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#criminal minds
irndad · 3 days
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Spencer laying in bed brushing readers hair and rubbing her back while she's asleep and then Derek walks in cause he has a key and Spencer refuses to move reader off him so Derek and Spence just talk in the room while reader sleeps ?
thank you for requesting dove!! she is so soft <3 requests r open!!
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Morgan is a great houseguest, usually. Well, a fine one. He knocks, and when Reid had moved into this place he’d bought Spencer a moderately priced bottle of red wine that has sat untouched in the months that have followed. Still, Spencer had given him a key both for professional reasons and personal ones. He liked to be accessible to Morgan.
Tonight, though, this feels like a mistake. This thing Spencer has with her feels delicate. She’s so lovely, warm and kind and came over to eat takeout on his couch after what seemed to be an incredibly long day. He’d called her on his way out from the office, eager to see her that night, and selfishly was incredibly pleased that she still wanted to come over despite her obvious fatigue. 
She’d put in a valiant effort into staying awake, and god, it was adorable to watch. He likes to watch her, study her like a detailed oil painting. Likes to watch how the light of the television bounces off her lashes and illuminates the lines of her gorgeous profile. He’d watched as her eyelids got heavy, and she fell into a light slumber. She’d leaned onto his shoulder, and then fell into his lap. 
“Are you okay with this?” He’d asked gently, nervous and endeared in equal measures. She’d nodded, and nuzzled into his soft tummy. 
He was immeasurably pleased.
Which brings us to Morgan, busting through door with his spare key, and the most aggressive shush he’s ever given him. Morgan saw a woman on his lap, and his eyes widened in bemused shock. 
“My man,” he whisper-laughed, and Spencer blushed a deep scarlet. 
“What do you need?” he tried to be friendly, but Spencer- he was distracted, alright. 
“I came over to go over a file,” Morgan said, “But if lover-boy is busy…”
“Shut up and sit down,” he says, eyes gesturing to the ottoman. Morgan quirked up his brow in questioning, gesturing towards his sleeping girlfriend. 
“She’s a deep sleeper. Talk quiet.”
When she wakes and she’s told that Morgan had seen her sleep, she’s so embarrassed Spencer thinks she might pop. It’s still so, so cute.
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golden1u5t · 2 days
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Reid being really clingy after being in prison, like he doesn’t leave readers side and is constantly holding on to her.
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ꨄ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
ꨄ genre: fluff
ꨄ summary: you knew spencer was clingy, he’s always been, but it intensifies after being prison.
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“where are you going?” spencer’s voice was full of sleep as he spoke. you were sure he was fully asleep and thought you were in the clear to get out of bed but apparently the slightly bit of movement had him awake and alert. you wanted to go get a glass of water but with how attached to you spencer’s been lately, you wanted to get him to sleep first.
you didn’t have a problem with him being attached to your hip, per se, but you figured it would be nice to have a moment alone, even if it was only for a few minutes. you knew why he was so clingy and it’s sure to pass when he gets back in the routine of being back at home, so for now you’ll let him hold onto you and you’ll give up your personal space until he’s back to normal.
“i’m just going to get a glass of water, baby. do you want to come with me?” it was a stupid question, really, since you already knew he was come with you whether you invited him or not.
spencer didn’t verbally answer you, opting to nod his head and get out of bed. he attached himself to you almost immediately, wrapping his arm around yours and trailing behind you all the way to the kitchen. when you made it into the kitchen spencer leaned against the counter while you fixed your drink.
of course though, the second you were done and ready to go back to bed his arm was back around you.
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jemilies · 3 days
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pathologicalreid · 3 days
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You write fluff and flangst absolutely amazingly and I’m in awe every dang time!
Buuut since you’ve got spring break coming up, a little fic idea that’s in my head that I’ll never do justice! (If you’re interested)
Fem!reader finding out an adorable way to tell Spencer she’s pregnant. I don’t care if they’re dating or married or what - but like she puts together a crossword, or a puzzle and he just doesn’t get it. (If you wanna throw angst in, he leaves without getting it for a case and then realizes it in the middle of the night.)
puzzling | S.R.
trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy and misc. symptoms., talk of fainting and blood tests. word count: 1.69k a/n: welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda! i hope this does your request justice and thank you for entrusting me with this idea!!!! <3
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you
It was your pride and joy, the collection of folded papers that sat on the kitchen counter, next to a cup of coffee that you had already filled for him.
On your fake newspaper, you had created a custom crossword puzzle. With four very important clues.
Across: “Early stage of life”
Across: “American actress Frances _”
Down: “Must be finished by”
Down: “Veteran’s Day month”
You smiled softly to yourself as you heard Spencer’s footsteps coming down the staircase. Padding over to the kitchen counter, you sat on one of the stools, a cup of tea in front of you.
Before he even looked at the newspaper, Spencer leaned over to kiss you good morning, “You look tired,” he whispered, hooking a finger under your chin as if he were investigating the dark circles underneath your eyes.
“Way to make a girl feel good about herself,” you teased lightly, even though you knew he was right. At least you felt tired.
He rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Turning to grab his mug of coffee off of the counter, he observed you again, “Are you sure your doctor said nothing was wrong?”
Smiling, you gave him a brief nod. You had gone to see your doctor a few days ago for nausea and fatigue, and Spencer would’ve gone with you had he not been on the other side of the country on a case. “They’re running some tests, but they didn’t see anything blatantly wrong,” the doctor was running a few blood tests, checking your iron levels and HCG.
Using his free hand, Spencer reached over and moved a lock of hair out of your face, “They said your blood pressure was low?”
