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#daddy spence
shadowmajesty · 2 years
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can someone pls explain to me why spencer charnas is so fucking hot? like, how dare he.
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snarkylinda · 10 months
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Happy father's day, never forget what they took from us.
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gublersg1rl · 13 days
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me starring at cat adams on my screen knowing we are both madly in love with spencer reid, and have raging daddy issues which probably plays a factor into why we love him so much.
* imagine a sad mitski song playing while you read this *
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reidrot · 11 months
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mom i want one man and one man only who goes by the name Dr. Spencer Reid, who is a Supervisory Special Agent with the BAU. Dr. Reid is hailed as a genius with the IQ of 187, eidetic memory, can read 20,000 words per minute, has three Ph.Ds in Chemistry, Mathematics and Engineering with BAs in Psychology, Philosophy and Sociology.
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nark enemy spies au, just think about it
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whovianwholikesgirls · 8 months
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Assumption: reid was your first ever f/o?
-selfshippery
I wish!!! He would’ve been a really good first one to have
My first was actually Jack Dawson from Titanic, followed by Sam Winchester from Supernatural for over ten, after that it was back and forth between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in high school, then Reid in college 🥰
I usually focus on 1-2 at a time and just see how long it lasts. Sometimes I find my way back to them randomly like with Bucky in my current comfort AU for the past month that’s a CM/Marvel crossover. Jack was like 6 years, Sam was almost 10. I’m not gonna lie Spence is probably going to be another Sam😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰
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poexxtry · 2 years
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Dr. Reid sits across the table from Agent Hotchner, looking up from a downward gaze Dr. Reid realizes all that is between them is a flimsy aluminum table. Dr. Reid, frustrated with his overwhelming desire to put Hotch on his knees flings the table aside as he stands and rushes toward Hotch kicking the chair out from under him. Hotch looking up from the ground parts his lips and whispers “what would you like from me Dr.?”
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inkdrinkerworld · 18 days
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Dad!Spencer forgetting to take a hair clip out of his hair that his daughter put in earlier that morning 🤭 and nobody telling him until he goes home LMAO
Georgia has a cutesie little routine with her dad, he does her hair and she does his.
This morning Spencer has spent the better half of twenty minutes braiding her hair back and out of her face.
“Daddy, can you put the ribbons in today? The orange ones, please?” It would clash with her outfit but who is Spencer to deny her that?
“Course Georgia, on both braids or one tying them both together?”
He likes giving her choices like this, letting her decide little things so she feels she has a say. Spencer likes her to be knowledgeable and a little independent- but not too much, he still wants her to need you both.
“Invididually,” he smiles at how she says it and nods.
“Individually, you got it.” He ties the ribbons in cute little bows and then pats her back. “All done, go get breakfast with your mom.”
She starts to hop off the stool she’s stood on and then stops. “Wait. Daddy?” Her eyebrows pulled tight together as she reaches in her hair bag.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer looks equally perturbed.
“Can I put this one in your hair? So we match?” He nods and kneels down, letting her little hands push back his hair and set the orange clip in his hair.
Breakfast is busy, as it usually is with a five year old. She wants waffles and you and Spencer spend a little time coaxing yogurt and fruit on her plate.
You pack her lunch kit, pack yours and then Spencer’s and you’re all rushing out of the door- you need to beat traffic.
You kiss Spencer goodbye and you both rush off- you to drop Georgia and Spencer to the bau.
His day doesn’t get less busy, an all paperwork day, so he’s stuck at his desk and while he gets weird looks from Derek, he doesn’t take it on much.
It’s not unusual at all.
“Okay guys, get home. We’re not getting much else and we’re all updated on the paperwork.” Hotch makes the announcement around four thirty and Spencer sighs, cracking his knuckles as he stretches in his chair.
“Alright, I’m headed home guys. Georgia started fractions today and that math is never good for six year olds.”
He’s packing his back and catches a look of himself in his laptop’s reflection before he closes it.
“Oh shit,” he mumbles, turning round Emily and JJ. “Did I have it in all day?”
They both nod, JJ smiles gently. “It’s a good look Spence, a nice touch from Georgia.”
“She’s getting better at gripping your hair back. Fine motor fully developed.” Emily compliments.
He blushes but doesn’t even bother to take it out, knowing she’s going to love it that he’s kept it in all day.
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cerisereids · 26 days
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𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹- 𝘀.𝗿.
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pairing- dad!spencer reid x mom!reader
summary- spencer reid is the best girl dad on the planet
warnings- hurt/comfort and fluff, post s15!spencer- he is no longer with the bau but there are references to his time there, lowkey some angst bc apparently i can’t write anything for spencer without him being sad, spencer’s daddy issues, a lil makin out/grinding, brief discussion of sex/baby making
a/n- divider from @real-afterglow! happy easter to everyone who celebrates! here’s a cute little thing about girl dad!spencer :)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
spencer reid’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed together. usually, this look of concentration was reserved for intense cases, ones spent pouring over complex documents into late hours of the night. tonight, however, he’s traded serial killers for pastel eggs, taunting him from the kitchen table. spencer’s engaging in an intense staring contest with the plastic eggs as he pores over the array of candy and decorations littering the rest of the table.
his head snaps up as he hears your feet pattering down the steps, knowing you’re about to catch him in the midst of a battle between him and your daughter’s easter goodies. you take the eggs’ place as the object of his visual affection when you appear in the kitchen, staring back at him in silence. his puppy dog eyes plead into yours. he knows you know what he’s trying to say, i’m trying, i want this to be perfect. he also knows you won’t let him destroy himself to make you and your baby girl happy, even when he wants to.
