind the desk in his living room and rifling through papers.

“Who? Who will win?” She followed him, frowning at her friend. 

“The monsters.” He replied simply. 

“Spencer…”

“They’re everywhere, we can’t stop them all. We can stop some of them but we can’t stop them all. We’ll never stop them all.” He kept moving papers about but she had no idea what he was looking for. 

“Spencer, what are you talking about? Are you…are you high?” Her tone caused him to stop his rampant shuffling and look up at her across the desk. 

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “The drugs make the monsters not seem so scary.” 

She cautiously rounded the desk and placed her hand on his shoulder. She gently guided him away from the desk and over to the couch where they both sat down. 

“Spence, Hankel is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.” She kept her hand on his shoulder. 

“This isn’t about him.” He spat, furiously grinding his teeth. “Fuck it all came back to me. Carl Buford unlocked that box and while I was in Hankel’s cabin all those memories came flooding out.” 

He rubbed his eyes heavily with his palms, his left leg bouncing up and down. 

“Carl Buford?” She frowned again. “What does he have to do with this?” 

“He hurt Morgan. He hurt Morgan in the worst kind of way. The kind of way that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Never look at yourself the same. Is it my fault? Did I do something to encourage it? My fault, gotta be my fault.” He hit his forehead with his hands a few times, devolving into incoherent muttering. 

She took hold of his wrists and guided his hands away from his face. He looked at her in a doe eyed fashion, looking so small and innocent. 

“Spencer,” she inhaled a shaky breath. “Did someone hurt you in that way? Like Carl Buford did to Morgan?” 

His bottom lip quivered and she saw the tears that quickly sprung behind his eyes. 

“Yes.” He nodded stiffly, pulling his hands free of her hold. “My father.” 

The first time he’d cried and begged his dad to stop but all the times that followed he laid there and waited for it to be over. 

The abuse continued for two years. For two years every time Spencer crawled into his bed at night and he would stare at the door and wonder if his very own boogeyman would surface that night. 

When he was ten and his parents divorced, it was the best day of his life, finding out his father was moving out. He hadn’t realised at the time he’d probably started growing too old for his dad anyway, sexual predators were very specific in their type. It also didn’t occur to him then that he wouldn’t be the only one. 

He was still fairly certain his father assaulted Riley Jenkins. But how many others had there been? How many other kids were terrified of William Reid sneaking into their room at night? Certainly none of the others were the man’s own flesh and blood. 

He crept around to the back of the house, his hands trembling at his sides. He understood now how you could get so emotional when you’d confronted Green. It was different when you knew them. He wasn’t going to be able to distance himself from this like he had the others. This wasn’t some stranger, this was the man who had ruined Spencer’s life. And Spencer was going to look him in the eyes and return the favour as he cut his fathers throat. 

There was something oddly poetic about it. His dad had played a role in giving him life and now Spencer was the one who got to take his fathers away. It was almost a full circle. 

He quietly traversed the back steps up to the screen door. As expected it was open, much like most of the monsters he tracked down. They thought the evil living in that house was far worse than any that lurked outside. His father was about to be proven wrong. 

He inched open the screen door and stepped inside the dark kitchen. The light was coming from the living room and he could hear the TV was on. As he silently padded across the linoleum floor, he withdrew the SIG and pointed it forward in his shaking hand. 

His entire life had been culminating up until this moment. Everything he’d done had led him here. This was the ultimate kill, and once he did this maybe he would finally be able to find peace. 

Killing his father would be Spencer’s crowning glory. And if he got caught because of it, at least he would always be able to say he’d taken out his biggest demon. 

***

“Hi Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.” 

“You don’t seem all that surprised to see me.” You felt a pit forming in your stomach. “Did you follow me here?” 

Jesse pulled a face before he started chuckling, unfolding his arms and letting them fall to his sides. 

“What? Why would I follow you? I’m not a stalker, I swear.” He held his hands up. 

“It seems very coincidental that you’d be here. And you didn’t seem surprised that I was here.” You took a step backward. 