Low blood pressure, as it turned out, was a pregnancy symptom that was most common in the first trimester. “You’re freaking out over nothing, Spence,” you told him. Really, it was something. A rather large something – or small, depending on how you wanted to look at it. “Come on, it’s crossword time,” you told him, using the end of the pen to tap on the newspaper.
“I worry about you when I’m away. You do know that low blood pressure can cause syncope, right? Did they prescribe you anything for it?” He asked, ignoring your wishes to move on and do the crossword.
There was a small part of you that just wanted to tell him, but frankly, you had worked too hard on the crossword puzzle to give yourself away like that. You couldn’t tell him that they didn’t prescribe you anything because they didn’t know how far along you were. A larger part of you knew that if you just got him to work on the puzzle, he would have his answers in about seven minutes.
Then his phone rang, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and the Caller ID on the screen caused you to slump your shoulders forward. It was Garcia. “Hey Garcia,” he greeted on the phone, “at the tarmac?”
You set your head on the counter and sighed in defeat as Spencer hung up the phone.
“Are you alright?” He asked you softly, tenderly wrapping an arm around your torso.
Humming, you sat back up, ignoring the stars in your field of vision as you did so. “I’m fine, you should go,” you insisted.
Spencer shook his head, “No, you’re sick. I’ll call Garcia back and tell her I have to stay back.” Acting bewildered at the idea that he had been so remiss as to agree to do his job while you were unwell.
You reached out and set a hand on his, “It’s alright, love. I can take care of myself,” you reminded him. Besides the fact that you were wholly self-sufficient, the only reason why Spencer would be asked to meet the team at the tarmac was if they were headed toward a particularly gnarly case – they needed all hands on deck.
“Promise me you’ll check in? Call your mom if you need any help, please,” he requested, pleading eyes following you as you got up to hug him.
Nodding, you wrapped your arms around him, “You should take the crossword with you.” Pulling away, you haphazardly refolded the newspaper and handed it to him.
Furrowing his brow, Spencer inspected the paper that you had given him. “We always do the crossword together on Saturdays,” he found you incredibly helpful on the pop culture clues. “We could save this one and then have two for next week,” he offered.
God. No. Your eyes widened at the idea of having to keep your secret for another week, shaking your head, you shrugged, “No, you should take it. It’ll make me look forward to next week even more,” you insisted.
He folded, and with a sweet kiss to the forehead, he was off to go save lives, remaining entirely unaware of the one growing inside of you.
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him
The judgmental Italian behind him was proving to be a distraction, “Did you find something?” Spencer asked, eyeing the evidence board with frustration. Something bugged him about the case, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
“Not right now, but it’s three in the morning,” Rossi said, joining Spencer by the evidence board. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours a break?”
Shaking his head, Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I tried. I can’t stop thinking about the case.” Men were popping up dead in a small Missouri town at an alarming rate, and he felt so close to a breakthrough.
Dave nodded like he understood the feeling, that was probably why he had emerged from his hotel room so early, returning to the precinct before the sun peeked over the horizon. “What do you usually do to wind your brain down?”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “Crossword puzzles,” he admitted, any word puzzle would do the trick.
The chuckle from the older man next to him startled Spencer, “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Rossi looked around the precinct, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere.”
“No,” Spencer said, “I have one in my bag, actually.” He refrained from including the detail that you had given him the crossword puzzle, or else he’d never hear the end of it.
Clapping him on the back, Rossi lifted his coffee cup, “Then I suggest you go take the thirty seconds to fill out that puzzle and then get some rest.”
Once he was back in his hotel room, he changed before pulling out the pile of papers that you had sent him off with. Sitting on top of the bed, he filled out the puzzle in approximately six minutes and forty-three seconds. Once the letters were filled in, he skimmed the puzzle – just to check it over.
The only one that might’ve given him trouble was about an American actress – usually he had you to help him with pop culture, but he recalled having the same last name as an actress in Days of Our Lives.
It was interesting that the words “Baby” and “Reid” were right next to each other.
Wait.
Quickly, he calculated the odds that the words “Baby” “Reid” “Due” and “November” were all in the puzzle and when the numbers were put together, they made your anniversary. Spencer just as quickly called you, listening to the phone ringing.
His heart was racing as he waited to see if you answered the phone. “Hey,” your groggy voice came through the receiver.
“Where did you get this crossword puzzle?” He asked you, flipping through the rest of the newspaper for the first time.
You hummed softly, “You’re doing it right now?”
Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the time,” it was just past four in the morning now, making it just past five in the morning in Virginia. “I just thought that…” his voice trailed off. What if it was just a coincidence?
There was silence on your end of the call, and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. You hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d woken you up with his phone call. “You thought what, Spence?”
The teasing lilt in your voice had given you away to him immediately. He knew. Every one of his suspicions were confirmed, “Y/N Reid,” he breathed.
“Spencer Reid,” you countered.
He took a deep breath, “Are you pregnant?”
“Yeah,” you answered simply, with about as much enthusiasm as he expected from you at five in the morning.
It all started to make sense to him. The low blood pressure, the drowsiness, and even the slight caginess when it came to him asking about your doctor’s visit. He swiped away a few stray tears, “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a feeling he was overly used to.
You cleared your throat, “Are you happy?” Nerves clouded your voice, and he could hear you becoming more awake – more alert.
“I am,” he searched aimlessly. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. “I’m so happy,” he told you, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say, I just… God, are you okay?” Dread washed over him, you were alone, sick, and pregnant at home and he was halfway across the country.
Sighing, he heard a ruffling on the other end of the call. “I’m great. I’m exhausted, I had no idea being pregnant was so tiring. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know.” You sighed again, “I’m not making any sense.”