“she’s only two, you know. she’s not going to care if the right piece of candy is in the right egg. she’s just happy to be with us,” you speak to his anxieties like you can read his mind.
it’s one of the many things he loves about you, his sweet wife. the way you just know what his brain is fighting against, and can speak to it. your sweet words don’t appease his guilt this time, though, and you both know it. he plows ten fingers through his mop of hair before sliding his glasses onto his forehead.
“i know,” he breathes, and you both know he has more to say.
“but it’s not enough,” you finish for him.
“it’s not enough,” he repeats, defeated.
“well, then let me help you,” you declare, pulling a chair up next to him.
“no, no,” he insists, shaking his head, “you just put her to bed. you must be exhausted, rest.”
“we’re both exhausted, spence. just because i was the one to put her to bed tonight doesn’t mean i’m the only one doing the parenting around here,” he knows you’re trying to reassure him, but he flinches anyway. his ability to be a father has been a sore subject since you first became pregnant almost three years ago.
“plus, we both know i won’t be able to rest while you’re over here, very clearly in need of a helping hand,” you glare at him, checkmate. he relents at that, and allows you to wrap yourself into him. your arms around his bicep, your head on his shoulder, his chin atop your temple. slowly, he allows vulnerability to pierce through the tension between you two.
“what do we got here, handsome?” you croon, and he’s never been so certain that he doesn’t deserve you, that you’re too good for him. there’s not much he can do about that now but kiss you on the forehead and hope his lips convey a decade of love and devotion in one small kiss.
“i just want it to be perfect,” he croaks, eyes glossing over. “i wasn’t here last time. i don’t think i’ll ever not feel guilty about it.”
“i understand, spence. i’d feel bad, too, but that doesn’t mean you’re not there for her, that you don’t love her. because you do. and you show her, and me, everyday, don’t forget that,” you finish your mini speech with a firm kiss on the lips.
a year ago from this very moment, he was pulled away on a case. the call came at 11 pm, the night before your daughter’s first easter. to say he was devastated would be an understatement. he put on a brave face that morning over facetime, watching the chubby hands of one little eloise reid tear through the plastic easter grass hiding the candy in her basket.
he was brave until the time came to hit the hang up button. with the blankness that filled his screen and his hotel room, he broke. he was of no use on the case, and the team knew it, too. he left the bau shortly after that. he didn’t want to feel that way ever again, and he knew if he stayed there, he would. that time it was only one holiday, sure, but what about when she ends up having a dance recital? or graduates? he couldn’t risk it, he knew his family took the biggest priority.
between that and his own father’s absence in his childhood, he was determined to make this easter absolutely perfect for your daughter, no matter if he fell dead asleep on your kitchen table trying.
the staticky rustling of plastic basket grass tears spencer away from his loud, busy brain, and his eyes soften as they fixate on you. helping him. you’re nestling a little stuffed bunny atop the plastic frills of the basket and spencer watches in awe, wondering why he didn’t think to do that first.
he knows the answer. it’s because it’s you. you’re the best mom, and he loves catching those little moments where you prove that to him. it doesn’t take much, like the way you’re slipping $1 bills into each plastic egg, while also making sure you put a piece of candy there as well. it’s a small gesture, maybe, one that doesn’t take much deep thinking, but he knows that it comes from the deepest love your great beautiful heart can muster.
and of course he loves your daughter too, so, so much, but he struggles to show it the way you do. his lack of a paternal presence in his childhood sometimes leaves him feeling empty handed in his journey of fatherhood. you never let him feel this way for long, though. again, just like now, with the way you immediately jumped in to help him. even after he said no, even if you’re absolutely exhausted. you do it for him, because it’s him. because you love him. he still can’t believe it some days.
he smiles, so full of love for his two girls and lets his gaze linger as you run into the living room. you return yielding the carrots and cookies the three of you left for the easter bunny earlier.
“up for a little midnight snack?” you tease, waving the carrots in one hand and the cookies in another before you sit.
“not my preferred treat but i’m not going to say no to one of your sugar cookies,” he jokes, pulling you to the edge of your chair by the small of your back.
he places a kiss on your lips. an intense one, one that conveys every thought blundering through his mind the 10 minutes you’ve been downstairs. how much he loves you, specifically.
he feels you chuckle against him and can’t help but deepen the kiss, pulling you ever closer so his leg comes between yours, your core pressing warmly against his knee. he hears you whimper, a sound he’ll cherish forever, before you rub against him gently and pull away.
“not tonight,” you peer at him over your glasses, a faux concern dancing through your gaze, “if we do you’ll end up giving me another baby. we both know we’re not ready for that yet.”
it’s his turn now to hide his face in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. you dedicate the rest of your night to making this holiday special for your little girl.
after nibbling on the carrots and cookies, you place them back on the plate with a thank you note, signed E.B. he raises a brow as he sees you pad over to your cupboard, pulling out your bin of flour. your cheeky smile invokes butterflies, and he’s breathless. it’s late, you’re in sweats, your hair is a mess, and you’re currently half-bent, sifting flour over a stencil of a bunny foot, and he’s never been more in love with you.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
spender hears rustling and sweet talk echoing down your spiral staircase. baby eloise’s sweet morning rasp, her high pitched baby voice asking mama if the easter bunny came. he hears you coo at her, telling her she has to wait and see, followed by kissing noises and baby giggles. his heart grows three sizes.
when he sees you appear in the stairway through the lens of his phone, he quickly tears his gaze away from the screen to see the real thing. his girls, eyes tired and hair messy, float down the steps, light from the back window illuminating them, like his own personal angels.
