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#spencer reid x awkward reader
mariasont · 23 days
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Hello baby borl can you write a spencer reid x reader where they are kind of awkward but they still are relatively outgoing but they never EVER make the first move so they just vaguely flirt with him but very awkwardly like... maybe they have an obscure favorite animal and they tell him about it and then they compare him to it and its funny bc its like.. a slug or a spider (an animal that many ppl dont like and dont find attractive)
Arachnophobia - S.R
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a/n: i dont know if baby borl was a misspelling or not but i am obsessed with it and i will now be referring to everyone as that from this point forward
ALSO thank you so much for the request i <3 an awkward reader truly
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x reader
warnings: spider! ah!, reader climbing on a chair like that's a little dramatic if you ask me, spencer being a little shit, fluffy fluff, cuties being awkward, comparing spencer to a female spider!
wc: 0.9k
"Oh my god!"
You didn't mean for your scream to be as loud as it was, it was more instinctive than anything, not having enough time to stifle it as you hopped upon the closest desk chair. Unfortunately for you, that chair happened to belong to the object of your affection—Spencer Reid, resident boy genius and pretty boy.
Pretty boy was the understatement of the century. He was the embodiment of aesthetic perfection in your eyes, a vision of loveliness that seemed almost otherworldly.
But that all receded to the edges of your brain, your gaze laser focused on the teeny tiny crawler scuttling across the carpeted floor beneath you.
"Is there a reason you're standing on my chair?"
Spencer's eyes were trained on your shoes, a frown forming as he undoubtedly considered the microbial invasion spreading from your soles to his well-maintained seat.
You couldn't say anything, mouth snapped shut as you just pointed to the hairy thing. He quirked an eyebrow, following your gesture before a soft chuckle escaped him, head shaking in the process.
You narrowed your eyes, not finding the same humor in the situation as he was. "Spencer, it's not funny. Get it please?"
"Well since you asked so nicely." He moved towards a box of tissues on his desk. But you grasped his wrist to stop him, your balance faltering, and a tiny squeal escaped you as you teetered on the edge of the chair.
His hold on your hip was immediate, the closest thing in order to stabilize you is how you rationalized it, saving you from an imminent face-to-floor meeting.
"Sorry," you said sheepishly, a low buzz spreading from your head to the spot where his hand enclosed around. "Don't kill it."
He gave you a pointed look, but then grabbed a plastic cup by the water cooler. You missed his hands on you the second he was gone.
He crouched down to where the spider was crawling around, carefully shoveling it into the cup.
"Don't hurt its legs!"
"I feel like there is a lot of protesting coming from someone who can't even put their feet on the ground right now."
That shut you up. A soft pout found its way to your lips as you folded your arms defensively. His smirk grew at the sight, and you couldn't stop the delightful warmth that bubbled up inside your chest, sticky and potent.
"Once the spider is at a safe distance then I'll come down," you said with a shrug.
He expertly secured the paper over the clear cup's mouth, trapping the spider inside. "All clear."
You watched his hands warily, your lips forming a tight line as you stayed put, eliciting an exasperated eye roll from him. 
"It's not going to hurt you."
"You don't know that."
He angled the cup towards the light, inspecting the bug with a squint. 
"It's unlikely you'll ever be bitten by a spider. They aren't interested in humans. They don't seek us out like mosquitoes or ticks do." He moved the cup in your direction. "This is just a common house spider, known scientifically as Parasteatoda tepidariorum. Completely harmless."
"It doesn't look completely harmless to me," you countered, wrinkling your nose and leaning back.
You almost lost your balance. Again. His hands found your waist. Again.
"How about you come down now?"
"Right, sorry I know you're probably freaking out about my outdoor shoes on your chair."
His hand moved to grab yours as you stepped down. "I'm more concerned about the potential of you cracking your skull."
You beamed, a wide smile lighting up your features as you planted your feet firmly on the carpet. "Eh, I'm pretty much indestructible."
"Tell that to the spider."
You tried to glare at him, but you were sure it came off softer around than edges than you intended, because you weren't really annoyed. Spencer's ease in teasing you was a recent development, it had taken ages to get to this point. The roles used to be reserved, but then you fell in love with him, and now every word you spoke had been nothing but overthought and stiff.
"He is a little cute actually." You stepped closer, gingerly at that, maintaining a safe distance just in case Spencer decided to pull any funny business.
"Well, he's a she."
"Oh, how impolite of me," you said, as you crouched down to bring yourself face-to-face with the spider.
"Interestingly, the female common house spiders are known for its problem-solving abilities when capturing prey. If the first attempt doesn't work, it will try different strategies, which shows a level of adaptability and intelligence."
"Awh, she's kind of like you, isn't she?"
You wanted to slap a hand over your face. You sounded like an idiot. His eyes narrowed, and then that charming little smile broke through, a little uneven, making him all the more appealing.
"That feels offensive."
You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes crinkling in response. "It's not, I swear, that was supposed to be a compliment."
"I'd be careful with those compliments, wouldn't want to inflate my ego too much."
Maybe tomorrow you'd tell him how you feel. Probably not.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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Spencer reid x nurse!fem reader. They are already dating but she hasn’t met the team or they meet for the first time( whatever u like best). He gets injured while on a local case and she stiches him up while they flirt.
“you need to stop putting yourself in the line of fire.” “well that’s kinda my job.”
sewing the sterile needle as gently as possible through the gash at spencer’s temple, a blue glove pushing bits of his growing curls away. darting your eyes to his for a second to stare into his puppy eyes so you could say, “no it’s not. you’re a consultant mostly and i would like you to keep that big brain intact.”
“well yeah, but when they seem jumpy with the guns that’s usually when i step in.” moving his head a bit and you had to switch from his hair to his chin, not wanting him to mess with the few stitches. “sorry,” apologizing when he noticed.
“i love how brave you are, but please for my sanity, try to do this less. i don’t want to keep stitching my pretty boy together.” finishing your sentence with a cut to the thread then setting the pliers down and taking some bandages to finish the look.
“i’m almost done with my shift so if you want you can stay here. we could get some takeout on the way home and i can be your sexy nurse who brings you back to full strength.” shimming your shoulders and wiggling your brows. it brought a smile and light giggles from spencer, your heart grew two sizes at the sight and sound.
“i’d like nothing more.” his eyes bore into your soul and you couldn’t help as you leaned forward to press a small kiss beside his wound. “to heal you faster.” and then you thought, screw it, and gave your boyfriend a well-deserved kiss. you rested a hand on his shoulder and one of his went to your neck.
“reid are you ready to- oh. i’m sorry, am i interrupting?” you both pulled away, turning at the voice to see two people standing at the threshold. a tall man in a well-pressed suit and a shorter woman dressed in a deep red shirt beside him. they both eyed you, possibly analyzing your face. well this wasn't how you planned to meet spencer's coworkers for the first time.
"hotch, emily. this is my girlfriend." "hi." feeling incredibly awkward after they walked in to see you kissing someone, who technically, was your patient. your boss would have a field day if they heard about this.
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strawbeerossi · 8 months
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The Ballad Of Dr. Reid
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.
Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial
Word Count: 1.9K
Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking. 
In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.
He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.
You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.
It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips. 
What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.
His hands on-
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you. 
“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today. 
The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.
There was no clean getaway.
“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”
Fuck.
Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”
“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.” 
He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class. 
Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university. 
“Really?” 
“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke. 
There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.” 
The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment. 
“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his. 
You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.
The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down. 
“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point. 
The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips. 
“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.
This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut. 
“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”
“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.
His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.
“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating. 
With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open. 
“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded. 
“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan. 
As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.
There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.
Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.
Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did. 
As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”
“Deal.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 6 days
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slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 
Spencer doesn’t respond. 
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks. 
You do it again. 
Another squeak. 
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding. 
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 
“You’d be surprised.” 
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 
But you don’t bring those up. 
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?” 
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
1K notes · View notes
kisses4reid · 14 days
Text
criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.
genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader
wc - 1.2k
warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.
a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?
request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!
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Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.
Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.
Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.
“Hi Spencer.”
“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.
You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.
“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”
Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.
You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.
“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,
“Yes? What’s wrong?”
“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”
His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.
“What’s going on here?”
“Your agent has been seen…”
You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.
There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.
You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.
Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.
Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.
“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“
“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.
Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.
And he did.
“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“
“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.
Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.
“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“
“There’s no way you read our-“
“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”
And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.
The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.
“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”
He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.
As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”
You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”
He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.
“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.
“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“
Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.
“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”
Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.
taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
2K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 28 days
Note
So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)
A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!
W/C: 2.1k
Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.
Masterlist
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The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 
Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 
You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 
Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 
“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.
“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 
“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”
“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 
“Do you… need a haircut?” 
“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 
You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 
“Well, are you coming in?” 
“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 
“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 
He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 
You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 
He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 
And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 
You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 
“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 
“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 
He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 
After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 
You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 
You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 
For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 
De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 
This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 
It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 
It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 
If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 
It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 
“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 
“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 
And he hadn't paid. 
It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 
But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 
Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 
You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 
“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 
He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 
“Hi.” 
“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 
“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 
“With haircuts?” 
“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 
“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 
“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 
“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 
“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 
“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 
You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 
His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 
When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 
“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 
“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 
“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 
“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 
Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 
“But what kind of haircut?” 
“What kind?” 
You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 
“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 
You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 
“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 
He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 
Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 
You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 
He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 
“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 
He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 
“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 
“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 
You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 
“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 
“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 
“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 
“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 
“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 
He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 
No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 
Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 
The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 
“Hi.” 