He laughed lightly at your rambling, “You’re making perfect sense. Chances are your energy will return during the second trimester.”
“Don’t get my hopes up.” You paused again for just a moment, “I’m sorry if I scared you. With the whole doctor’s appointment thing. They really are keeping an eye on my blood pressure and whole slew of other things, but they know the root cause.”
A giddy smile grew on his face, “It’s because you’re pregnant.”
A soft hum came through the phone, “It’s because I’m pregnant,” you concurred.
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mrs-weasley-reid · 3 days
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Regrets Sting
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Spencer Reid x bau!reader
Summary: You have always been there for Spencer. Turns out, he's never going to be there for you.
Warning: Angst.
A/N: one of my many drafts... enjoy 👀?
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
You love Dr. Spencer Reid.
As a colleague, a friend, and, well, a respected man.
Granted, you spent most of your days with a small herd of profilers, but you were great at hiding your feelings for him, if you do say so yourself.
You watched him smile awkwardly with love from one woman to the other. Then, there was Maeve. He was in love with her. You didn't need your profiling skills to lead to that conclusion.
It broke your heart when you heard Spencer's plea. It broke your heart when he couldn't even function properly. And your heart broke for him as you watched him fall on his knees, crying over Maeve.
So you chose friendship. You always have, after all.
You became his anchor. His support. His best friend.
You were there for him. You were there when he was ready to open up. You lent him your shoulder. You became his personal napkin, soaking up all his tears in the hopes that it would lessen the pain, even just a little bit. You kept him company, dragging him out of his apartment to bring him anywhere besides the gloom in his empty home.
And without him, or you, knowing, you gave him your heart. You were in love with Dr. Spencer Reid.
It made you feel guilty, but it was inevitable. Who would've known you could fall deeper than you already were? Not even you, apparently.
And yet, you remained the person he could cry on for two years. You pawned him a shoulder for a long, drawn-out two years. Shoving your feelings in the back of your mind as if it wasn't anything important to you.
The deeper you fell for him, the faster the team caught up with your feelings.
JJ figured it out first when she saw the ends of your hair as you walked in Spencer's apartment the first year of Maeve's death. Spencer had been unresponsive to everyone, but not to you. You managed to get him to open his door just by the sound of your footsteps. She knew, then, that he was in good hands.
Emily and Derek noticed how you felt at the same time. You were all on a case, and an officer who awfully looked a lot like Maeve emerged. You were protective of Spencer, knew exactly what his reaction would be. So you had everything he needed and offered to work with him before Hotch could even mention it. Of course, along that was Penelope getting a confirmation about your feelings for Spencer.
Rossi always knew. He always saw the way you would giggle silently to yourself whenever Spencer sassed his statistics into them. One time, he saw you clean Spencer's desk before everyone arrived. And he suspected that you did so a while back before he caught you.
Hotch? He noticed, but he said nothing unless you verbally told him. He thought you weren't ready to openly admit your feelings to the team yet, so who was he to mention it?
And so it goes...
Emily would grin whenever Spencer gave you coffee every morning. Derek would wiggle his eyebrows whenever he caught your gaze on Spencer, then gossip about it with Penelope, which led to her teasing you 'til sundown. Rossi, at times, tried to ease your feelings when they surfaced. Your solid companion whenever you felt down. And Hotch was ever a menace, stern face or not. He would partner you and Spencer up, specifically on the days when your feelings for the genius were oddly stronger.
So, you could only imagine the heartbreak when Spencer arrived one morning with the wrong order of your coffee and a wide smile as he told you that he was going out on a date.
You immediately showed your protest. Of course, Spencer wasn't happy about it. What was worse was he didn't know why. And worse than that was you couldn't tell him why.
Or so you thought.
"I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of this," Spencer followed you as you walked around the bullpen.
"You just met this woman, Spence. I think it's safe to say, I'm worried. You don't even know whether this person is safe." You lied. You had to. He didn't need to know you didn't want him to go on a date because it would break you.
Spencer crossed his arms, knitting his eyebrows as he felt offended by your words. "I'm a profiler and have 187 IQ. I can take care of myself." He stated, earning a couple of stares from the other agents.
You mirrored his actions, "Really?" You challenged, nodding in his direction, specifically to his tie. "You can't even tie the same tie you've been wearing for years properly. Looks like you haven't done laundry too, because, as far as I can remember, you've been wearing that same vest for the past three days. Are you going to wear that on your date?" You raised a brow.
Emily's eyes blew wide, pursing her lips to eat her laughter in. She looked away in hopes that the urge to burst into fits of laughter would subside. Unfortunately, Derek was doing the same thing, and they both snorted at the same time.
"Obviously, I'm not going to wear this on the date. This is clearly not about how homeless I look like. Just be honest with me and tell me why you're so against me being happy." Spencer's voice climbed an octave higher. He was frustrated and confused, and you both knew how much he hated both.
You closed your eyes and sighed deeply. You really had no other choice, do you? You turned around to face Spencer, "I'm in love with you." You confessed, hoarding the entire bullpen's attention.
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head, "Right, nice joke."
"I'm not joking." It offended you a bit. How much he compared your confession to a silly joke.
Spencer's face darkened. He uncrossed his arms and dipped his hands inside his pockets. His next words broke your heart, "I'm very disappointed in you."
Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open as you heard your heart break into pieces, so loud you couldn't get a sense of what more he was saying.
"I came to you for two years to mend. You became my best friend because I thought I could trust you. And now, you're in love with me? Did you help me just so you could gain my affection?"