“Trust me when I say I am just as shocked as you are. I’m partly wondering if you even are here or if I'm just going crazy.” He continued to laugh. 

“Why are you here?” You took another step back. 

“I’ve got a buddy from college who moved out here a while back. He’s been trying to get me to come visit for a while and after everything that happened with you it seemed like a good time to get away.” He shrugged. 

Your heartbeat started to return to normal, looking in his eyes you saw no threat. Sure it was a huge coincidence but coincidences happened, right? You were being paranoid. 

“Jesus,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry for being suspicious.”

“It’s ok, I would be too.” He shrugged. “You on your own?” 

“Yeah.” You rolled your lip between your teeth. 

“Can we talk? Somewhere more private?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets almost nervously. 

That didn’t seem like a good idea, you didn’t trust yourself to be alone with him. But nonetheless you started nodding. 

“I’ve got a room upstairs. We can go there.” You turned and motioned for him to follow you. 

This was a horrible idea and once alone in the elevator you already wanted him to put his hands all over you. You kept your eyes on the floor and neither of you spoke as it makes it slow ascent. 

Finally on your floor you led him to your room and slotted the key card in before the door clicked open. You led him inside and he took in the suite with a similar wide eyed awe as you had. 

“Jesus, this one room is bigger than my entire apartment.” Jesse shook his head. 

“Yeah, uh, Spencer’s doing, not mine.” You shrugged awkwardly. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“Mary‘s missing.” He cut right to the chase. “She disappeared the same day you and Spencer did.” 

You felt that pit opening up in your stomach again and you fought to keep your expression neutral. 

“Seriously?” You didn’t trust your voice to say anymore than that. 

“Yeah. And I think you know something about it. It seems too coincidental, don’t you think?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, walking further into the living room of the suite. 

“About as coincidental as you being in Vegas at the same time as me, in the same hotel.” You mirrored his expression. 

“I told you, I’m visiting a college buddy. Thought I’d treat myself to a night in a decent hotel.” He shrugged. 

“What’s his name? Your college buddy?”

“Liam.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not and you hated that. 

“And he lives in Vegas?” 

“Henderson.” He was quick to counter. “Stop changing the subject, Y/N. I think you know what happened to Mary.” 

“I have no idea. Maybe she ran away? She didn’t strike me as being all that responsible.” You shrugged. 

“I don’t think so. She had no money, she worked a ton of jobs so she could get out of Butte but she couldn’t afford it.” He stepped closer.

“Maybe she started charging for her services.” You rolled your eyes. “Being a whore could have been her big payday.” 

“I guess.” He chuckled darkly. “But I don’t think so.” 

“You seem to know her pretty well. And clearly she likes older men. There’s a story there.” You tried to change the subject again, 

“You think I would sleep with Mary?” He scoffed. “I prefer a woman my own age. And you know all about my complicated history.”

“There’s something you aren’t telling me.” 

“How am I suddenly the one on trial?” He heaved a sigh. “Fine, if you must know, my ex, the one who managed the Tin Cup, the one who fled town…she was Mary’s aunt. So I guess I knew her pretty well or whatever. Got invited to some family dinners in the year we dated. Now I’ve been honest with you, it’s your turn. What happened to Mary?”

“I have no idea.” You stepped back when he stepped forward again.

“I think you’re lying.” 

“And I think you don’t know me well enough to know when I’m lying.” Again you stepped back as he stepped closer. 

“Her aunt, Laura, called me after Mary’s mom got in touch with her when she disappeared. Her mom thought maybe she’d run off to visit Laura. So she called me, for the first time in two years I had to talk to her. She was the first woman I got close to after my wife killed herself and she broke my heart. And Mary’s disappearance meant she called me and I had to deal with all that again. So if you did something to her, the least you can do is be honest with me.” He was trying to intimidate you and maybe if you hadn’t dealt with Spencer’s aggressive side for so long it might have worked. 

“I did nothing to her.” You squared your shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to talk to your ex but I have no idea where Mary is.” 

“And I still don’t believe you.” This time when he stepped closer you didn’t move, you weren’t backing down. 