“Spencer! You're back.” 
He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 
“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 
You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 
“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 
The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 
“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 
“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 
“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 
“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 
“The hospital?” 
“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”
“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 
You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 
“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 
“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 
The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 
Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 
You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 
“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 
He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 
“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 
“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 
“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 
He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 
“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 
He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 
1K notes · View notes
ipseitydelrey · 2 months
Text
your lips, my lips ☆ s. reid
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ship sub!spencer reid x fem!reader
content/warnings smutty smut (mdni 18+), mutual masturbation, mommy kink, accidental voyeurism, he sounds like a slut you can’t blame yourself
word count 2.5k
summary after spencer returns home early from a case, you come back home after work to find him in an incredibly compromised position.
a/n ignore the accidental hiatus, but hi !! im probably not going to be able to post at all in may bc im going to be in europe for the entire month. i’m posting this before going in a cave so…enjoy this as a treat!
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To put it briefly, Spencer was…awkward.
That’s not to discredit him, though. You can tell that he loves the team and you (especially you). Although he’s less awkward around people he trusts and has known for longer, he still can’t really speak up for what he wants.
And the poor boy is just so touch starved. It’s clear he’s practically clueless when it comes to other forms of intimacy aside from sympathetic hugs to friends or victims in a case. Hell, it even took a month since you started dating for Spencer to be comfortable huddling next to you on the couch; it took even longer for him to be fine with sharing the same bed.
You had barely done anything sexual yet. The closest you had probably gotten to something intimate like that with him was him involuntarily jutting his hips up into your ass when you were making out on the couch. You had hoped that he would continue to do that, especially with how you could feel his hardness pressing up against your core, but he got so flustered and started stammering out high-pitched apologies before moving away and retreating into the bathroom. You imagined that he probably took care of it, but knowing him, maybe he doesn’t jerk off.
You went with that assumption for a while since you — and especially him — hadn’t initiated anything potentially steamy. For him, makeout sessions were enough and although you wanted more, you were okay with indulging in him. You figured that with how touch starved he was, you should take it slow before moving on.
You got to leave work early, and you’re usually glad when that happens but today you’re especially happy because Spencer had just gotten back from a successful case a couple hours ago. When he landed, he immediately texted you, letting you know where he was. When you left your workplace, you had forgotten to text him that you’ll be home earlier than expected, but you’re sure that he wouldn’t mind.
After all, he’s probably just as excited to see you, if not more.
You don’t call out to him when you unlock and open the apartment door; he should hear that you’re home with the locking of the door and the tossing of the keys, as well as the rustle of your coat as you take it off and hang it up.
It’s quiet, but that isn’t really saying anything since it usually is. But you’d figured that he’d meet you at the doorway, which he didn’t.
Odd.
You’re just about to call out to him when you hear a peculiar and out-of-place sound: a moan.
Although it startles you a bit, you think that it was probably the neighbours; that doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense consdiering it’s coming from inside the apartment, but it’s more believable than…
Then you hear another one, and this time you can finally pinpoint its location. It sounds like it’s coming from the bedroom. Spencer? It’s not impossible, but you had just figured that he wouldn’t be the type to pleasure himself, especially with those sorts of reactions.
You slowly make your way towards the room in question, seeing that the door is slightly ajar, leaving a sliver for you to peer in.
What you find is a heavenly sight: Spencer, fully unclothed, splayed across the bed with his length in his fist. His pace is slow, but it’s still enough for him to whimper and moan quite audibly. His other hand is gripping tightly onto the sheets as his head pushes back against a pillow.
It’s perverted, but you feel as if you can’t tear yourself away from watching. At this point, you start to wonder if he knows you’re here or if he even heard you come into the apartment. You struggle to keep quiet as your panties grow damp, and you end up biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning at the sight.
The sound of his fist moving up and down his leaking cock is lewd, his precum dribbling down and even slightly coating his hand.
“o-oh m-mommy—” Him saying that is your breaking point, and you push the door open and enter the room.
He finally notices you and he pulls the sheets he was just grasping onto for dear life up to cover his throbbing dick. You were expecting him to do that; although what he was just doing was insanely hot, he’s still shy, even around you.
He looks away from you, clearly embarrassed he was caught. “Uh, I was— I— ah…” he attempts to explain himself but it leads nowhere. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispers, sounding defeated.
“Why are you sorry?” It’s not a needed question; you know exactly why he thinks so. You move to sit on the edge of the bed as he moves away, still having the sheets pulled up to cover himself. He stammers, but no words come out. He’s so flustered and red in his cheeks, you fear he’s about to pop.
He squirms in his position slightly while a tiny noise that you can barely hear escapes from his lips. A noise of discomfort, you recognize quickly, but you’re not sure if it’s because you just caught him in a private moment or if it’s because his cock is starting to get achy from the lack of stimulation.
“Baby,” you say in a more serious tone, leaning into the notion of his fantasy of you as his mommy, “why are you sorry?”
You stare at him, though you wish he could return your gaze. “Y-You probably feel…uncomfortable b-because—”
Softly, you shush him, holding a finger up against his lips, and you smile. “I’m not uncomfortable,” you assure him.
“You’re not?” he asks, his words vibrating against your index.
You shake your head as you pull your finger away from his lips, instead moving to grab his chin with a soft grip. His cheeks squish against your fingers softly, making his lips look even more plush and kissable. You push your lips against his gently, though it’s obvious that he’s eager from the way he pushes against your mouth to chase the kiss.
The way he whines when you pull away from him is so cute, you feel as if you want to give in to his need to have you closer to him. But he can tell that you want to do something else to satisfy him, so Spencer quiets down. Your hand, however, remains firmly yet softly gripping his jaw.
You look down at the sheets covering his lower half, his erection not-so-subtlety poking the thin fabric, and you glance back up at him. “Do you want me to…” you trail off before looking down at his boner again.
In all honesty, it takes Spencer a good second or two before he gets what you meant by that offer. “U-uh, well, ah…” he stutters. You’re not exactly sure what he wants and frankly neither is he. Based on his previous experiences with intimacy, you decide to not give him a blowjob, or even a handjob.
You both sit there in silence; you can practically cut the tension in the room with a knife. As you think of what to do — since you don’t just want to ignore it, nor do you want to leave him unsatisfied and awkward — Spencer squirms uncomfortably, shifting ever so slightly. His thighs accidentally clench together, squeezing his erection under the blanket, causing him to whimper softly. He silently hopes that you didn’t catch that noise he made, but you did…and it gave you an idea; one that will satisfy both of your urges.
“Do you wanna keep going?” You ask. He would probably much rather do this himself, although you don’t know how he would feel if he were to masturbate right in front of you.
He hesitates for a second, but he does nod shyly. You notice how he’s not meeting your gaze with his own, avoiding eye contact almost entirely. Instead, he’s looking in the direction of your waist.
Without informing him, you stand up and your hands quickly find their way to the buttons on your pants undoing them. Spencer watches with an air of anticipation and slight anxiety as you pull your pants down, a bit hastily and it definitely shows just how eager you are at this moment. Your underwear is certainly damp with how much this situation has you turned on and he can see it clearly too. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression as he sees the wetness, whether he’s nervous or intrigued, until you see him lick his lips — a motion that he only does when he’s excited.
At last, you peel off your soaked panties, but you keep your eyes on his face, wanting to see his reaction at seeing you half-naked. Sure, he’s seen you in your bra and panties before, but that was never sexual and only when you were changing clothes in front of him. He’s always looked away, the gentleman that he is, but he couldn’t resist taking a peek or two at your near-unclothed state. Just like how now, where he can see your bare pussy, glistening and wet, he just can’t resist staring.
He doesn’t mind it; no, not at all. In fact, it’s just making him even more excited, to the point where he slightly pulls down the sheets that are covering his dick — not enough to actually show his arousal, but enough to clearly see his happy trail, which has you salivating.
You get back on the bed, not bothering to take your shirt off as well. You just want to get started already, but you think it would be better if you know he’s comfortable with this whole situation first.
“Is this okay?” you ask, alluding to your nakedness as your thighs are slightly spread, giving him a nice view of your cunt.
He swallows and nods feverishly as his gaze continues to bore into your pussy; all of his attention seems to be focused there, which amuses you.
Deciding to take the initiative, your hand makes its way towards your core. You dip the tips of your fingers in your wet folds, collecting some of the slick and bringing it up to your clit, where you start to gently rub it in small and slow circles.
You hear Spencer’s breath hitch as you do this. It’s like you’re subtly encouraging him to do the same thing and start masturbating again, which is exactly what you’re going for.
He ends up pulling the covers off his pelvis completely, allowing you to see his cock-filled hand. You bite your lip at the sight of him starting to slowly stroke his length again, although timidly, as if he’s being judged. You’re not doing that, of course; you wouldn’t dare judge him for doing something so pleasing in front of you.
He keeps avoiding your gaze so you lean forward as you continue to massage your clit gently and you bring your other hand to tilt his head up by his chin to look at you. The eye contact you both have now is both awkward yet erotic. You’re not really doing anything with each other, you’re just two people touching themselves in front of the other.
A couple minutes into this shared experience, Spencer is starting to get more confident and less self-conscious. His strokes are getting longer and faster, making him produce more noises from his throat; mostly small whimpers with the occasional moan but by god, those small moans just get you going. You end up quickening your pace too and you let yourself make tiny whines too.