It stung. The silence that fogged the bullpen was deafening. Emily wanted to claw Spencer's eyes, but JJ was fast to hold her back.
Derek began to move beside you, "Reid, don't—"
Your manic laugh cut him off.
Spencer's eyebrows narrowed, "What?" His voice was far from the gentle one you were used to.
"You know what, Reid?" You scoffed, running your tongue on your lower lip to control your anger. "You're right. I was there for you. I was there to lend you a shoulder to cry on. I was there to keep you company. I made you smile. I even made you laugh! And sure, you're very disappointed in me because, god forbid, I fell for the genius prodigy. With the 187 IQ you're boasting, imagine my disappointment when you can't even figure out that I have feelings for you."
The bullpen fell silently dead as you stared at Spencer with such hatred it made his stomach climb on his throat. He has never seen you so... disgusted.
You couldn't take it. You couldn't look at him in the eyes anymore. You felt like you were going to throw up the longer you stood in the center of it all.
His words insulted you. And it hurt like a bitch.
There were many possibilities on how Spencer could've responded to your feelings, but this was beyond your limit.
You bit your lower lip, hesitant yet eager to spill the next words that came out of your mouth. "For the record, I regret falling in love with you." And with that, you left.
An offer from another unit had been sitting in your inbox. And despite having no plan to leave such a beautiful family of colleagues, you filled out the transfer form. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you needed an out sooner or later. And Spencer's insensitive reaction was just the right motivation you needed.
The Monday after your outburst became the BAU team's worst nightmare.
Spencer immediately noticed your absence. He knew. Of course, he did. You were always the first person to greet him as you spun around in your seat. It was rare for you to be late.
You haven't contacted him for days, either. And he didn't have the guts to do it first. He has been drowning in guilt and couldn't figure out how he'd make it up to you. He realized how unfair he was to you, albeit too late.
Everyone arrived one by one, and there was still no sign of you until Hotch cleared his throat, "Let's start."
Penelope stumbled, hesitating at the sight of your empty seat. "What about..." She softly muttered and yet loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Agent..." Hotch sighed as he spoke your name. He still remembered how you went back to his office while everyone was out for their lunch break and submitted your transfer request. "She officially transferred to unit 4, violent criminal apprehension program... today," Hotch announced, much to his dismay.
Derek's eyebrows knitted, glancing outside the window of the conference room to your desk. "Are you kidding? Her stuff is still here."
Hotch took a deep breath, glancing at Spencer for a moment. "She said they were unnecessary items." He cleared his throat and gestured for Penelope to continue what she was doing.
Regrets stung Spencer like a thousand bees.
Most of the things that clattered on your desk were things that you both shared. His pens that you never gave back. Post-it notes he left for you that had no importance, but you kept them up on the wall of your cubicle. A photo booth picture of the two of you from one of Rossi's Christmas parties. The small bookshelf on top of your desk overflowing with Spencer's annotated books.
"But she didn't even tell us. She didn't say goodbye." Penelope exclaimed. Her eyes matched the frown on her lips. She couldn't help but talk about you. After all, they were your family for many years.
"Could you blame her though?" Emily scoffed, giving Spencer a glare.
Spencer messed up. Big time. And he has no idea how he would make it up to you.
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in-another-april · 2 days
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spencer + textposts that reminded me of him
what a loser 😔😔 (affectionate)
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reidcoffeemoon · 1 day
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Who the fuck he think he is to be this damn hot?
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incognit0slut · 3 days
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hi! could u write a fic about is the first time of the reader with spencer helps her and them made love so romantic *im sorry im so romantic 🙈* :)
I luv all ur writings <3
xoxo
(18+) soft spencer x inexperienced reader. 1.4k
Love was a foreign concept until he met you.
-
Spencer has savored the taste of chocolate, relishing its rich sweetness as it melts on his tongue. He's indulged in the smoothness of honey, its velvety texture spreading across his palate. And amidst his love for the sugar in his coffee—slightly bitter yet abundantly sweet—none of these flavors could compare to the taste of you.
Because you tasted so divine, it was the only way he could describe it. His hands were pressed on the back of your thighs, forcing you to spread your legs further apart as he worked his tongue over you, swallowing every drop of arousal that dripped down to his mouth.
The thought of ever going back to a life without the taste of you seemed absurd now—It was a crime against his senses. So he devoured you eagerly, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, completely lost in the spell of your flavor and scent. He couldn't get enough, and honestly, he didn't want to stop.
He was hooked, addicted to the way you writhed and moaned beneath him; your fingers tangling in his hair, your desperate pleas, and the way your hips bucked against his mouth. And when he sensed you teetering on the edge of release, he doubled his efforts, sucking and licking with a feverish intensity, intent on drawing out every last drop of your bliss.
It wasn't until you gently pushed his head away that Spencer finally drew back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. You couldn't help but giggle at the satisfied grin that spread across his face, his breathless chuckle mirroring your amusement as he crawled over your trembling body.
"That was..." you trailed off, running your hand up his arm as he settled between your legs.
"Good?"
You sighed.
"Amazing. Splendid. Marvelous."
With a soft laugh, he reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Someone's been hitting the thesaurus."
You swatted at his shoulder playfully. "Shut up and kiss me again."
The smile on his face widened into a grin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin before capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss. He pressed himself closer to you and the unmistakable sensation of his cock brushing against your clit made you gasp in surprise.
"You're so perfect," he muttered, slowly grinding his length along your wet folds. He fought the urge to take you right then and there, but your comfort was his priority. He needed to make sure this was what you wanted. "Are you sure you're ready?"