“Then that’s on you.”

“Tell me what happened to her, Y/N.” Another step and he was dangerously close to you, you could smell his woodsy aftershave. 

“I don’t know.” You tried to ignore it. 

“Tell me.” 

“No.” 

“Tell me.” He repeated, raising one of his strong, intricately decorated arms and his large fingers wrapped around your bicep. “Spencer did something to her right? And you’re covering for him. Do you know how foolish that makes you? You think he cares about you? You think he wouldn’t throw you under the bus giving half the chance?”

“You don’t know him.” You shook your head, his grip on you getting tighter. 

“I’ve known plenty of men like him. What did he do to her? Did he kill her?”

“No.” You swallowed, his aftershave assaulting your senses and making your legs tremble. “He didn’t do anything to her.”

“You can tell me, Y/N. Tell me what Spencer did to Mary.” 

“He didn’t do anything to her!” You suddenly raised your voice. “I killed her ok? Is that what you want to hear? She was threatening Spencer. She found out who we were and was blackmailing him for ten grand. She said if he didn’t give her the money she would tell the whole town he raped her! I couldn’t let her do that so I killed her and we buried her body somewhere it will never be found.” 

Jesse’s face paled and his hand fell from your arm and he stumbled backwards a little. Your heart started racing as you realised the words that had just left your lips. He glared at you like you were a stranger. 

“You…she…why would she say that? She’s a bitch sure but surely she wouldn’t…” he trailed off, his voice distant. 

“I heard it with my own ears.” You croaked. “And I just saw red. My sister was raped and murdered when I was seventeen years old and it tore me and my family apart from the inside. I couldn’t bare to hear her spread a fucking lie like that and so I shot her in the back of the head. She never saw it coming.” 

Jesse ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his breathing growing heavy. 

“Jesus Christ.” He grimaced, taking in your words. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Are you disgusted by me?” You pouted. 

He exhaled shakily, his brows furrowing as he tried to process an answer. 

“No.” He shook his head, looking confused by his own voice. “Which says more about me than it does you. I’m not disgusted. I should be, but I’m not. If she would have told everyone that it would have ruined Spencer’s life. What kind of person does that?” 

“An evil one.” You swallowed. 

“Exactly.” He nodded his head in agreement. “So no, I’m not disgusted. But even weirder than that I’m actually incredibly turned on.” 

Suddenly he moved closer to you again, quickly closing the space between you but you held your hands up to stop him. 

“I’m married.” Your voice cracked. 

“No, you’re not.” He tried to move closer once more but again you stopped him. 

“No, I really am this time. As of a few weeks ago.” You held up your left hand, showing him the new ring. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, running his hand over his beard. “I came out here to get over you! Jesus, I barely knew you any time at all, and I didn’t even really know you but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been on my own for so long now and I’ve gotten so good at it. But since the first night I met you in the Nickel I never wanted to be alone again. You’re everything I always wanted and more but of course you’re married and I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“No, Jesse, you’re not an idiot.” You found yourself moving closer to him, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw. 

“Of course I am.” He scoffed. “Only an idiot would fall in love with a woman he doesn’t even know.” 

Your heart grew to double the size hearing those words from his mouth and you couldn’t stop yourself when you suddenly crushed your lips together. 

Jesse instantly kissed you back, cupping your face in both of his hands and parting your lips with his tongue. 

“Say it again.” You mumbled into his mouth. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He repeated, grinding his hips against you. 

Out of nowhere tears sprung to your eyes and when you opened them and pulled back from the kiss they unexpectedly started to fall. Jesse’s face fell. 

“Why are you crying?” He started brushing your tears away with his thumbs. 

“Because when you say it I actually believe it.” You snivelled. “I don’t think I’ve ever really been convinced when he’s said it to me. But I believe you, I believe that you really do love me.” 

“I do.” He nodded. “I shouldn’t. I know nothing about you apart from the fact you killed a person. And that should make me hate you, I should turn you into the cops. But that’s the last thing I want to do.” 