“hi girls!” he lilts, gentle as to not startle his baby girl.
her big brown eyes that she got from dad bore into his, and he can feel himself welling up at her sweetness. sap.
“hi sweet eloise,” he bends down for a kiss from both his angels as you set her at the bottom of the steps, “i think someone special came,” he coos, stealing some more kisses from the baby’s soft chubby cheeks.
she nestles into spencer’s chest, a tiny little thumb settled gently on her lips, and his heart bleeds. he loves her so much.
“i think the easter bunny came!” he croons, hugging her tight and close, “do you wanna see what he got you?” he feels her head nod against him and he hands you his phone. the three of you walk into the living room and spencer sets her down, letting her choose where to go first.
she runs right to the fireplace, where the eaten treats and thank you note lay, her eyes wide.
“wow!” he hears you gasp, and he pulls you to him so you can walk to her together, “i think he ate our treats!”
eloise turns to you two and giggles, clapping her chubby little hands. you two can’t help but pull her in, attacking her with kisses before letting her go on to her other surprises.
she squeals at the bunny feet, repeating, “bunny! bunny!” she gets presents too, of course, spoiled little thing that she is.
you’re better than spencer at shopping for the girly things she loves, so he was an observer shopping for the special things she’s getting this morning.
you nailed it, too. you got her pink, purple, and blue ruffle swimsuits for the summer, and he’s already dying inside imagining how cute it will be. she immediately opens the tinted lip balm with a unicorn on it, as well as the princess jewelry kit, complete with fake earrings and a necklace with aurora, her favorite princess, on the pendant.
she demolishes the easter egg hunt you set up for her in the backyard, just like her dad always did. she squeals when she opens each one, even though all the $1 bills don’t mean anything to her, and will end up being spent by you two anyway. you agreed to spend the total $10 on her, regardless. it’s about having something that’s her own, forming an identity at an early age.
later in the morning, when you appear in the living room, ready for easter brunch with your family, he falls in love all over again. his girls, now a complete contrast to his view earlier this morning, clad in your easter best, look so beautiful, he’s now thoroughly convinced you’re angels.
you’re in a pink ruffled maxi dress, hair and makeup done to the nines. your baby girl got her hair styled by mom, one of her favorite pastimes. her curly hair lay beautifully behind the world’s cutest bangs, and she’s cute as pie with her yellow flowered dress.
he saunters over to you, piercing you with a gaze that said ‘i’m ready for baby #2 now’ before kissing you, then eloise.
“you are the two most beautiful girls in the entire world,” he croons, hugging you both close to him in his big arms.
“i love you,” you whisper up to him, kissing his jawline sweetly, “what do you say to daddy, sweet girl?” you prompt, rubbing her baby belly.
“thank you daddy, i love you!” she chirps, planting a big kiss on his cheek.
he never thought his life could be filled with this much joy.
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luveline · 27 days
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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy
“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 
“Yeah, babe.” 
“No thanks.” 
You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 
“I’ll have socks.” 
You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 
“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 
“Why?” 
“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 
“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 
“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 
She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 
Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.
You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 
“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 
“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 
“No shoes,” Amy says. 
“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 
In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 
You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 
“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 
And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 
You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 
“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 
“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  
Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 
“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 
“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 
“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 
“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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toaster waffles
in which spencer is woken up by fem!reader and their young daughter after being away on a case
fluff warnings/tags: none really, a bit of suggestiveness between spencer and reader but nothing explicit, their daughter is a genius duh, i love dad!spence so fucking much holy shit a/n: i wrote this in like thirty minutes so good luck! just needed to write dad spencer it just needed to happen idk
“No—baby, we have to let daddy sleep in,” you chide your daughter, jogging to catch her as she races down the hallway on clumsy little legs. 
“No! I wanna see daddy!” She yells—and if Spencer wasn’t awake yet, he will be now. You give in, opening the bedroom door for Ada with a fond (exasperated) sigh. 
“Daddy! Daddy wake up!” 
He blinks sleepily several times, sitting up and grinning at his daughter as she attempts to climb up onto the bed. 
“Hi, princess,” he laughs, grunting dramatically as he pulls her up onto his lap. “Oh my gosh, did you get all grown up while I was gone?”
He catches your eye as you stop at the foot of the bed, arms folded and mouthing an amused ‘I’m sorry.’ Spencer smiles and almost imperceptibly shakes his head, eyes sparkling as Ada attempts to use him as playground equipment. No apology necessary. 
“I made you breakfast!” she remembers, grabbing onto his shoulders and springing up and down on the bed. His eyes go wide. 
“You did? Where is it?”
“Oh no!” she claps her hands to her cheeks and opens her mouth wide, Home Alone style. Spencer laughs. “I forgot it!”
Then she’s wriggling off the bed and running as fast as her little feet will carry her, presumably to the kitchen. 
“You like cold toaster waffles, right?” you tease, approaching the bed and filling the now empty seat that is Spencer’s lap. His hands find your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. 
“I would go so far as to say I love them. Hi, baby.”
“Hi,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. “I missed you. I forgot how hard it is when you’re gone.”
He hums, running his hand over your hair. 
“I know. Me too.” Spencer now only consults on cases, and very rarely is he actually obliged to travel with the BAU. It was never easy before, but now that you have a child, it takes more out of everyone. “Hey. Look at me.”