You stifled a sigh. While you appreciated his concern, it was starting to get on your nerves, after all, it was just sex... You might be inexperienced, but how difficult could it be?
"Mmhm," you answered, though your voice came out a pitch higher than you intended. "Of course, I am."
He slightly pulled away. "You don't sound so sure."
You stared at him for a moment before finally letting out a sigh.
"Fine, I'm a little nervous, okay?" Biting your bottom lip, you voiced the question that had been weighing on your mind.
"Is it—" you suddenly sighed, or it was more like a moan that escaped your lips as the underside of his cock continued to rub along your wetness. "Is it... going to hurt?"
His expression softened as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. "It might be uncomfortable at first, but I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassured. "We can stop anytime you want."
"I don't want us to stop."
A surge of warmth flooded him at your words, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Then we won't," he promised, slipping his hand between your body. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
You made a noise in the back of your throat as you watched him bring his cock closer, dragging it through your folds before he thrust his hips forward. The sensation was overwhelming and unfamiliar, and you couldn't help but tense up in response.
"Is this okay?" he asked. You nodded, though your breathing had become erratic. Your eyes fell closed as you started to feel him stretching you, the sensation both strange and uncomfortable. It was like your body was resisting him.
"Honey, I need you to relax," he murmured soothingly. "Can you do that for me?"
You winced when you felt him pushing further, a sharp pang of discomfort shooting through you. "S-Spence... it hurts..."
"I know, honey, I know," he whispered, his thumb continuing its gentle caress against your cheek. "Breathe with me."
You opened your eyes, meeting his reassuring gaze. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart, and he followed suit, matching your rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Hold.
Breathe.
"Good, that's it," he encouraged softly. "Just like that. You're doing great."
Despite the initial discomfort, you focused on relaxing your body, allowing him to stretch your tight walls. He watched your lashes flutter against your cheek before his gaze dropped between you, taking in the stretch of your cunt, slowly allowing him to press deeper and deeper.
He then buried his face in your shoulder as he sheathed himself completely and you stifled a shocked yelp as you clung onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin. You hadn't expected to feel so full, for him to reach that deep.
The room fell quiet, broken only by the steady rhythm of your breathing and the faint rustle of sheets. He waited patiently, his body pressed against yours, allowing you time to adjust. Then, he pressed a lingering kiss on your collarbone, his lips warm against your skin.
"Tell me how it feels," he whispered. You weren't sure you could form proper words, becoming so lost at the feeling of him inside of you. But you managed to take a moment to gather your thoughts.
"It feels... weird," you replied.
He lifted his head from your shoulder. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shook your head, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you stared up at him. He was beautiful like this, pressed against you, cheeks flushed with desire, damp hair tousled on his forehead—his cock finally buried deep inside you.
"You're doing so well for me, you know that?" he said, and the words made you sigh in response as his hips moved slightly back before rolling back into you, causing you to close your eyes with a quiet gasp the same time he let out a groan.
Something shifted after that. The air crackled with electricity. The blood in your veins pumped a little faster and your breathing deepened, each inhale filling your lungs with the heady scent of him. With growing urgency, your hips began to buck forward, eager to meet his slow, deliberate pace.
"Th-That feels good," you couldn't resist whispering to him. The initial pain you had felt had quickly faded, replaced by a rush of pure, hot pleasure that overwhelmed your senses.
"Do you think I can go faster?" He whispered, and you could hear the slick noise as he thrust his cock into your dripping walls. "Can you take it?"
A breathless yes escaped your lips and it was enough for him to get lost in you completely. His lips found their way to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin as he quickened his pace. The sensation was overwhelming, it was too much yet not enough, and all he could do was kiss every inch of your skin and tighten his grip on your body.
Spencer never understood the term making love, for love itself had often felt like a foreign concept to him. But with you in his arms, nothing else seemed more fitting, it was as if you were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.
He now realized that love wasn't something to be analyzed, it wasn’t something his big brain could understand—it was meant to be felt, deeply and profoundly, and his love for you was as natural as the beating of his own heart.
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snixkers · 3 days
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Hands Off
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader
Fluff
For: Anonymous Request
Content Warnings: Reader is drunk, miscommunication, memory loss?, thinks a random man is trying to take her home but not in a creepy way
Summary: A man wants to take you home. Good thing your boyfriend can take care of him.
Author's Note: This trope is sooo cute! I love this sm
Feedback is always welcome!
Requests are OPEN
You stumbled along after going out with your boyfriend’s team for drinks, having consumed a bit too much. Although the dinner he had insisted you eat helped, you were still definitely bordering on wasted.
A man was helping you to your car, his large hands guiding you along as you held onto the wall.
His smile was cute, but you weren’t going to admit that out loud. After all, you had a boyfriend.
Spencer was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. He was kind, smart, and always put your needs first. Even though this stranger was really cute. He almost reminded you of him.
His hands were now brushing your hair out of your face, the heat in your cheek contrasting his cold fingers.
“You can’t do this.” Your voice was whiny and slurred, and you barely recognized it yourself.
He just grinned wider and tilted his head, holding you closer to keep you warm.
“Can’t do what? Make sure you get home safe?”
You shook your head stubbornly, leaning away from him.
“No, I have a boyfriend. I don’t want your hands all over me.”
He just laughed at you, which made your frustration grow. You reached in your pocket, fumbling with your phone as you tried to call your boyfriend.
“He’s an FBI agent. He could arrest you right here.”
The man sighed, watching with amusement as you found Spencer’s contact information and hit ‘call’.
To your surprise, the stranger’s phone happened to go off at the same time.
Huh.
Even weirder, your name popped up when he received the call.
Oh.