Eventually, your fingers move from your clit and back down to your folds, where you insert a finger into your cunt. The sound that falls from your lips after you do so is more motivation for Spencer to speed up again. You thrust your finger in and out at the same pace as his hand and you’re sure you both are imagining something more intimate at this point.
You add a second finger and then later on a third and now, a few minutes later, you’re both moving in sync and moaning up a storm. His moans are louder though, but you don’t mind at all. They just give you more reason to speed up and keep going.
Nearing the end, you’re wondering who’s going to cum first. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Spencer did so before you since he’s been jerking off for longer than you have but with the way the pleasure is building up in your stomach, you’re not entirely sure anymore; your mind is just focused on the intense pleasure and nothing else.
“O-oh god…” you hear him whine. Now you know who is going to finish first.
“You gonna cum, baby?” It takes you some effort to ask that question, especially since for the past ten or so minutes, you’ve just been touching yourselves without even talking.
“Mhm,” he hums in response as he nods. His hand is going at such a quick pace that you can clearly hear how his precum-coated palm is moving up and down his cock. “S’much, I…”
“It’s okay, honey,” you stammer out. Then, in your pleasure-fueled haze, an idea forms in your head. “You can cum. Cum for mommy~”
The use of that nickname for you really gets him going and he can no longer hold himself back. “M-mommy!” he cries out with a gasp for air as cum spurts out of the tip of his cock. He lets his head hang back and his eyelids flutter as his orgasm hits him and it’s beautiful for you to watch. It only motivates you to speed up even more, wanting to reach your peak as fast as possible. You probably shouldn’t rush it to savor the moment but in this case, rushing is fine to you.
After his intense orgasm, Spencer watches with bated breath as you cum. Your hips rock forward, practically riding your own fingers while your back arches and your murmurs grow incoherent. If he wasn’t tired, Spencer is pretty sure that he would be turned on again immediately just from watching you finger yourself. He is almost positive that you’re thinking of riding him instead of your fingers, and he would be correct in that assessment.
The pleasure slowly dissipates until you’re left with the incredibly awkward feeling of having just jerked off in front of your boyfriend. Both of you aren’t really sure what to say or what to do considering this was technically your first shared sexual experience since you had started dating.
“Um—” “So—” you both say at the same time. You don’t know how to move forward in a gracious manner, so you shyly get off the bed and put your underwear and pants back on. He still sits in the bedsheets, which are slightly damp from the sweat accumulated from the experience.
He moves towards the edge of the bed — towards you — and sits up straight, trying not to feel embarrassed that he’s still naked. And even though he felt uncomfortable about being touched while nude prior, he plants his lips on yours.
You weren’t expecting this but it’s a welcome surprise, as you chase his kiss with all the energy you have left; which isn’t a lot, but is enough. He breaks from the kiss, but leaves his forehead against yours as he looks at you like a dog.
“Thank you, mommy.”
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hopefully it wasn’t that bad <3 join the taglist
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pathologicalreid · 1 month
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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
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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.
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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.
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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
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foxy-eva · 1 month
Text
Date? Date!
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Summary: Reader asks Spencer if he wants a date (the food item). Miscommunication ensues. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: food mentions, miscommunication, awkwardness 
Word count: 700
Masterlist
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Early into your career at the FBI you learned how important it was to take good care of yourself. Long and irregular work hours made it difficult to nourish your body, so you made it a habit to always pack some healthy snacks.
Recently you discovered your love for dates - a fruit packed with fiber and potassium while satiating your sweet tooth. 
You grabbed a small container from your bag while your eyes landed on your favorite coworker. Months ago you noticed that his main source of energy was coffee and refined sugar, so without thinking too much about it, you decided to offer him an alternative. 
“Date?” You asked once Spencer found your eyes. 
“Wh…what?” He muttered. “You’re asking me… just like that?” 
His reaction was a little confusing but it wasn't the first time that the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid left you a bit puzzled. 
"Yeah, of course! I think it’ll be good for you!” You chirped to encourage him. 
“You think?” His mouth stayed agape after those words made it past his lips. 
You raised your eyebrows at him and withdrew your offer, “You obviously don’t have to. You can just say no.”
“No, no, it’s not that! I just.. I have never been… I mean… I have never really… had a date?” He muttered.
“Really? That's hard to believe.” You couldn't hide the surprised tone in your voice. Dates were pretty popular, you had never met anyone who hadn’t tried one.
“It’s true…,” he mumbled.  
“Maybe it’s time for you to try it!” 
"I... have thought about it. A lot actually." Spencer whispered while his eyes dropped to the floor. "With you specifically"
At this point you definitely couldn't hide your confusion anymore. You took one date out of the plastic container to look at it before you said, "You have thought about eating dates with me?" 
When your eyes met his again you noticed the color draining from his face. The already pale doctor suddenly looked like he had seen a ghost. 
“You uhm… you… of course… you were talking about dates,” he stammered.
“Yes? What were you tal–” You stopped mid sentence when you realized. 
Oh.
Oh.
Spencer must have thought you were asking him out. 
Now his reaction made a lot more sense. 
Before you could say anything, Spencer quickly got up to leave the room. You could only imagine how embarrassed he must have been right then. Your heart began aching at the thought of hurting the person you cared so deeply about. 
The truth was that you were hoping for him to ask you out for months now. It was hard to tell if he actually liked you too, so you never had the courage to ask him yourself. 
It seemed like the cat was out of the bag now and it was your chance to finally ask him out for real. 
“Spencer!” You called out his name as you ran after him. “Wait, please!”
To your surprise he slowed down, coming to a halt right before he reached the elevators. 
“I just want to go catch some air,” he explained with a fake smile on his face. 
“Please don’t be embarrassed,” you said with a soft voice. “It was just a little misunderstanding.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s fine, really!” He lied while pressing the button of the elevators. 
“It’s true that I was just offering you a date, but…” you paused for a moment, noticing his eyes getting bigger. 
You almost got lost in the warm amber that were his irises. It was hard to actually speak the words you so clearly wanted to say. But you knew it was now or never. 
“... But I would really like to go out with you. On an actual date,” you confessed. 
The features of Spencer's face suddenly softened and it seemed like relief washed over him. 
“You do?” He wanted to make sure. 
“Yeah, I really do,” you confirmed.
A wide smile appeared on his face. “I would really like that, too. Maybe we could go out for dinner someday.”
“Dinner sounds a lot better than just eating dates together,” you laughed. 
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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rreids · 2 months
Text
PRACTICE RUN • S. REID X READER
fluff, based on a scene at the end of 1 x 04 , going on a platonic date with spencer (for him to know what it's like) that becomes very real, kissing, silly little facts (again, very loosely verified, read everything i say ever with a grain of salt), ~1.3k
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“Spence?” You ask, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 10:30, everyone had left the BAU around 8 after finishing up paperwork on the latest case. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, exactly,” Spencer mumbles. “You know how I went to that baseball game with JJ? Last week?”
”Yeah. You have fun?”
”Yeah. I mean, I guess.” He sighs. “I think Gideon meant for me to ask her out like a date,”
”Did you want it to be a date?” You sit up slowly, tugging your blanket over your knees and putting your phone on speaker so you can rest your cheek on your propped legs.
”No.” He pauses. “But I want to know how to ask someone out. In case I ever want to in the future.”
”Well,” you stretch and yawn a little. “Do you want me to explain it?”
”Would you?” You can perfectly imagine the way his face lights up from the way his voice pitches up alone.
”Of course, Spence,” you smile. “The best thing to do is make your intentions clear. Either have established that you like them, or make it clear when you ask. Try to ask them to do something, just the two of you, that is a shared interest between you two.”
He hums.
”For example, you like film viewings and stuff, right?” He mumbles a soft agreement. “So, it could be something like ‘Hey, I got tickets for this movie on — and then whatever day —, I was thinking the two of us could go. I’d like to see it with you.’”
”That easy?”
”That easy. Sometimes I like to say ‘it’s a date,’ when they agree, just to make sure they’re clear on my intentions. Never a bad idea to be explicit in your communication.”
”You go on a lot?” He asks curiously. “Of dates, I mean. You said that’s something you like to say,”
”Not recently, but in college,” you smile softly. “Not everyone was 16 when they were in higher education,”
Spencer chuckles. “You’re right. Are they any… fun?”
”You don’t know?”
”No one ever asked me out. Or maybe they did. I’m not good at that type of stuff. What do people even do on dates?”
”Talk,” you chuckle. “Enjoy one another’s company. Really, it’s just any old hangout with different emotions.”
Spencer sighs, voice petulant when he speaks again. “Emotions are confusing,”
”I have an idea,”
“What is it?”
”How about I take you on a practice run date? So you know what it’s like.”
”Isn’t that weird?”
”If you make it weird,” you tease. “It’s up to you. We’ll treat it like a date but go as friends, just so you can get used to that type of environment and its expectations,”
Spencer clicks his tongue, and you picture him pursing his lips in contemplation. “You promise I won’t feel weird?”
”I can’t control your emotions, Spence, but I promise to treat you like normal.”
He’s silent for a bit. “Okay.”
“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. “I’ll plan everything. Just tell me if you change your mind,”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
When you and Spencer finally have time, it’s when you’re off work for a day after a rough week in Montana. He’s dressed pretty normally, but he took more time than normal to try to tame his hair, and he’s fidgeting with the cuffed sleeves of his undershirt as you walk up.
“Spencer,” you call and he looks up, smiling nervously. “You ready?”
“What exactly should I be ready for?”
“I decided we should go to an aquarium. That okay?”
“We have a shared interest in fish?” He asks, incredulous, recalling you saying a date had to be something both parties liked. “It’s fish.”