You do, lifting your head and meeting his soft gaze. He leans forward and captures your lips in a gentle kiss, brushing his thumb over your cheek before pulling away. “I love you. Thank you for taking care of the progeny while I was away. I know it’s not easy on your own.”
“Eh. She’s alright. She reads to me at bedtime.”
Spencer grins, eyes darting back to your lips. Several quick kisses are pressed there in succession, and it’s not exactly how he wanted to say good morning to you but that will have to wait until later. 
“Ewww!” 
Ada is at the door again, waffle in hand, making a half-disgust half-delight face before prancing back to the bed and receiving another airlift from Spencer up onto the mattress. 
“What do you mean, ew?” he asks in mock offense as her legs swing in the air. “You’re next!”
You watch in unadulterated joy as he peppers little kisses all over her face and she pretends to hate it, squealing with glee.
“Is that for me?” he asks once she’s comfortably sharing his lap with you, pointing to the forgotten waffle. She holds it up, pressing the disk against his lips. Spencer takes a bite, makes an exaggerated yum sound, and kisses her forehead once more. “Thank you. That was delicious.”
“You have to eat all of it so you’ll grow up big and strong.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll do that. Why don’t you leave it on the nightstand and go find a book we can read together?”
“Game of Thrones!”
“No!” he laughs. “That book is way too grownup for you!”
“But I read the first three pages!”
“I know you did. And Auntie Penelope is still in big trouble for that. Go get Lord of the Rings.”
Full of energy despite the early hour, Ada skitters off again to find the book. 
“She’s too smart for her own good,” you sigh, listening to her making up a song as she picks through the book shelf in the next room. 
“Intelligence is generally more nurture than nature. If we act fast we could probably stunt her IQ to just two or three standard deviations above the average.”
You giggle, straddling him as he slips his hand under your shirt to rub your back. Then you try to school your features into a serious expression.
“Not funny.”
That big, lazy grin might never fade—and you’d be happy to look at it forever. 
“You’re right. Not funny at all.”
“Hey,” you remember, grabbing his biceps. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “I was gonna make you real breakfast. What do you want?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. I want to. So tell me what you want.”
“Anything other than a toaster waffle.”
You snort, moving to slide off the bed. 
“We can probably make that happen.”
“Hey—" he catches your waist, pulling you closer. “Penelope is taking Ada to the park this afternoon. We’re gonna spend some time together, okay?”
After having an entire child together, you still get butterflies when he looks at you like that. 
“What if I have plans this afternoon?”
Spencer doesn’t even look mildly concerned—just tilts his head, brushes his thumb over your lips. 
“Then I’m asking you to cancel them, pretty girl. I owe you some undivided attention.”
You chew on your lip. It’s embarrassing how easily he can still fluster you. 
“Right now I have to go find out why our child is being so quiet.”
He laughs, letting you slip from his grasp for good. 
“She probably got into the Stephen King again.”
You pick up the waffle and gesture at him with it emphatically as you walk away.
“This is all your fault.”
“Mm… let’s call it a team effort.”
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shadowmajesty · 2 years
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can nick just stop posting these. my god sir. it's been like a day or so since i saw this and i'm still not over this.
🤤 yaaaas Daddy Spence Slaaayyy
📸: nickrovo on instagram
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shojizbae · 6 days
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Yeehaw!
Spencer Reid x reader
Warnings: This is spicy! Use of alcohol, behind drunk/drunk sex, Oral fem! receiving, cowgirl position
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Everyone could tell with just one look at you that you were Southern. That being said, anytime there was a case in the South, everyone knew to take a step back and let you lead. This time, there was a string of murders in Aiken, South Carolina, and the team knew that you were all over it.
"Weren't you from a Carolina?" Derek chuckles as we board the jet.
"Yeah, I spent most of my time on Camp Lejeune with my daddy, then I went south for college in Charleston."
"So that means Hotch has been demoted for this." Emily snickers
"No, I just know the South, and I'll get a little gun-happy when I'm back home. It wouldn't be no different had we gone to Chicago, Derek."
"Wow, mama's go home heat today." We settle on the jet, and Hotch and Rossi debrief us. I take a nap as we head south, and unfortunately, the power of the state takes me over. I march up to the sheriff and flash my credentials.
"So, how's it happen?" The sheriff speaks in an accent so thick it makes grits look like juice. I glance at the team, and they seem to sigh in relief when they realize I can understand him. Tirelessly, we worked the case for 73 hours. We met at a fresh crime scene every morning. The unsub seemed to be in a frenzy. He was dangerous and mixed with a high concentration of amphetamine addiction in this area. It was likely he had no clue he was killing.
But, due to the trace amounts of meth, we knew that he was unstable and would trip up eventually. We got some sleep after the fourth body, and there was a trip up in the morning. A fifth, but he had left some of his powdered sugar at the crime scene.
I put a glove on and lifted the little baggie, showing it off to Reid.
"Hey, Spencer, check this out."
"Hey, I've been clean for years," He mopes
"Aw, I'm sorry, sugar," A detective approaches me with an evidence bag. "Here, swab it and run this through CODIS." Spencer and I kept sweeping the crime scene for any molecule of evidence. Nothing all that exciting. The killer left the knife in her this time. Indicative of the fact that they were out of control. I squat next to the body and ghost my fingers over the entrance wound.
"Hey Spencer," He perks up like a gopher, "If you were going to kill someone and you were going to stab them to death, how'd you do it?"