A wave of embarrassment spread across your face as you pieced it together, and you groaned, cursing his eidetic memory that would let him relive this moment forever.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone, Spencer.”
He kissed your forehead gently before opening the car door for you and helping you inside.
“Anything for you, stranger.”
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"i'm sad again don't tell my boyfriend" but ur boyfriend is a profiler and already knows u can hide nothing from them
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headkiss · 2 days
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I’ve got a slightly angsty idea for Hotch if you’d like it:
Reader gets into an accident of some kind and ends up in the hospital, and Hotch is worrying out of his mind the whole time because he’s on a case or something, but all is well and it’s fluffy at the end and just love and “don’t ever scare me like that again” and all that good stuff
hiii thank u so much for ur request!!! sorry it’s taken a couple of months to get to </3 i hope u like it!! | 0.6k mentions of a car accident and a teeny tiny injury, and fluff (duh)
“Aaron?”
Hotch knew something was wrong as soon as you’d called in the middle of the day while he was away. You’d always wait for him to call first, to make sure he had the time.
So, the buzz of his phone in his pocket worried him. Even more so when he heard the way your voice shook through the speaker.
He walked away from the rest of the team, leaving their temporary conference room at the local police station and finding somewhere quiet before speaking, “what’s wrong, honey?”
“I’m okay, I promise, but…” you paused to clear your throat, forcing your startled tears back, because you really were okay. “I got in an accident. Nobody’s hurt, but they want to take me to the hospital to make sure I don’t have a concussion or anything.”
Aaron’s heart was pounding, and he had to remind himself that you weren’t badly hurt, that you were right there on the other side of the phone, talking and breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair, wishing he was closer to you.
“Okay,” he says, though it comes out in a breath. “Okay, I’m gonna try to get home.”
“No, Aaron, you really don’t have to. I’m not injured, and they need you there.”
Truthfully, you’d love to have him beside you, his hand tight in yours, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears, his presence calming enough. But you knew what you were getting into as soon as you started dating Hotch, and you’d never expect him to have to choose between you and his job.
“The team is more than capable of doing this without me, I promise. I’m coming to you, alright?”
You know there’s no changing his mind, and selfishly, you don’t want to. “Okay. Thank you.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
He doesn’t want to hang up the phone, doesn’t want to leave room for the worry and fear that’s already creeping up on him, but he does.
The team, of course, is very understanding, reassuring him that they can handle this case and that he should get home, telling him to let you know they all hope you’re okay. He’s driving to the airport within minutes.
It’s only a few hours later that Aaron lands, rushing back to your place straight from his flight after confirming with you that’s where you’d be. His hand shakes the slightest bit as he slips his spare key into your door.
Aaron breathes your name when he sees you on your couch, a small bandage on your cheek. “You said you weren’t hurt.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest as he crosses the room and crouches in front of you, cradling your face in his hand so gently your eyes well up. The shock seems to catch up to you, the relief you didn’t know you needed just by having him near is almost overwhelming.
“I’m not,” you sniffle once and his eyebrows furrow. “I’m not hurt, I promise. It barely even bled. I guess it’s just sinking in now.”
You blink and a tear slips down your cheek, but Hotch is quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, tugging you as close as possible, your cheek buried against his collar, his hand running up and down your back.
You can hear his heart beating in his chest, quicker than usual, but you don’t call him out on it.
“You’re okay,” he says, and Aaron’s not sure who he’s reassuring more.
“My car’s probably totaled,” you mutter against him.
“Cars are replaceable, you aren’t.” He drops his mouth to the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“I was scared,” you admit quietly.
“I know, honey,” he says, shifting so that his cheek is resting atop your head. “I was, too.”
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irndad · 2 days
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
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golden1u5t · 20 hours
Note
heyyy how’s it going ? I LOVE your work 🫶🏻
I have a little request about Spencer arriving to the BAU with a hickey hidden under his collar but Morgan noticed and start teasing him about with the others.
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ꨄ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
ꨄ genre: fluff + suggestiveness
ꨄ summary: spencer’s not very used to having to hide hickeys on his body and you had to leave before he had the chance to ask you how to hide it. doing the best he could, he threw on a shirt with a collar and hoped for the best.
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spencer was sitting at his desk, head ducked down as he worked on his reports for the day. he was finishing up his third report when morgan walked up to his desk, a open folder in his left hand and a cup of coffee in his right.
“hey, kid, what did that note the unsub-“ morgan looked up from the file and looked at spencer, his eyes landing on the deep red bruise poking out of his collar. a smirk immediately broke out on his face. “what is that?”
spencer’s lips turned down, he looked down thinking something was on his shirt but quickly realized that his collar wasn’t in place. his hand shot up to cover his neck but it was too late. “nothing! it’s nothing!”
“since when have you been getting some action, pretty boy? if i remember correctly the last interaction you had with a woman you spilled your coffee on yourself.”morgan snickered and set the file and cup of coffee down on spencer’s desk, he pulled out the chair from the empty desk in front of spencer’s and took a seat.
“i’m not- this is none of your business!” his voice went up a few pitches and a blush was rapidly spreading across his body. spencer’s hands trembled with embarrassment as he tried to fix his collar.
“what have you done to him, morgan? he’s so…red.” garcia walked up behind derek and placed her hands on his shoulders, her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she took in the sight of spencer.
“i haven’t done anything to him but apparently someone else has.” derek reached forward and pulled spencer’s collar to expose the hickey to penelope. spencer swatted his hand away and jerked back, pushing his chair back so he was out of his reach.
“spencer, i didn’t even think you did those types of things!”