“The information,” you poke his side. “You like learning. It’s cool, I promise. And you can even point at the ugly fish and say they look like me.”
Spencer tilts his head. “Why would I do that? You’re not ugly.”
You smile, unsure of how to respond. “Come on.”
He listens, and it’s a little awkward, him silent and studying you. There’s so much tension that you’re unexpectedly and uncharacteristically a little quiet, looking at the way the cyan lights in the tanks flicker and reflect in his eyes, making them into inky pools of brown, black, and bluesin the low lighting.
You realize he looks pretty… cute.
“Spencer,” you whisper, snapping him from his laser focus on a sign about knobbed whelks. “You’re meant to talk to me.”
“Sorry,” he whispers back. “I just—”
“Think they’re cool?” You ask lightly.
“Yeah.”
“You want to go see the otters?” You question, grabbing his hand in yours. “They hold hands like this when they’re asleep, so they don’t drift apart and lose each other.”
He stares down at your hand, mouth dropped a little as you dragged him. “Is that why you’re holding mine? So I don’t get lost or separated from you.”
“Yeah.” You grin at him and he smiles back, letting you pull him along.
The otters are cute, and he’s fascinated by them. “I never knew they were so vicious…” he trails off as he reads the sign, looking at one with big round eyes that stares at him through the glass.
“Maybe we can profile our next unsub as an otter.”
Spencer snorts. “Yeah, whenever we get a killer who throws their victims on rocks repeatedly. That’d be a signature.”
You smile and look at his profile in the glowing light.
“What?” He asks, shying from the intensity of your gaze.
“People normally look at the person they’re on a date — fake… date — with.” 
“Do they always look this intently at them?”
“Sometimes,” you fix his collar where it’s flopped over a little. “When they want to kiss them,”
You trail your fingers from his collar over his neck briefly before dropping your hand, and you feel his pulse racing.
“Do you kiss people on fake dates? Or practice dates?”
“Most people don’t go on those, Spence. But normally, you ask if you can kiss the person — through body language or verbally, and kiss them.”
Spencer falls quiet, following you towards the sharks slowly before catching your wrist in a dim part of the corridor, and you can barely make out the way his tongue darts over his lower lip.
“How does that body language look? So I can identify it,”
Your heart races, and you step closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Your eyes partially close just from the anticipation. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, meet his gaze before lowering it to his lips and dragging it back on, curling your fingers on his collar. “Like this.”
Spencer swallows, and moves his hands shakily to your waist.
He waits for you to look at him, and then copies you, eyes falling to your mouth before sliding back up your face.
You kiss him and he startles a little, stiffening under you before sighing and awkwardly trying to match you.
His eyes shut instinctively and remain like that even as you pull back, cheeks so red you can see it despite the lack of light.
“I don’t know… how… to kiss.” Spencer mumbles. “I’ve read a lot, but you’d be surprised how little there is other than facts that roughly 60% of couples tilt their heads to the right to kiss, and that many recipients of kisses will tilt to the right if the person kissing them is doing—”
You kiss him again.
“Later, Spencer. We’re on a date.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “A real one?”
“Unless you kiss everyone you hang out with, yeah,”
“No, no, I don’t.” He clears his throat. “But did you know it’s—”
“Safer than shaking hands when it comes to the amount of pathogens transferred. I know.” You hold his hand firmly in yours. “Now we’re doing both.”
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not proofread, like always. i'm trying to improve my characterization still so please forgive that it's still clumsy. i am also a stickler for cute awkward spence so. expect that too
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luveline · 4 months
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could i request spencer x bombshell!reader where maybe spencer and the team meet reader’s ex boyfriend / a guy she used to be interested in and he’s sooo different from spencer so he assumes her flirting is a joke but really she never had a type until she met spencer n now she’s only into nerdy, sweater-vest wearing sweethearts <3
love ur work sm i only read spencer fics but i read all your characters bc the writing is so intoxicating !!
thank you for your request angel! <3 1k, fem
Spencer looks adorable today. You’re not sure if he knows, but that can be easily rectified. 
“Spencer Reid,” you say sternly. 
He’s immediately wide-eyed and sorry. “What?” he asks, pouting. 
“You have some explaining to do.” You glare, taking your compact from your pocket. You open it, check your appearance, fighting a huge smile as you flick the mirror on him accusingly. “So, what do you have to say for yourself?” 
“I don’t get it.” His eyes jump between the mirror and you. “Sorry?” 
“You should be sorry. Do you see how nice you look today?” He rolls his eyes. “Hey, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.”
You and Spencer have known each other for years now, and you love him. You’d die for him easily in the field, and out of it too, but you’re not together and he’s bad at accepting compliments, so he shrugs you off like you’re only teasing him. 
“My handsome partner,” you say. Even if he isn’t your boyfriend, that’s your loophole. You and Spencer get paired for everything these days, because you’re best friends and Hotch has given up on separating you (though professionally there’s no need). “I could eat you.” 
“Still mildly threatening, then,” a voice says. 
You spin in your chair, shocked and a little horrified to find the last person you wanted to see here in Connecticut. “Cory!” you say, knowing he’ll believe you’re enthusiasm if nobody else. 
“Hi, beautiful. You weren’t gonna call me?” 
Your lips pop as you reply, “I was definitely going to, just as soon as we weren’t on the clock. How are you?” you ask, standing to receive the hug you know he’s going to give. 
Cory is… well, he’s gorgeous, though that hadn’t been why you had fun with him when you were here last. He’d seemed nice enough and plainly interested in you at the time, and you’d been sort of lonely, so really he was a necessity of the soul rather than a want. Plus, he was very rich. 
Gorgeous he may be, but Spencer Reid he is not. You don’t deny it to yourself —the genius behind you has completely changed your type, the kind of man you vy after, and if you’re honest, he’s the one for you. So hugging Cory and pretending you’re going to call him for drinks after the case is over isn’t easy. You lie rather than reject him.
“He seemed nice,” Spencer says in the awkward silence Cory leaves behind. 
“Sure!” you say, blowing out a hot breath. “Was I embarrassing myself? I didn’t expect to see him.” 
“You were the same as usual.” 
You tilt your head back as the door opens again, worried it’ll be Cory back for a last word. Emily smiles at you knowingly, a bag of takeout in hand. “God, did you see that?” she asks, eyebrows rising. “He was perfect.” 
“If you like the Greek god motif,” you joke. 
Spencer’s frowning at his files when you turn back to him. “Spence, what’s wrong?” you ask. 
“Mm? Nothing.”
“You sure?” you ask. 
He maintains that he’s okay as the rest of the team flood in for lunch. You pretend to believe him, not sure what you’ve done to upset him but willing to figure it out. You unwrap his food for him and place his plastic cutlery on a napkin as you know he prefers, sorting through the cup drinks to find his diet lemonade. “Here, handsome,” you say, touching his shoulder gently as you sit down next to him. 
He bristles. 
“Spencer?” you ask. 
He looks around the table. Hotch and Rossi are talking about something with shared smiles, while JJ and Morgan debate the case. Emily’s on her phone with a straw between her lips. They aren’t listening, and so he says, “It’s not a fitting nickname.” 
“What, handsome? That’s not a nickname, it’s a pet name, and it’s true. You’re one of the most handsome guys I’ve ever seen,” —you laugh and grab his elbow when he shakes his head— “are you kidding? Spencer, you could be a model. I’ve told you this a hundred times. You have amazing cheekbones, just dreamy, and your lips–”
“Oh, god, please don’t start,” he says, covering his face with both hands. He sounds like he’s smiling. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 
Hotch shoots you a don’t tease look. You send him a vehement I’m not back, waiting for him to look away before you prod Spencer again. “You’re so cute, Spencer, you don’t get it.” 
“I don’t wanna be cute, cute isn’t your type–”
Your eyes flare. “What would you know about my type, Spencer? Is this– is this about Cory?” 
“Of course it is,” he says, face pink as he drops his hands. 
“Spencer, he is not my type.” 
“But you dated.”
“One date. And that was before I realised I liked dorks in sweater vests,” you say. You’re both acting like this is half a joke, a skit, in case you’re overheard, but you’re also both well aware that it’s serious and vulnerable and flustering to confess certain things right here and now. Too bad it has to be done. “I miss your glasses, babe, they really added to your charm.” 
Spencer shakes his head, picking up his styrofoam boxed lunch to ignore you. 
You sidle close to him, your pinky finger rubbing the slightest hint of his bare wrist. “Wanna get drinks with me tonight? I need a cover story in case Grecian Cory tracks me down. And, you know you get that really cute blush when you drink. What do you say?” 
“No,” he says with a smile, which means yes in this instance.
You kiss his cheek, giggling at the lipgloss left behind. “You’re my type, handsome.”
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kisses over handshakes | s.r. x fem!reader
“who’s the new guy?”
jj turned to you before looking in the direction your eyes were focused on. standing outside hotch’s office was derek accompanied by a mystery guy, well he looked more like a boy. tall and lanky with a short haircut that was starting to grow past his ears and curl to his skin. he was wearing a short sleeved button up that looked a size or two bigger on him, practically swallowing him in the fabric, and he paired dark brown stacks for his office attire.
“that’s spencer reid. gideon helped bring him into the unit when he brought him in as an apprentice, also he’s a genius. graduated high school at twelve, has three phds, a 187 iq and can read fast and remember well. own our human internet.” jj listed off his qualifications for the job at- “how old is he?” “only twenty three.” boy genius indeed.
you followed behind jj as she walked towards the two, “hello boys. spencer i wanted to introduce you to y/n, she’s my assistant.” skirting you closer into his directions, teeth biting into your bottom lip from slight nerves.