“What do you want to do?” You dared ask him. 

“Oh I think you’ve got a pretty good idea.” With that he kissed you again, one hand moving from your face to your lower back which he used to guide you towards the couch. 

He kept kissing you while he lowered you back to it and crawled on top of you. His erection pressed into your leg and his hand was quickly wandering under your dress and ghosting along your panties. He hissed into your mouth when he felt how wet you were. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He spoke against your lips as his fingers brushed your underwear aside. “I love you so fucking much.” 

You moaned into his mouth when two fingers suddenly entered you and your eyes rolled back in your head as you succumbed to Jesse entirely. 

It was a glimpse into the life you’d never have, one night to see what you and Jesse could have been but never would. After tonight he would leave again and you’d have to let him. He was simply just a window that had to remain closed. 

***

William Reid sat in the old battered armchair watching Family Feud whilst sipping from a mug of tea. The armchair faced away from the kitchen door and enabled Spencer to sneak right up into the doorway. 

His fathers thinning head of hair rested against the back of the chair as he hummed along to the theme tune. Spencer had the SIG pointed at the back of his head as he took a few steps forward into the carpeted living room.

He edged right up behind the chair, the muzzle of the gun just a few inches from the back of his fathers head. He could end this now before William even saw it coming. All he had to do was pull the trigger and it would all be over. 

But he wanted to look him in the eyes, the same way his father always made him do. 

Open your eyes, son. Look at me, don’t be scared. Daddy’s going to take care of you. I said look at me! 

The rage bubbling within Spencer was like nothing he’d ever felt before. This man was responsible for destroying his childhood and the childhood of so many other young boys. The cycle had to end. 

William Reid suddenly tensed in his seat, slowly setting his mug down on the little table next to the chair. Spencer could hear his breathing grow heavier and when he glanced up at the TV he realised why. 

Spencer could see his own silhouette in the small, ancient device and clearly his father had seen it too. William swallowed thickly, his shaking arms raising gradually until they were over his head in surrender. 

“Please don’t hurt me.” His voice trembled as he spoke. “Take whatever you want, b-but I don’t have much.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Spencer replied harshly, and he saw his father straighten in recognition. “You have nothing I could possibly want.” 

“I should have known this day would come.” William sighed and lowered his arms again. 

Spencer kept the gun focused on his fathers head as he cautiously rounded the chair until he was standing in front of the older man. 

William Reid looked haggard, older than his years. His eyes that had haunted Spencer’s dreams for as long as he could remember had lost their menacing spark. His face was hollow, gaunt even. And he didn’t even look phased by the firearm trained on him. He sighed as though the whole thing was an inconvenience to him. 

His lip suddenly turned up at the corner in a wicked smile that Spencer remembered so well. It caused his stomach to flip and he momentarily felt like that terrified little eight year old begging his dad not to touch him again. 

“You’re all grown up.” William smiled at him, threading his fingers together in his lap. “I missed you, son.” 

Spencer coiled his finger around the trigger, his heart beating loudly in his ears. His father was his one unopened window into his tormented past and today was the day he finally put all those horrid memories to bed and opened that window and at long last be able to breathe fresh air for the first time in over thirty years. 

It was time to break out of the walls of that house his father had confined him to in his memory and set himself free. 

My favorite movies,

Are tales never filmed.

That I dream of living out,

A private screening,

That plays in the field.

But I'm trapped inside this house.

Walk through the halls, trace the walls,

Back to where we made our memories.

See what will never be.

Through unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

I'm sick of hearing,

That time always heals.

Try to tell that to my scars,

Sure, it stopped the bleeding,

And it's harder to feel.

But it really left a mark.

I walk through the halls, trace the walls,

Back to where we made our memories.

See what will never be.

Through unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

All the stories left unwritten,

That we drew up in the past.

It's the game we never went to,

Or the drinks we never had.

As I look up to the stars,

And make a wish to bring you back.

But I curse the roof above me,

And I learn to live behind all these.

Unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

They tear me apart,

They tear me apart.

See what will never be,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective @rebelliousstories

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