“i’m an adult,” spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. he knew he was the youngest on the team and they all saw him as the baby of the group but he didn’t actually think that they thought he was exempt from doing adult things. “i do adult things just like the rest of you.”
there was a grimace painted on garcia and derek’s faces when he said that. derek slapped his hands on his legs and gathered his things, mumbling something about unwanted images in his mind as he walked away.
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spencerreidtv · 2 days
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10x10
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reiding-writing · 2 days
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hello!!!! could i get a continuation fic for "breaking the ice"? this time it could be like after a hard case and reader actively seeks out spencer for comfort (CONGRATS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!!! <33)
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BREAKING DOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈbreɪ.kɪŋ daʊn/
spencer just wants to be there for you when you need him, but you get overwhelmed by his constant worrying and push him away, only to crawl right back into his embrace when you really need it.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader is mean to spencer in the beginning but apologises later, child death, guilt, reader having an emotional breakdown, angst to hurt/comfort
spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.4k | climacteric event
a/n: hit two birds with one stone for this one, god sometimes i forget how much i like writing characters suffering man-
this fic is a continuation of ‘breaking the ice’, but can be read as a stand alone!
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
climacteric event masterlist!!
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You felt like an idiot the first time Spencer caught you crying, failing to compose yourself in the office bathroom for no good reason and looking like an absolute wreck because your brain had just decided it wanted to ruin your day.
There’d been a few times since then when he’d caught you on the brink of a breakdown, but you’d masked them better the more he tried to look into your psyche.
“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” He said those few months ago. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
That was all said and good but it didn’t mean that you wanted him to be there whenever you were overwhelmed or emotional. Sometimes you needed the space to work through your emotions on your own.
“Reid. Leave me alone.” You turn to him sharply, impatience written all over your features.
He’d been asking you about your emotions for the past fifteen minutes after noticing you turn down one of the sugary treats Garcia had brought into the office and using the small amount of favouritism you had towards him as leeway in terms of you not getting angry.
But you had your breaking point even with him.
The harshness spilling from your lips wasn’t something that was ever directed at him, so much so that it actually took him a second to register that it was him you were snapping at and not some invisible person standing behind him.
He didn’t even have time to respond to you. You were already around the corner by the time he’d come back to his senses.
He didn’t bother you after that.
At all.
There was no small talk at the beginning of the office days, no conversations on the jet between cases. He stopped waiting for you before leaving the office and picking you up coffee on days he knew you’d be late.
It threw you back in time to the first few years of working with him. And it seemed that the rest of the team was feeling the inherent ‘nostalgia’ as well, and not in a good way.
The small lingering glances and silent conversations you’d engage in had completely disappeared, and not having Spencer has the bridge of proper communication between you and the rest of the team made merging your psychological profile with the main behavioural profile for your most recent case three steps longer than it needed to be.
Because he was basically refusing to speak to you. Following your instructions to a T.
It didn’t help that it was a child case either. You always seemed to have issues with those. You worked twice as fast, but also made twice as many mistakes, and without someone like Spencer to filter your thoughts through to make sure that they were all objective it meant that your profile was lagging behind.
The child you were looking for died before you found him.
And by the time you’d reached the jet to fly back to Virginia, you’d already internalised his death as your fault.
You kept yourself together through the airport, through boarding and take-off and until you watched your team members fall into a blanket of uneasy sleep as everyone tried to brush off the emotional wreckage that they’d seen over the last few days and detach themselves from the child they’d failed to save.
You were usually pretty good at that part.
Separating yourself from your work came naturally for you, and it was something you were extremely grateful for when getting rest after a particularly hard case. But children were different.
They always were. Especially when it felt like you had a personal hand in their death.
With an internal sigh you accepted your fate of staring at the beige walls of the jet’s cabin until you inevitably couldn’t take it anymore and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for the remainder of the flight.
Now’s about the time where you’d probably distract yourself by starting Spencer on a tangent. Getting him to talk about something that was completely unrelated to the case you’d just sat through to drown out the voices inside of your head and allow you to rest peacefully despite yourself.
But you couldn’t do that right now.
Half because Spencer was already asleep and half because you’d pushed him away.
And now you had to lie in the hole you’d created for yourself.
You didn’t even end up making it into the bathroom.
You curled your legs up into yourself in the corner chair you’d bagged yourself, rested your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your palms as the tears started a steady flow down your cheeks.
It was honestly one of the worst feelings in the world. Curled up into yourself with your hands cupped over your mouth to keep your staggered breathing quiet enough to not wake the other agents sleeping around the cabin.
As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret for pushing Spencer away.
His concern was always genuine, his presence a source of comfort even when you didn't realise you needed it. Now, in the silence of the jet cabin, his absence felt like a void.
Each tear that slipped from your eyes felt like another weight added to the burden you were already carrying.
The familiar ache in your chest threatened to consume you as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over and wake your teammates.
Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, sleep remained unobtainable, lost in the emotional maze of regret and self-blame that you’d managed to lose yourself in to the point where you couldn’t even stand up to give yourself some privacy.
You felt utterly alone, isolated by your own actions in every sense of the word. Each passing minute stretched on for what felt like hours, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your thoughts.
You weren’t quiet enough apparently, and you hear a small shift from the long sofa to your right as your emotional breakdown seemingly catches someone’s ears to the point where they’ve woken up.
“…are-” Spencer’s voice is quiet and mildly groggy as he wakes from the sounds of your internal anguish, and he cuts himself off before getting his whole question out.
You wanted him to leave you alone.