“hi it’s a pleasure to meet you,” sticking out a waiting hand. spencer looked to your hand then directly into your eyes as he said, “the number of pathogens passed between a handshake is staggering it’s actually safer to kiss.” and you could tell he was completely serious.
so you shrugged, “okay,” and leaned in to peck his cheek. you saw how derek smiled widely as he shook his head, “told you someone would be bold enough to do it.” reaching out to flick at your shoulder, you swatted his hand away with a frown.
eyes back to spencer, his cheeks turned flushed and his mouth was opening and closing, eyes slightly bugged. “sorry, that was unprofessional of me.” apologizing for overstepping, not wanting him to hate you already.
“no- no it’s alright. just the first to do so, caught off guard.” he smiled nervously, lips quirked. “i- i wouldn’t mind if you- if you kept doing so.” rolling his lips once the sentence settled over the four of you, you smiled back at him.
“looks like you got an admirer, pretty girl.” derek pipped in snapping you from your staring contest with spencer’s profile. you just rolled your eyes to the older man, “guess i know how you feel now, playboy.”
jj pulled you along, “alright, well we have some cases to look over and i’m sure you two have paperwork to fill out, so we’ll see you later.”
“bye pretty ladies,” derek bid you goodbye. you waved at spencer over your shoulder and he held his hand up in reply. you chuckled quietly at his awkward nature.
“by the end of the year, i’m gonna date him.” sounding confident in your statement. you turned to jj and she furrowed her clean brows, “why not sooner?”
“cause i want him to ask me and i know it’s gonna be awhile, but im in it for the long game with boy genius. he’s a special one.”
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strawbeerossi · 5 months
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August - Prologue
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Chapter Description: You look back on the way that you bonded with Spencer over the course of the time you've known him. After one night spent between you both, you tell the girls that you want to ask Spencer to Rossi's wedding. Too bad JJ had other plans.
Content/Warnings: Spoilers for 14x15, unrequited love, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, JJ is a horrible friend (I’m so sorry), general heartbreak.
WC: 2.4K
Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @sadroses98
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Spencer’s love life was a trainwreck. Everyone knew that after the Maeve debacle, dating wasn’t something that he was concerned with. He saw the horrible things that could happen to significant others of the BAU members. Haley dying, Jack being targeted, and Savannah being shot were things he’d seen first hand and he wasn’t eager to have a loved one go through any of it. He’d never forgive himself.
JJ was always special, in his eyes. Even whenever they were both young on the field together, he always pined after her. She was beautiful, funny, and she didn’t always look so bothered to talk to him. Of course, their failed attempt at a date to the Redskins game was just an indication that he should admire from afar. Besides, he’d like to have her in his life regardless. 
He maintained a healthy friendship with JJ over all fourteen years that he worked with the BAU, the woman being by his side even whenever he didn’t deserve it. It was something he wouldn’t trade for the world. He appreciated her, loving her so much that his heart swelled every time she came near him. He buried all those feelings deep in his heart, keeping quiet on the subject. It wasn’t the healthiest way to handle unspoken feelings but it was the easiest. Work would be awkward, plus she didn’t seem romantically interested. Best not to push.
Whenever you joined the BAU, you were blissfully unaware of Spencer’s feelings toward JJ, instead meeting a version of him that was so dedicated to bottling up those feelings. He was a bit standoffish with you at first, which you didn’t take personally. You’d heard of the endless trauma he’d been through and you felt like you had to work overtime to gain his trust.The problem was, you did damn near everything and it was like it wasn’t working.
You learned how he liked his coffee and brought him a cup every morning, you asked for facts about zany topics, you even mentioned Doctor Who in an effort to reach out to him. It was like he didn’t even want to look in your direction.
You managed to chip away at him over the next few months, getting him to laugh in certain circumstances or even having him greet you in the mornings. It was something that you had to work for but it was all worth it in the end whenever he’d gotten fully comfortable with you. He learned that he enjoyed talking to you, having you around.
The both of you had grown quite close to the point where every Friday that you weren’t on a case was spent having a movie night. He’d even taught you how to sew a scarf after too much trial and error. All the time you spent together was causing you to fall deeper in love with the lovable genius with each interaction. Every silly complaint about a show not being true to science, his rambles on topics that interested him, even when you two would get into arguments. 
It was no surprise that you’d fallen so fast. You wore your heart on your sleeve, yearning for a deep connection that nobody else could take away. Spencer was your person, you could feel it. There were daydreams of having a nice home with a big backyard for your kids, Spencer teaching them magic tricks or helping them excel in their academics. 
It was a Saturday night after a successful case that the team went out drinking together to celebrate. You may have let Penelope and Emily influence you into drinking your body weight in whatever liquor was put in front of you. Spencer hardly drank, however he allowed himself to have a few drinks, his tolerance being so low that he could feel a buzz after just one. 
You were too far gone to remember the events of the night but you did know that you and Spencer left together. The night was spent with drunken sex and whatever else you two got up to within the span of seven hours. You both woke up the next morning and it was still okay. There was no sneaking out when someone was sleeping, no forcing them out. You two actually spent a good portion of the morning together. The only issue? You got more attached. It was like you associated the sex with mutual feelings, the dream of actually finding someone to settle with. 
You’d gotten so caught up with the fantasy that you just had to tell the girls at work during one of your morning gossip sessions.
“I don’t know, I just feel like this could be the start of something great. I really do like him, he means the world to me. I just wish that I could say it.” You admitted, leaning against Penelope’s desk while sipping from your coffee mug. 
“Well, I say just go for it! Our genius needs to settle down.” Penelope encouraged, her eyes widening with excitement. “You two can have babies! I don’t think we could ever have enough BAU babies.” She gushed. 
JJ was laughing softly from her spot in the room at her friend’s excitement. “I mean, the worst he could really do is say no. No harm in trying to ask, right?” The blonde let her shoulders bounce. In a way, she could feel a pang of jealousy in her chest. You and Spencer? That didn’t seem right at all.
“He won’t say no! I am convinced he loves you! I mean, you always brighten his day.” Penelope was piling on encouragement, pushing you to take the bull by the horns and just get yourself out there, to put your feelings first.”Plus, you can invite him to Rossi’s wedding!”
It was safe to say that it was working. You felt a wave of confidence rush over you, taking it with stride. JJ had a point, Spencer wouldn’t be rude about turning you down. The pain would still be there in the event he did but at least he wouldn’t be cruel, right? 
“I’m gonna go talk to him about it. It’s a paperwork day, so it’ll be quiet.” Plus, she could just delve into files that needed to be filed away if he did let her down gently. It was the perfect plan!
You were planning on talking to him later in the afternoon, just enough time to give yourself a pep talk. However, Emily and Penelope killed that idea with a snap of a finger as a case had come up. It came with the territory of your job – make plans and have them destroyed by some loser who decided to massacre multiple people for the fun of it.
***
The case had taken a turn for the worse whenever JJ and Spencer were hot on the unsub’s trail, being locked inside a bank with no way to contact the outside world. The only thing anyone had was shitty footage from the security camera inside with no audio to accompany it. All you could do was assume what was happening as you stared at the screen, Emily beside you as she was talking to Penelope about getting anything if they could.
Their body language said it all though, the way that JJ seemed tense and the way Spencer had a look of… Relief? You didn’t know what was happening in the slightest but it was like you could feel your stomach churn, your heart slowly cracking. 
You didn’t want to assume it was anything too crazy, you didn’t need to worry. You were being silly. Once there were shots inside, everyone was rushing to the back door of the building to get inside. You were frozen in place, eyes focused on the room now filled with agents and cops. 
The sound of everyone talking was muffled, your mind somewhere else as you were slowly turning to the screen before approaching the two agents when they were coming out of the building. “Are you two okay?!” She asked quickly, a shaky edge to her voice as she was bringing a hand to her face. “This job stresses me out,” 
There was lighthearted, yet awkward laughter as you were eventually heading back to the SUVs. 
There was a tension hanging in the air any time that Spencer and JJ were together, the two barely sharing glances as the rest of the team were rejoicing and ending the case and preventing losing innocent people as well as potentially losing two of their best agents.
There was something wrong but you weren’t going to say anything.
Clearly something personal happened in the moment they were forced to play along with whatever the unsub wanted from them. You were curious but you didn’t want to bring it up, maybe out of fear of hearing something that you don't wanna hear. 
You didn’t ask Spencer to be your date to Dave’s wedding, instead going on your own.
The whole environment there made you sad. You were thrilled for Dave and Krystall but it was an atmosphere oozing with love while you were alone, the man you wanted to ask being weird and not speaking to you the way he usually did. There was a lot you wondered about. 
Did you do something wrong? Was he angry at you? More questions echoed in your mind, feeling defeated on how such a good relationship has fizzled out to nothing. 
You were brought out of your thoughts whenever Penelope was passing out whatever concoction of drink she came up with. “Here you go, sour puss.” The blonde spoke while placing the mixed drink in front of you at the bar, you offering a small smile in response. 
“It’s a good day, don’t be sad in the corner all night.” Luke added soon after while you were waving it off. He didn’t know the extent of why you felt the way you did. He just knew that you had been in a funk for days, not being your usual self.
“I’m not sad. I’m just.. I’m not really in the mood.” It was honest, however you knew that you had to show up for Dave, he was family. You would’ve done the same for anyone else in the team for whatever event. 