"Are you sure that's an appropriate question?"
"I'm just curious."
"I'd probably use something with a curved blade. It would do the most damage and be the hardest to remove." His eyes go kind of dead, as he explains. An awkward air hangs between the two of us as we survey the wound.
"Damn, Spence, that's messed up."
"You asked." He sasses
Not later that evening, a woman called to suspect a strange man was in her house. We move in immediately and find a man pacing in circles in the bathroom. He's violent and angry, and his nose is bleeding. He tried to swing a knife at Morgan, but I grabbed him by the wrist and slammed his head into the wall. I use my hips to push him forward and cuff him while Emily helps the woman safely out of her house.
I march him to the car while he screams that I'm a bastard whore. Finally, I shoved him into the police car and muttered a good riddance. I even patted my hands like a baker getting flour off.
"I need a drink." I put my hands on my hips
"I could use something to cool off, too. This southern heat can be beat." Derek wipes his brow
"Hotch you think we have the leeway to spend the night here?" Emily asks
"That's all up to JJ, anything pressing enough that we need to get back to Quantico?"
"Well, nothing too scary that we couldn't cut loose after working for six days straight." She smiles at the team
Hours later, we showered, ate a full meal at a steakhouse, and put on the nicest clothes in our go-bags. The team was shocked to discover I had a cowboy hat in my bag. We moseyed our way to the bar, a small dive bar with a pool table. A mechanical bull is in the center of the room, and my eyes light up at the memories. Rossie buys us a pitcher of beer, and we all unwind from the stressful week.
As we knock 'em back slowly and let college stories fly, the team starts to forget what we had seen. Rossi tells us some funny stories about going to college during the summer of love, and Reid accidentally brags about going to Cal Tech.
"Well, what about you? Didn't you go to school nearby?" Emily says as she refills her glass.
"Uh yeah, in Charleston, South Carolina." I clarify
"So you must have spent most of your nights like this." Derek motions around the bar, playing honky-tonk music. Pool balls clack around us, and there's a thin layer of dirt around the edge of the bar.
"Well, most nights I spent in my dorm or the library. Every other Saturday, my roommate and neighbors would go to a dive named Fat Daddy's. We would make bets with the alcoholic dads about being able to ride the bull, and if we stayed on longer than they said so, they'd buy us all a drink. I didn't pay for my own liquor for three semesters." The team stood in shock. Hotch's jaw was agape and Rossi just nodded his chin in acknowledgement.
"Well, now, baby girl, I have to see you in action." Derek almost commands
"No, I ain't dressed right. And ain't nobody betted me."
"I bet you won't last seven seconds on the mechanical bull," Spencer interjects "If you do, I'll buy you that coconut margarita that you've been eyeing."
"Alrght, there's my bet." I march up to the bartender "I'm'onna ride that bull." I point at it and he looks me hat to boot.
"Alright," The bartender seems disinterested. He hits a button, and lights around the bull flash like a carnival. I draw the attention of the whole bar as a pre-recorded announcer calls me a brave challenger.
Big men with fat beer bellies gather around, and I readjust my top. If I play my cards right, I might get more than a coconut margarita out of this. I'm not wearing anything too special—just one of my combat scoop-neck tees and low-rise daisy dukes. The bartender offers his hand, and I use it to mount the big plastic bull.
"You ready, little girl?" He asks
"Yes sir." I grip onto the handle at the 'bull's nape and a bell rings. Slowly the bull starts lurching forward and back while exciting music bounces around the bar.
one Mississippi
The bull speeds up
'ride it, cowgirl!" Derek yells from the edge of the bull enclosure
two Mississippi
It starts going sideways
three Mississippi
I fake with my appearance that I'm struggling and readjust my grip
four Mississippi
I use my hips to grind with the rhythm of the bull as men whoop and cheer
five Mississippi, six Mississippi
My heart starts to thump against my ribs
Seven Mississippi, I win.
The team cheers for me. I keep going, getting bold enough to grind more dramatically. I hear more whoops and hollers as I lift my arms and squee. Someone yells, and another man whistles. I hold onto my hat as the bull speeds up, and I feel my shirt lift.
'Yeehaw!' I hear, and the bar just erupts. I feel so full of life, and I jump up on the bull, riding it like a surfboard. I drop down and sit backward on the bull. I twist around and ride the bull until the bartender slows it down.
"You done broke our record. 39 seconds on the highest speed." The bar screams in glee, and the team closes in on me, handing out high fives. Reid hangs behind the group, and I see him ask Derek a question
"Did you know that (Y/n) has a stomach tattoo?"
"Wow (Y/n), that was incredible." Emily looks starstruck
"I told you I didn't pay for a drink for 18 months." I give JJ a hug, and Reid emerges from the crowd
"I guess I owe you a drink." He smiles, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt
"One coconut margarita, please, sir." He leads me to the bar, where the bartender makes one for me. I hold the glass up to his face, and Reid takes the first sip.
"No, that's fine," He pushes the glass from his cheek
"C'mon, you paid for it."
"Listen, you know that coercion isn't a great thing to do. Most serial killers are more coercive than a skeezy lawyer."
"Aw, you're using my metaphors." I coo and step closer to his chest
"When did you become so flirty?" he braces me on the hip
"All that shaking around must have got the beer movin' in me." I giggle and sip on my glass. "I saw you askin' Derek 'bout my tattoo. y' wanna see it?" I start to roll up my shirt
"No, no, that's fine," He holds my wrist to stop me. "Why don't we get you some water."