“sorry…” He shifts onto his side until his back is facing you, not wanting to pry if you were uncomfortable with it but also not willing to watch you break down if he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m not okay Reid…” Your words are caught in between stunted breaths and shaking movements. “I need help-”
Your words sent an ache right through his heart that made him think it was going to split in two. He can hear the tremor in your voice, the shakiness in your tone as you force yourself to be vulnerable with him. And it makes him want to join you in a fit of tears.
If you were actively reaching out like this, it had to be bad.
“I know…” His voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly turns his body, still hesitant to look you in the eyes but wanting to see your expression.
He doesn’t know if you want comfort or advice, but he knows which he’d prefer to give as his eyes land on your face and take in the sight of you, curled up into yourself with tear stains tracking down your cheeks in the cabin’s low lighting.
“But I don’t know how to…” The silence is the worst part of the conversation from his end of things – a silence that was deafeningly loud. His eyes dart between the cabin door and you.
But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up, or get closer. He just stays put.
He doesn’t know what to do.
“Tell me how to help you…”
“I don’t-” You barely get the chance to start speaking before your crying renders you effectively mute, your throat filled with sobs that leave your mouth into the palm of your hand as you attempt to silence yourself and not ruin anyone else’s slumber.
He can see your fingers trembling as you hold back the noise. From across the aisle, Spencer watches the way you shake until his stomach ties in a knot just from seeing you distressed.
But there’s nothing he can do.
“Can I try something?” He murmurs his words softly, like he’s afraid of frightening you further as he pulls himself upright on the couch seat to plant his feet firmly on the floor.
You answer him with a nod, too unstable to even think about trying to answer him verbally under the threat of breaking down further.
He pads across the aisle deftly, taking a seat in the chair beside your own and deftly bringing his arm across the back of your shoulders to rub lines against your back.
It’s a somewhat pathetic pat, a mix of fatigue and hesitation mixing in his movements and making his attempt at comforting you feel clumsy and mildly awkward.
But he was trying, and that was the main point.
The awkwardness really held no ground under your inherent need to just feel comforted in the moment, and you take no note of it as you turn your head into Spencer’s shoulder with your hand still cupped over your mouth as you tremble under his arms.
His hand becomes a little more confident once you accept his attempts.
He didn’t know how to help you.
He didn’t know how to soothe you.
And the thought of not being able to save you from yourself was tearing him up inside.
But the least he could do was this.
Spencer’s touch is gentle as he places his other hand onto the back of your head, fingers brushing along your hairline as he encourages you further into his embrace.
There’s nothing he should say right now, nothing he could say right now.
Whatever would come from him would be a string of false assurances he wasn’t sure he would even believe himself.
Instead, he settles for the soft touches, his gentle fingers and trying to soften your breathless sobs into something less heartwrenching.
It felt mildly awkward to be the source of someone else’s comfort — he’d usually been on the receiving end of it — but it was working, and he could slowly feel your shoulders relax under his hands, your sobs reducing to small sniffles as you calmed under Spencer’s influence.
“Breathe…” He whispered the words quietly against the top of your head, making a show of taking deep breaths that you could feel against his chest as a silent instruction for you to mirror.
The rise and fall of his chest underneath your hand was crucial in helping you slowly regulate your breathing to match his, the remnants of sniffles that caught in your throat slowly dissipating until they were non-existent.
The peak of your distress slowly eludes you as you sink down to a gradual calm, and the harsh beating of your heart against your sternum was slowly regulating itself as well until it was soft enough that it didn’t ring in your ears.
Spencer remains quiet as he continues to rub gentle lines over your spine. If he kept you him his grasp like this for long enough, your fatigue might catch up to you and make you fall asleep. And that would be alright with him.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you for trying to help me,” You air out your half-apology once you’re confident enough that speaking won’t send you down another spiral, your words muffled slightly against his shirt.
It’s a sudden break to the small pocket of silence you’d created, and Spencer’s hand pauses for a fleeting second before continuing to trace its path over your back. “You were stressed and I pushed a limit, it was understandable…”
He wouldn’t lie to you and say that everything was alright and he didn’t take it personally. It did hurt for you to be so harsh to him, but hearing you try to apologise made it feel a little better at least.
“I just wanted to help…”
“I know…” You turn your head further into his shoulder until your face is hidden in the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry,”
Your apology, voiced properly this time, elicited a small sigh from his lips, and he adjusted his arm around you to accommodate the new position you were in.
The feeling of somebody leaning on him, relying on him so much for comfort was a rather novel experience. He liked his distance, his personal space, and his preference for not being touched always trumped anything else. But this was different.
“Don’t apologise…” Spencer shakes his head against yours as he murmurs out his words. “Just rest…”
You give him a small hum as your only indication of acknowledging his suggestion, letting out a small yawn into his neck as the consequences of your emotional breakdown catch up to you and riddle your body with fatigue.
You were practically melting into him by now, your weight resting against his side, but Spencer wasn’t complaining.
It made you seem so vulnerable, so small and relaxed and different from how you usually presented yourself to the world.
Once your yawn reached his ears he knew your body was preparing to slip into unconsciousness.
But he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you.
He’d seen you fall asleep before; he’d seen the way your mouth had parted slightly right before a small snore left your lips, the delicate rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evened out and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you fell into a dream.
He didn’t want to interrupt his comfort by moving away. So he didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hold you for a little bit longer.
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sarcasm-and-stiles · 3 days
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Spencer : Time for plan G.
Y/N: Don’t you mean plan B?
Spencer : No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties.
Emily: What about plan D?
Spencer : Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.
JJ: What about plan E?
Spencer : I’m hoping not to use it. Derek dies in plan E.
Y/N: I like plan E.
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