In the midst of your denial, your gaze had fallen on Spencer and JJ, the two talking together at a table farther from the rest of you. It could’ve been some deep, poorly concealed anger that had you putting the cup down and walking over to the two who seemed to be having a great time together. You were falling apart and it was like he wasn’t even paying attention. It stung. 
“Spencer! JJ!” You announced your presence with a smile, your hands clasping together. “I didn’t get to come talk to you guys earlier. I wanted to say hi.” You began. “Also, why are you two isolated from the team?! Come on!” 
What felt like a knife to your chest was the way Spencer looked at you with a lack of interest, almost as if your presence was bothersome. “Oh, we were just talking. We are fine, we will catch up later.” The male answered, hoping the answer was good enough to be left alone again.
That was the moment you broke.
“What the hell have I done to you? You’ve been dodging my calls and texts for days and you barely talk to me anymore. What is your deal?” In an attempt to not ruin the beautiful ceremony, you were keeping a calm demeanor. Even if you could feel the cracks in the facade. 
“What? Nothing! You’re acting like a child. I’m just having a conversation.” Spencer frowned, his attention finally on you for the first time in days. “You act like we talk every minute of the day.”
“Because we normally do! Come on, Spencer. Just talk to me.” You were begging for a minute of his time, an explanation. For days you’d questioned every interaction and every word said. You thought your relationship was stronger than that.
“I am talking to you. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say.” 
JJ looked visibly uncomfortable with the whole interaction, so that’s whenever you were turning your attention to her. “And you, I’ve been trying to talk to you for days and you don’t give me the time of day. What is happening? Do you both have a problem with me?”
“Look-” 
“No! She has a point, Spencer. I’ll be honest with her.” JJ finally found her voice, although the nervousness was gone now, instead just taking the situation for what it is. “I’m sorry,” The words made your knees weak. 
You knew what was coming. 
“The other day, the key to us getting out of there and preventing any injuries, I played truth or dare. Which, I know what you’re thinking but it wasn’t a childish game in the slightest.” She said slowly while you watched her in disbelief.
“Anyway, I was told to give a secret that I’d never tell anyone else. Something I’d take to the grave and-” 
“You told Spencer that you loved him.” You finished, throat tight as you were restraining the urge to either sob or scream at the blonde. “It’s just funny that this all came out after I told you what I wanted to do. You never showed him the time of day before.” 
“I don’t think you pay enough attention. Spencer has always been my best friend and we spend time together alone quite frequently. Just because you had sex one time doesn’t mean that you both were in an unspoken relationship.” JJ responded, having the audacity to act as if she didn’t break girl code to the highest degree. 
There were a few moments of silence, every intrusive thought bouncing through your mind. Your gaze was briefly turning to David and Krystall, seeing the two happily talking with guests before you were tuning your head to the pair in front of you. 
You reached over for the glass of water that one of them ended up putting down, hand clutching the glass before you made the wise decision of throwing water in their direction, the glass emptying on the both of them before the same glass was being placed down on the table. 
Without a word, you turned on your heels so you could walk away from the two. The reception was over for you, no feeling of celebration. You leaving with tears brimming your eyes caught the attention of the small group of agents, the group now turning their heads briefly to look at Spencer and JJ.
“Oh no..” Penelope frowned, the normally bubbly blonde turning to Tara, Luke and Matt.
“Something tells me that JJ and Spencer are talking..”
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kisses4reid · 3 months
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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)
summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store
warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness
genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.
“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.
a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.
you also had no idea who william blake was.
“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.
“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”
maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.
you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”
“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”
“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.
“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,
“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”
“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.
“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”
“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”
she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.
you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.
you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.
“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”
he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.
“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.
it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.
“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.
spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,
“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”
emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.
“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”
“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.
“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.
spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”
you were not just someone.
“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”
“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.
“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”
you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.
“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.
“no, this is fine.”
this? them? you thought this man was articulate.
you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.
“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.
it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.
“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”
you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.
“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.
you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.
“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”
there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.
the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.
she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.
“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.
“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.
he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.
“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”
you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”
logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.
“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”
spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.
all you have to do is talk.
spencer is great at talking.
“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”
it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.
“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.
“spencer-“
“dude just ask her out.”
spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,
“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.
logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.
you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.
you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.
you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.
“$2.50.” you grumble.
you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.
“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”
“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”
you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.
“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”
logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”
“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”
you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”
the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.
“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.
suddenly your apartment felt lonely.
so did spencer’s.
he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.
“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”
“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.
“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”
spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.
“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”
“you mentioned that, lover boy.”
pt.4
taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker
1K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 10 months
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Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.
Genre: Smut, with very little plot and some fluff as an appetiser. MINORS DNI
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink (contraception mentioned), also they have sex literally against the readers front door but I don't know how I'm supposed to add a warning for that...
Word Count: 2.4K
Here's Part 1 and my Masterlist!
A/N: Welcome back! I have a week off from work and no plans for at least four days, so I'm going to be writing a lot this week, so if anyone wants to be added to a taglist pls reply and let me know! My requests are open, too. For now this mini-series is complete, but I might write a third part at some point with the shower scene. Let me know what you think!
The small moment of silence after feeling yourself die a small death in Spencer’s hands is possibly the clearest your mind has been all week. You felt the fatigue melt away from your body as you relaxed into the car seat, knowing that the man who had once again taken to tracing his fingers in small shapes on your thigh, was absolutely going to take care of you.
As he pulled up to your apartment, however, your mind started working all over again, and you cleared your throat ready to start possibly one of the most awkward conversations you’d ever have in your life.
“Thank you for dropping me off.” You opened, not really sure where you were going, but praying that the car stopping didn’t signal whatever this was between you and your coworker stopping as well.
“Y/N, it’s your car. I didn’t drop you off, I practically commandeered you.” He smiled at you now, with that soft, tender smile you’d so often wished to have directed at you and only you.
“So,” you start, your hesitation shaking your voice slightly, “were you serious about joining me in that shower? Because that is absolutely something I need right now, by the way.” You almost curse yourself for how much your vomiting out the words, but the smile never leaves Reid’s eyes as he unbuckles his seatbelt.
“You need the shower or you need me to join you?”
“You know, before today, I’d never have pegged you as such a fucking tease.”
“And I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who begged your coworker to finger-fuck you in the office on full display for your friends to watch, but I guess were both learning a lot about each other today, right?”
“I did not beg.” You stared at him indignantly, finally unbuckling your seatbelt and rearranging your dress and panties so that the walk to your apartment would’nt be too uncomfortable.
Jumping out of the driver side, Spencer quickly joined you at your door as you stepped out of the car, closing the door and pushing you up against it, his hands firmly holding your waist now as he pressed his forehead against yours.
The moment was so intimate you almost forgot how to breathe, but the giggle that jumped from your stomach forced air into your lungs just as his lips curled up into a more playful smile as he responded to you.
“You didn’t beg with your words,” he emphesised the end of his sentence with an innocent kiss to your cheek, pausing to add “but we work as profilers.” Another kiss, this time to your other cheek. “And I’m very good at my job.” This time he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.
It was so totally unlike the desperate kisses you shared in the elevator that you were thrown off your guard for a minute and would’ve absolutely lost your balance had he not been there holding you up against your car. Where his earlier kisses had been hot, purposeful and full of need, these were almost deliriously slow. You felt him smiling into the kiss as his hand moved up to cup the back of your head, pushing you further into his embrace as you gave each other everything you had.
When you finally pulled back, gasping for air but grinning like fools, he quickly pecked you on the lips again before slipping his hand into yours and pulling you along into your own home. He unlocked your door, threw down the keys and immediately had you pushed up against it, his hands back in your hair as his mouth made its way along your neck, as if he didn’t want to leave any spot untasted, undiscovered.
“Spencer,” you moaned into his embrace, but he did not relent, finding a specifically sensitive spot at the nape of your neck and devoting all of his worldly attention to it.
“Spencer, do you remember when we met?” You breathed out, needing to force the thought out before you lost the chance. He hummed a quick affirmation against your neck, but didn’t pull away, like a child reluctant to part from their favorite toy.
“Spencer, please,” you laughed and finally managed to force him to look into your eyes, your bodies still pushed together at the hips, as if the physical contact was tethering him to the moment.
“Yes, Y/N, I remember. I remember everything, that’s my thing. Now can we continue this, please.” He dropped another kiss to your lips and lingered there for a moment too long as if to punctuate his thought.
Rolling your eyes, you continued. “I tried to shake your hand, and you gave me that speech that you give to everybody about germs and bacteria and whatever and then you said it’d be safer to kiss.”
“What’s your point, princess?”
“The point is that the very second it came out of your mouth, I wanted you to do it. Kiss me, I mean. I wanted you to do this, to pin me against a wall and make my heartbeat ten times faster than it already does, and, yes before you say anything, I know that would be incredibly dangerous for my health, but you are Spencer. You are the most dangerous thing that has happened to me, and I love you so fucking much.”
He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t resume your activities either. You just stood there together in companionable silence, breathing each other in. As if breaking himself out of a daze, he finally dragged one finger down your cheek, taking all of you in before replying.
“I love you. And I’m not good with words or talking so I need you to let me show you that I love you. Can you do that, Princess?” You eagerly nod, your hips rolling forward unconsciously, as if your body suddenly remembered what the two of you were there to do.