"No, this is yummy." I smile and down the cup. He grimaces at the action and tries to walk me over to our table
"Hey, Spencer, you wanna know why I'm so good at riding that thing?" I halt to play with the button of his shirt, and he stops, too.
"Uh sure," He swallows
"Ever the curious doctor," I slur. I'm good with the bull because I love riding," I whisper drunkenly in his ear. He swallows hard and tries to shimmy us back to our table. His hands shake as he grips my tricep.
"Why're you so nervous?" I ask the side of his jaw. My voice swings up an octave, but I snort as I survey the team.
"The liquor got to her quick. I'm gonna get her back to the hotel."
"Oooh, why don't you take me someplace fancy," I tease
"Well, make sure you use protection." Derek snorts as he lifts a brown bottle to his lips
"Aw, you ain't gotta worry. I've got an IUD." Spencer soothes my sentence with a pat on my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his back
"That won't be a problem. I'm just going to ensure she has water, Advil, and comfortable clothes." He jumps away as I make an attempt to grab his butt.
"You sure you don't want either of us to take her?" JJ offers and points between Emily and herself. I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against my temple.
"You gonna take good care of me, Doctor?" I smile up at his concerned face
"I'm not that kind of doctor." He scolds. He helps seatbelt me into one of two FBI SUVs. Slowly and carefully, he drives me to the highway motel we were placed in, and he marches me into my room.
"Alright, are you sober enough to shower?" He sits me on the bed, and the mattress shrieks beneath me
"Yeah, so long as you help me get my shirt off."
"No, I won't be doing that," He finds a glass and fills it with water. He digs in my go-bag and finds the bottle of Advil. He drops two in his hand and gives them to me as well as the cup. "Drink this," he tucks some hair behind his ears.
"My feet hurt," I whine and put the pills in my mouth.
"Well, you're wearing those ridiculous boots," He stressfully tucks some hair behind his ears
"They ain't ridiculous." Stick out a foot and twist it to see the whole design, "Maybe a little flashy." I tuck my foot in and look up at him. "Will you calm down if you held me out of these sugar?"
"Yeah, sure." He kneels down and tugs each of my boots off, and lines them up with the rest of my shoes.
"Aww, you're so caring. C'mere sugar." Reluctantly, he finds me on the mattress, and I pat it next to me. He's hesitant, but he sits, and I lean against him. "Hey, Spencer?"
"Yes, (Y/n)?"
"You wanna ask about my tattoo?"
"No,"
"Really, because you keep glancing down at my stomach. I may be a drunk one, but I am a profiler. What about it? Gets you going so much?"
"What?" He scoffs in shock "It doesn't 'get me going'." I hold onto his arm
"Really? Because I'm pushin' my tits against you, and you're still lookin' at my stomach."
"I uh I'm not." He's distracted enough that I can swing my legs across his lap "(Y/n), this is really inappropriate conduct for coworkers."
"I ain't on the clock," I slowly drag my shirt up to reveal the design. Two big blossoms of overlapping lavender and olive flowers. Any protests he tries to make are halted as he studies the image.
"These ones, "I guide his apprehensive hand as hi pointer finger traces my stomach "Are olive blossoms, they stand for peace. and these are lavenders."
"They mean feminity and grace." He clears his throat
"I've got more," I whisper playfully
"C-can I see them?" He swallows. I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, lifting the hem of my bralette.
"There's some text under my boobs."
"te amo para siempre." He reads without an accent, so it sounds stilted. "Did you get that for a boyfriend?"
"No, it's something my grandpa used to tell me." he runs his thumb over the cursive, "And on my collarbones." I guide his wrist to my right clavicle.
"'An eye for an eye,' I guided him across my chest, and he traced like he was reading braille.' leaves the whole world blind.' He connected his eyes with mine. His pupils were real big.
"Aw gee, I just realized I'm a little underdressed."
"Of course," he shifts around to encourage me to get off
"Uh uh, it could be you're just overdressed," I hold onto the knot in his tie
"No (Y/n),"
"You know, darling, your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying yes." I slide my hips forward and feel him suppress a shudder. I direct his head to look at me with blown-wide puppy dog eyes. "Maybe we should tell your mouth to let your body take over." I sink my lips against him, and he melts into me. Our lips smack as he pulls away
"(y/n), no, this isn't professional," he tries to disable my arms as I slide his tie knot apart
"Well, that's good. If I were professional, you get a hotel in a local jail for soliciting a prostitute." I get the knot loose and free his neck, making headway on the buttons. He shiftsbutI kiss his complaints away. Soon, sounds of complaint turn to moans as he succumbs to his body.
"Hey, Spencer," I pull away briefly and chew on my lip at the view. His hair is fluffed, and the top half of his shirt is flipped open. "I've got one more tattoo, and I think you'd really like it."
"I would?" he pushes his hair back "Why." I give him a peck as I reach for the button on my shorts. He grabs my hand and undoes the button himself. I guide his hand to the zipper, and he tugs it down. Instead of shimmying out of the shorts, I hook his finger in the elastic of my underwear. He pulls it down just enough to read the black text that slowly faded to show green.
"C6H12O6?"
"Yeah, you remember what that means?"
"It's the chemical formula for sugar." He snaps the underwear back into place, and I jump at the sensation, "Why?"
"Because I'm so sweet." I dive back in and kiss him. Heated aggressively like he's got the last cup of water on his tongue. He reaches into my hair to steady me, and with his second hand, he grabs my hip. I continue to unbutton his shirt until he shores it off into the distance.