He pulls your leg into him, letting the entirety of his body push up against you, as you feel the physical manifestation of his desire for you for the first time. He returns to your neck again, but pushes your leg up higher, so he can nestle as deep between you as he can get. You let your hands trail down his body, making quick work at the buttons of that tantilising shirt, and when he comes up for breath, you don’t allow him a moment to move back in before you’re on his neck.
The sweat sticking to his skin tastes salty as you kiss and lick your way from his jaw to his collar bone, pushing his shirt down his back so you can go further down. His throaty moans are the only sounds filling the room as he rocks his hips into your thighs, desperate for friction of any kind.
Although he’s reluctant to let you go, he’s almost relieved when you finally drop to your knees and make short work of his belt, still no further into yout apartment than your welcome mat.
“God, I’m so glad I get to keep this memory of you on your knees for me forever, Princess.” He smooths your now messy hair away from your face as you pull the tops of his pants down just enough to reach into his underwear, too eager to worry about fully derobing him. When his cock finally springs out of his pants, you’re hands are on it immediately. You press small kisses on the tip and sides, your hands moving down to his base as you work your way up to kitten licks, teasing the man slowly.
“Such a little whore for me.” You know from the change in pet names and the tightened grip on your hair that he’s growing impatient, and so you finally take him into your mouth, slowly, making sure to breath through your nose as he moves closer and closer to hitting the back of your throat.
When you get as much of him inside your mouth as you’re able, you start slowly bobbing your mouth up and down, one hand on his thigh maintaining your balance, and the other making sure the rest of his impressive length doesn’t feel neglected.
“Fuck, yes, Just like that baby. You’re doing such a great job,” he moans, but he’s getting impatient again, and you pull off his cock quickly, sticking out your tongue and giving him the permission to use you the way he needs.
“Such a good girl for me,” he says, pulling your hair into place with one hand, whilst the other pumps the base of his cock and pushes it back into your mouth, ready for him to use you like the little slut he knows you are.
“Just breath through it, Princess, you’re doing so well for me.” He starts thrusting into your throat, slowly at first, but quickly building speed like a man deranged, whose only hope at solace is spilling himself into the back of your throat. You do your best to keep your jaw relaxed, and honestly he’s impressed by how long you last, but when you finally start gagging, he’s seeing stars and his groans are having a notable effect on you.
You’re soaking now, so desperate for friction and contact you briefly consider pulling his leg into you and grinding yourself against his shoe, desperate for another release. You know he’s getting closer to his own, when he loosens his hold on your hair and let’s it fall down again, his hands pushing against your front door again as he braces himself.
“God, Princess, look at what you do to me,” he moans as he finally pulls you off of him, your face covered with a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum, a whole lot of which is still trailing between your lips and his cock as you look up at him from beneath hooded eyes.
“Spencer, please,” you shudder and try to catch your breath, as he hits the head of his cock gently against the side of your face, marking you again in the places his lips touched you earlier.
“Please what, Princess? You have to use your words.”
You catch your breath again as his tip traces your bottom lip, gathering some more of your mess.
“Please fuck me, Spencer.” It comes out as a whimper, and he’d almost feel bad if he weren’t so fucking turned on right now, looking down at your innocent face, slick with saliva from choking on his dick. He pulls you up quickly, grabbing at your hips, pulling the bottom of your dress over your ass and ridding you of your panties in one movement.
“So fucking wet for me, my special baby.” He whispers tenderly, pushing your upper body into the door and pressing a small kiss just behind your ear.
He presses himself against your slit, teasing your senstive spots by stroking up and down the length of your pussy until you're dizzy with need and shaking in anticipation. Just as you’re about to scream in frustration and push back on him yourself, he thrusts himself entirely into you, and you are once again breathless.
Your mind goes blank as he pushes into you, gaining a steady rhythm as he whispers praise into your ear.
“You’re taking me so well baby, so fucking good, like you were made just for me.” You feel yourself clench around him as his breath tickles your still sensitive neck, and each time you do you're rewarded with the sweet tones of his groans in your ears.
His hands find their way down to your clit as you beg him for more, unable to form words, but the pants and whimpers you’re letting out supplying him with enough to know that you’re close to the end of your tether.
“Where do you want me, baby?” He asks, his strokes getting slower and somehow even deeper as he does his best to prolong your shared bliss.
“Don’t pull out,” you groan without even thinking. You don’t want to let him go but in this position you cant wrap your legs around him and hold him close so you have to muster up the strength to tell him what you need.
“Oh fuck baby, you want me to fucking cum inside you? Want me to breed you like the little fucking whore you are? Every word drove you crazy, the weight of his body pushing you against the door providing delicious pressure as he drove into you.
“You want everyone to see how good I fuck you? Show everyone how much you like having my cum inside you?” The wet slaps of your skin colliding with each thrust fill the room as your mouth fails to form a reply, your orgasm hitting you as soon as the word inside forms on his tongue.
You shudder around him as your eyes roll back in your head, his fingers on your clit rocking you through it as he keeps up his pace.
“Fuck, that’s it baby girl. Gonna fill you up now, gonna keep you filled from now on,” he moans, and with a final snap of his hips he’s buried inside of you letting his cum flow directly into your unprotected pussy.
You stay like that for a two minutes, panting and gasping for breath, your dress completely stuck to your body, and his pants still stuck around his ankles.
When you both finally catch your breath, he pulls out of you and turns you around, pulling you in for another tender kiss and just holding you for another minute before pulling you further into the apartment.
“Just so you know,” you eventually manage to push out. “I’m on the pill.”
“I know. I saw the pills when we shared that hotel room on the Denver case a few months back. It was still fucking hot though.”
You shared a laugh, almost embarrassed by how much the two of you had wanted each other. You make a bee-line for the bedroom, almost desperate for sleep after your vigorous activities, but Spencer paused as you passed the bathroom.
“You know,” he laughs exhaustedly, “we never did make it to the shower.”
“In due time, Doctor. In due time.”
----X----
🏷️ @spenciesprincess
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reiding-writing · 3 months
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Okay but cold!Reader being hit on at a bar during a team outing and Spencer over hears her turning the person down only to be called a rude bitch maybe he doesn’t realize he CAN be assertive when he defends her and even she’s like ???? Where’d that come from?
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BACKUP [ONESHOT]
/ˈbækˌʌp/
some men are assholes who only care about their own gratification, and some men are spencer reid.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, alcohol, ‘nice guy’ character, misogyny, lots of swearing
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.1k || series masterlist!!
a/n: genuinely hated the douchebag dude so much i had to take multiple breaks whilst writing this 😭
main masterlist!!
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The bar was bathed in a warm, golden glow courtesy of the overhead lighting, a faint aroma of aged oak mingled with the rich scent of brewing coffee creating an inviting atmosphere. The air hummed with the gentle murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and laughter.
Behind the polished mahogany bar, shelves adorned with an impressive array of spirits gleamed in the dim light, the bartenders weaving amongst each other with practised ease, expertly crafting cocktails and pouring drinks for the patrons seated along the bar stools. “What can I get for ya?”
“I’ll get an espresso martini and a mint mocktail, thanks,” You lean your elbows against the top of the bar, leaning forward on them as the bartender gives you a nod, obviously satisfied with your taste in drinks.
You couldn’t entirely agree with her. Espresso martinis were great, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that out of every flavour he could’ve possibly chosen, Spencer wanted a mint mocktail. You understood the no alcohol part, that fit Spencer’s personality to a T, but mint? Really?
You didn’t have much time to question Spencer’s taste in drinks as somebody bumps into your side, and you shift over slightly to make room for them at the front of the bar. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to bump you like that,”
The guy gives you a small smile as an apology, and you wave it off with a small shake of your head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it,”
“One espresso martini, and one mint mocktail,” The bartender returns with your two drinks in hand, setting them on the bar in front of you with a smile. “That’ll be 32 dollars, cash or card?” Curse Washington DC and their ridiculously extortionate drink prices.
“Cash-” You grab your wallet out of your pocket to pull out the notes needed, only to be stopped by the stranger that’d bumped into you pushing your hands gently into your lap.
“Let me cover it for you,” He holds his hand out towards the bartender, card poised between his index and middle finger.
“No it’s fine-” You’re mildly caught off guard by the stranger’s immediate willingness to pay for your drinks, shaking your head as you try to move his hand away from the bar. He doesn’t listen.
“Take it as an apology for bumping into you,”
“Really it’s fine-” He cuts you off with a small ‘shush’ as he gestures for the bartender to take the card, which she does after a few seconds of prompting.
“…Thank you,” Your thanks feels a little forced from your end, not exactly thrilled at his insistence even if it did just save you 32 dollars that could then be spent on more drinks later. You know it was supposed to be a nice gesture, but the way that he ignored your refusal and then continued to shush you afterwards left a sour taste in your mouth.
“Anything for a pretty lady,” He gives you a small wink as he leans against the bar, turning his attention back towards the bartender before she can leave. “Two full pint craft beers, make it quick sweetheart,”
You and the bartender share a glance at his wording, a silent confirmation that you weren’t the only one getting an off feeling from the guy, and she gives him a small nod and an awkward smile before retreating to make his drinks.
You take that as your sign to leave yourself, but you barely get the glasses off the wood of the bar before you’re stopped. “Why don’t you come back to my table hm? We can get to know each other a little better,”
You turn your head in his direction with your lips pressed into a line and an awkward inflection in your tone. “No thanks,”
“Awe come on, what’s a guy gotta do to get a few minutes alone with someone like you?” he taps his fingers against the table, an overconfident smile on his lips and a quirk in his tone. “You don’t have to play hard to get you know, it’s okay to give in sometimes,”
“I’m gonna pass,” You take a small sip of your martini in the hopes that it’ll break up the awkwardness a bit, but you don’t really have any luck in that department, considering the fact that this guy seemingly cannot take a hint.
“Come on, I paid for your drinks,” He gestures his hand towards the two glasses in front of you.
“I asked you not to pay for my drinks,”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Reid, you turning your head every two minutes isn’t going to make her come back any quicker,” Morgan shakes his head with a small smirk at Spencer’s demeanour, seemingly finding Spencer’s attitude hilarious under his lightly alcohol-induced haze.
“It shouldn’t be taking this long, the bar is pretty clear,” Spencer’s tone shows more concern than anything. He knew how some drunk people could act, and even though you weren’t entirely drunk yourself he was a little worried that you’d end up in fist fight with someone if you were left alone for too long in such a confrontal environment. “I’m just worried she might get into an argument with someone,”
“Quite the opposite by the look of it,” JJ leans into Emily’s side to point over at the bar where you were standing, speaking to somebody that none of them recognised.
“Aye, Ice Queen’s got game huh?” Morgan took a swig from his bottle with a laugh as he followed JJ’s finger towards you.
“Are we really surprised?” Emily clinks her bottle against Morgan like the two are celebrating the fact that you’ve seemingly got ‘game’ underneath your icy exterior. “She’s a total dominatrix,”
Garcia seems to find Emily’s statement particularly hilarious, actively hitting her hand against Morgan’s bicep with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “Oh 100%,”
Spencer doesn’t share the same enthusiasm towards your presumed sex life, not just because it made him feel icky to talk about something like that behind your back but also because from his point of view you weren’t having a good time.
You were stood straight up with your arms crossed over your chest in a behaviourally defensive manner, and although he couldn’t see your facial expression with how you had your back to the group, the way you stretched your neck only further illustrated that you weren’t enjoying whatever interaction you were having with the man opposite you, no matter how much he seemed to be.
Maybe it was the alcohol blinding the others to your behavioural tells. Maybe he’d just become accustomed to the smaller things when it came to reading you. Either way, you looked like you wanted out of the situation you were in.
He wondered why you hadn’t just walked away yet. You were usually good at establishing your boundaries and putting your foot down when you needed to, so the fact that you were still entertaining a conversation that you clearly didn’t want to be taking part in was more than a little odd to him.
Then a glass shattered on the floor between the two of you, and it was definitely time for somebody to break the conversation.
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“Come on don’t be like that, you might have more fun than you realise,” He didn’t even acknowledge the bartender carrying over the two beers as she set them down on the bar with a sympathetic look in your direction, absently holding out his card in her direction as he kept his gaze on you.
“I told you that I’m not interested.” Your tone harbours more assertiveness this time. You weren’t known for having the longest string of patience, and under the effects of the alcohol in your system that string was halting by the minute.
You’re tired of being nice and hoping he will go away, you were going to end this conversation now.
“Don’t get pissy with me now, I’m being nice here,”
“You need to leave before you see what ‘being pissy’ actually looks like.”
“Are you threatening me?” The guy looks like he’s about to blow a fuse at your response, seemingly dumbfounded at the way you’re standing up for yourself, which makes you feel inherently bad for any woman who has had to endure his self-entitlement in the past.
“I’m telling you to back off. I said no.”
You take Spencer’s drink from the bar top and turn to leave, but incessant as he is, the guy tries to catch your arm so you can’t, causing the drink to spill everywhere and the cocktail glass to smash all over the floor.
“Look what you’ve done now you stupid bitch,” If the sound of the glass smashing didn’t garner an audience from the patrons nearby, the way he raised his voice definitely did.
You turn your gaze from your soaked shoes to him through furrowed eyebrows, opening your mouth to begin your retaliation. Someone else beats you to it.
“That’s a horrible way to speak to somebody,” You knew that voice. Of course you did, he sits opposite you in the office every day rambling about star trek to anyone who so much as glances in his direction.
“Excuse me?” The guy turns his attention towards Spencer with just as much seething in his features.
“You shouldn’t speak to people like that,”
“Reid.” You grit his name out through your teeth as warning for him to not get involved, but he doesn’t listen to you.
“I can speak to whoever I want however I want, get lost you freak.” He takes a step towards Spencer, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt at looking more dominating.
“Have you ever heard of the Napoleon Complex?” Spencer looked down at the man with a raised eyebrow. “Studies have shown that men with shorter statures tend to be more aggressive and domineering in social situations to compensate for their lack of height,”
You raise your eyebrows in mild surprise at Spencer’s statement, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at the look on the guys face at the accusation.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He takes another step forward, almost chest to chest with Spencer by now, although not exactly on equal ground considering that Spencer was at least a head taller than him.
“Common behaviours include loud, ostentatious, and aggressive attitudes, overly grandiose ambitions, and an attempt to be domineering when in the presence of other people, to assert your height advantage over those shorter than you and prove that your height disadvantage is irrelevant to those taller than you,” Spencer continues to state the details of the Napoleon Complex with no acknowledgement of the rising anger of the man in front of him, but you can see the beginnings of nerves in the way he wrings his fingers together behind his back.
Either way, Spencer was absolutely ripping this man to shreds in the most Spencer Reid way possible, and you found yourself not wanting to break this sudden streak of assertiveness he’d garnered, especially considering it had spawned under wanting to support you.
It was a surprising sight to be sure, but you wouldn’t say it was unwelcome.
You were glad that Spencer had an assertive side to him, it meant that he was capable of looking after himself (or you in this case) without the need for external backup. It was also nice to see that he didn’t lose the key aspects of himself in the process. He was still very much Spencer Reid, but he was using the aspect of himself that would usually be the subject of negative comments as the main form of his defence.
It was a perfectly Spencer move.
“You wanna see aggression? Because I will show you goddamn aggression,” The guy huffed in his seething contempt for Spencer’s attitude, rolling up his sleeves.
“Bar fighting is highly illegal, and you could receive a prison sentence of up to 3 years and 6 months for instigating one,” Spencer takes a small step backwards as an offer for the two to just drop the argument and move on, glass crackling underneath the soles of his converse.
“You think I care?” The tension in the air was palpable as the man clenched his fists, his face contorted in anger whilst Spencer remained surprisingly calm, his stance firm yet non-threatening.
He didn’t have time to actually start anything as the bartender from earlier returns, a bouncer stood to her left with a very unamused expression on his face.
"I think it's time for you to leave," She said in a no-nonsense tone.
The man's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected intervention. "You can't kick me out! I didn't do anything wrong!" he protested, his voice growing louder.
"You harassed another patron and broke a glass. That's reason enough," the bouncer retorted, his gaze unwavering as he uncrossed his arms. He wasn’t like Spencer. He wasn’t thin or unfit, he was built, arms barely able to rest properly at his sides from the muscle mass in his biceps.
Not to mention that he was even taller than Spencer was, and no amount of Napoleon’s Complex could convince someone that they’d be able to physically take on somebody like that.
Realising he was outnumbered and outmatched, the man reluctantly turned and stormed out of the bar, muttering curses under his breath.
With the tension diffused, Spencer turned to you, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice soft.
“I’m fine Reid,” You nodded gratefully, “Thank you,”
“Of course, I’m glad you’re okay,” He half-awkwardly rubs his hand over his arm, all semblance of his previous confidence slowly dwindling until he’s back into the shyly-endearing nerd that you’re used to seeing him as.
“I would say sorry about the drink, but you had it coming choosing mint as the primary flavour,” You look down to the remnants of the glass on the floor and the drink that was soaking your shoes.
“Mint has been shown to positively affect brain functioning,” Spencer holds his hand out to catch your elbow to stop you from stumbling as you walk over the shattered glass.
“Doesn’t mean it tastes good,” You don’t shrug off the small contact like you usually would, Spencer presumes it’s just the alcohol in your system dulling your awareness. It’s definitely not because because having a soothing presence after an altercation like that was comforting. Definitely.
Spencer gives you a small smile once you’re out of the shatter-zone before turning to the bartender. "I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help clean it up,"
The bartender shook her head, a grateful expression on her face at the offer. "Don’t worry about it, happens more often than you’d think,"
“You’re sure?”
The bartender gives another simple nod as she retreats behind the bar, presumable to grab a dust pan to clean up the mess. “Give me a second and i’ll make up another drink for you guys,”
“Oh you don’t have to-”
“Don’t be silly,” The bartender waves him off with a small laugh. “It’ll only take a minute,”
“Thank you,” Spencer shoots the bartender a grateful smile before turning his attention back towards you. “You’re sure you’re alright? You didn’t cut yourself on the glass?”
“I’m fine Reid don’t worry about it,” You check yourself over despite the confidence in your words just to make sure that you weren’t actually hurt and just couldn’t feel it.
“So, Napoleon Complex huh?” You raise your eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile as you recall the way Spencer had hit the nail on the head assuming that the reason the dick from earlier was so aggressive was because of a height insecurity.
He gives you a small nod with that awkwardly endearing expression of his as his eyes also scan down by your ankles for any scratches you may have garnered from the glass. “It’s more common in men than you might think,”
“Napoleon was definitely a piece of shit that’s for sure, a fucking short one at that” Spencer laughs shortly at the crudeness of your assessment, although still agrees with you anyhow.
“Napoleon wasn’t actually as short as most people think he was, the translation of his official records misconstrued his height because french inches were actually longer than american inches and…” You weren’t going to remember any of what he’s telling you in the morning, but that didn’t matter right now.
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