"Well, look how handsome you are," I watch him blush, but I run my hands up his chest and over his collarbones. He blushes but guides my hand to his belt buckle. I love the sound a belt buckle makes. Before I can get his pants off him, Spencer surprises me. He picks us up and twists us, so my back slaps against the squeaky mattress.
He slithers down my body, kissing down the various tattoos. Gently, he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He slides them down and separates each of my knees. Almost entranced he licks up the gray cotton panties I wore.
"Spencer!' I moan in shock
"Please, this is my favorite part." He pulls the underwear off and tosses it to the side. I don't protest any further. It's rare to find a guy willing to go down on me, much less one that initiates. He wraps his arms around my thighs and places my knees at his shoulders. He wastes no time diving in.
With every man I've slept with, I've never felt someone go down on me with such fervor and skill. I'm taken down. He clings onto my clit with desperation. He drops my right leg so that he can trace gentle circles around my pussy.
"Spenc- Uh"
"Sh-sh -shh, just relax." He soothes me and rubs my inner thigh. I try to look down at him, but as he continues his ministrations, I lose my strength and flop my head back. Slowly, he sinks his pointer finger in, and I take a sharp inhale.
"Spe-EUUh!" His skill is shocking as he slowly moves his finger in and out. Once I was acclimated, he pulled out and put both his pointer and middle in. I do my best to suppress it for the comfort of the surrounding guests.
"Don't hide from me." He comes up and looks my face over
"There's other people around, Spencer."
"Then let them hear." He places a kiss on my forehead and sinks down to continue devouring me. I don't hold back as much as I'm embarrassed. He starts a 'come hither' motion and I roll my hips up into his face. He braces a hand on my hip.
"Sit still." He commands
Steadily, I felt a climax rising in me. I felt the muscles in my stomach clenching and tensing. I feel like yellow waves of pleasure ripple through my body.
"SPE—Spencerr, I'm gonna!" I desperately reached around and threaded my fingers into his hair. With my other hand, I felt around for the disheveled comforter. I balled my hands into a fist around what I held: his hair and the blanket. I climaxed faster than I had expected. Accidentally, I locked Spencer in with my legs. Desperate to keep the pleasure close to me.
It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I came to, I released my legs, and he resurfaced, wiping his mouth as he checked on me.
"How are you doing? Was that any good?"
"Good?" I gaped, and I saw him crumble a little in insecurity. Spencer, that was the best head I've ever had." He chuckled boyishly as I held his pants so he lay on top of me.
"Spencer?" I ask slowly
"Yeah," He kisses me on the side of the mouth
"I'm gonna fuck you now,"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I sit him up and unzip his pants and pull them down. His legs are ridiculously long, and it feels like an eternity to get him naked. I geek at his boxers. His cock is jumping against the fabric, and there is a small precum stain. I rub over the fabric, and he keens into my touch.
"Aww, so you're all talk," I tease
"S-shut up, you were just writhing under me." He leans back on his arms. The veins in his forearms are bulging, and I can see his stomach shift as he shifts under my pawing.
"Yeah, and now you will be."
I slide my fingers under the elastic, and he lifts his hips to help me free him. Gently, I stroke him, and he gulps back and moans. I mount him, letting Spencer guide himself into me. I sigh as I feel him slide in, and his hands gravitate to my hips.
"Woah," he grunts. It's probably the strangest reaction I've gotten, but I appreciate being such a stunner.
"How are you doing, Reid?"
"I-I'm sublime. How are you?" I shift my hips in contemplation, feeling my eyes pool in the back of my head.
"Oh, I'm doing-g just-" My sentence cuts itself off as the head of his dick kisses a sweet spot inside me. "Can you just give me a little boost?" He holds each of my hips and drags me across my lap.
"Oh fuck," I sigh, and I pick my hips up. We fall into a sensual rhythm as the world disappears around us. "Spencer, that feels so..." My forehead collapses against his collarbone. There's something about his dick that itches a scratch I didn't know I was feeling. Similarly, he mews below me.
"(Y/n)," he groans out below me "Don't stop." and I don't. Instead, I pick up the pace. I brace myself on his shoulders and slam my hips back and forth until my thighs burn. And when the sensation becomes overwhelming I keep fighting.
"Oh my- uh," He groans beneath me "(Y/n), (Y/n), I'm gonna cum." He sounds desperate. "(Y/n) you have to get off." He whimpers
"No, I'm gonna cum too. I won't-" I keep my hips galloping against his thighs, "PLEase- fuck, I'm gonna." I feel his cock twitch inside me, and warmth spreads through my thighs.
"Uh, nice and deep." I halt myself for a second," Spencer I gotta keep going."
"M'kay." I ride with such speed that I'm scared the legs on the bed will snap. Finally, I feel the point of no return—like watching a slow vase fall over, knowing you're too far away to stop it. I came. My knees buckled, and I fell chest-first onto Reid.
"Are you okay?" He holds my back steady and gently rubs my spine, and I catch my breath.
"Yeah, I'm okay." I sit myself up, and Spencer tucks some frizzy hair behind my ear. "Probably some of the sex I've had in... ever." His face lights up. I use his shoulder to stand up, and I feel it slide down my thigh.
"I'm gonna need a shower, but there's always room for two." I smile and trot off to the ensuite. It's not long before Spencer is chasing me behind the vinyl curtain to wet his hair and press a kiss to the back of my shoulder.
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lightvixxen · 8 months
Text
Say it.
Just a small Spencer Reid drabble!! Im p sure its a gn!reader soo
Summary: Spencer is hellbent on getting you to finally call him daddy.
Warnings; 18+ MINORS DNI, edging, daddy kink, dom!spencer reid, soft dom!spencer
Words: 430
“Say it.” Spencer whispered in your ear, and you whimpered, shaking your head ‘no’, Spencer rolled his eyes.
Spencer had you on your stomach, pounding you behind, you ended up in this position after you had almost let the word ‘daddy’ slip from your lips earlier.
Now he was hell bent on getting you to say it, he had only caught the first syllable, but he was pretty sure he knew what you wanted to call him.
“Spence please- fuck” you moaned, your cheeks were wet with tears after being edged, he wasn’t allowing you to cum until you said it.
“Please what?” He asked, pulling your head out of the pillow that you had your face buried in by your hair.
“Pleasee let me cum, please, please, please!!!!” You begged with your boyfriend, begging for an ounce of mercy.
“If you wanna cum you just gotta say a simple word, baby, all you gotta do.” His hips stilled as you clenched around him, a tell that you were close.
You sobbed, this was probably your fifth ruined orgasm, but you were too embarrassed to admit you wanted to call your boyfriend daddy.
Spencer started up again, you were even surprised he’s lasted this long, he had to have been edging himself too.
A particular hard thrust has your back arching a loud moaning clawing its way out of your throat, that was the thrust that happened to break your resolve, desperate for relief.
“Fuck- daddy! Fuck please daddy please, i need to cum-!!”
“There you go.” Spencer smiled wickedly, his left hand moving to rub circles against your clit, more tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks. His right hand that had been holding your back down, making sure you couldn’t move against him, moved to grip your hip.
“Cum for me, sweetheart, let go” he told you, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy.
“Daddy- shit, thank you, thank you, thank you-!” You practically screamed, thanking him for finally giving you permission to cum. Once you reached your high you were pretty sure your soul left your body. Eyes rolling back into your head, shortly after Spencer came in you, his cock buried deep inside of you.
“See? Wasn't that hard was it?”
You shake your head, “it’s embarrassing…”
Spencer chuckled, letting go of your hip Spencer moved a hair out of your face.
“You’ve written worse baby.”
“Wait what-“
Spencer just smirked at you, he got up to grab a washcloth from the bathroom.
“Spence, wait- how did you-?”
“Your phone password really doesn’t work to keep me out sweetheart.”
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Text
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I simp over nerdy guys who have names that start with S
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mandarinmoons · 2 months
Note
Spencer x wife!reader who’s insecure about her postpartum body? I just know he’d be the sweetest little smorgasbord of love ever
"smorgasbord of love" omg I love that
The past few years have been the happiest time for you. You met the love of your life and after some time of dating Spencer proposed, which you obviously agreed to, and not long after that you both welcomed a precious bundle of joy into your family.
Your little girl, Bailey, was your angel and the apple of Spencer’s eye. The second you saw her in Spencer’s arms your love for him quadrupled, if that’s even possible, and it seemed to grow even more as time passed. Every second of spare time Spencer had he made sure to spend it with his daughter, whether it was watching cartoons with her or helping you change her diapers, he was a dream come true.
Even though everything seemed to be perfect from the outside, things weren’t always so beautiful in your mind. Something you struggled with for as long as you could remember was your body image and now that you managed to carry a baby through 9 months of exhausting pregnancy the image you had of yourself began to warp even more. You knew you shouldn’t think that way, after all you were healthy enough to bring this beautiful little miracle into yours and Spencer’s life, but sometimes the dark thoughts took over and you weren’t able to ignore them.
There you were, stood in front of the mirror as you lifted up your shirt to see the skin loose around your stomach. Stretch marks riddled your sides, which were already present before the pregnancy, but were now more apparent than before. You sighed as you put your shirt down and rubbed your hands over your face to try and soothe yourself and a moment later you felt arms wrap around your waist along with a few kisses peppered over your shoulder.
“You okay hun?”
As you removed your hands from your face and looked at the mirror in front of you, you saw Spencer looking up at you with the same amount of love they’ve always carried. How he managed to look at you the same way after all that your body had been through was mind boggling to you.
“I know I shouldn’t feel bad about the way that I look, but”, your eyes filled with tears, but before you were able to finish your sentence Spencer pulled you into his chest as his hand caressed your back in a soothing manner.
“Sweetheart, you are so beautiful to me and the way you look now only adds to your beauty. Look at you, you carried my child and every little mark on you is a reminder of that. You could never be more beautiful to me and if we ever have more children then you will only keep getting more beautiful to me.”
Your head rested on Spencer’s chest and a small smile creeped up on your lips as you heard Spencer speak, how could this man get any more loving with you? 
“Thanks Spence, I really do love you.”
“And I love you, more than you could ever know.”
You giggled and pressed a sweet kiss to Spencer’s cheek which in turn made him smile, however the moment was cut short as both of you heard a cry coming from the other room.
“I got this,” Spencer hurried to the other room to take the crying baby into his arms and you followed suit. Walking through the door you saw Spencer cradling Bailey in his arms as he shushed her and lightly sang along to a lullaby. You walked over to them and caressed Bailey’s head as she slowly calmed down and you and Spencer looked at each other.
“Good job Dr. Daddy.”
Spencer chuckled and pressed a kiss to your ear, “You did a good job too mommy.”
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