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#honestly with Reid it just makes sense
drreidsphds · 2 years
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FUCKING CRYING AND LAUGHING RN LOOK AT THEMM
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maschotch · 2 years
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u care abt reids character development more than the writers and u dont even care about the guy lmaooo
kasjkshfj honestly
like. even if he was written consistently, or even written well, i dont think i’d like him v much. but that doesnt mean i dont want his character to be cohesive or make sense at all
i know they’re all main characters in this ensemble class, but he really is (especially in the first and last seasons) A Main Character bc he’s the one who goes through conflicts and supposedly developing his character. but they’re so fucking flippant about what to do with him and just give him stories that they think will sound interesting that they dont bother actually having him grow as a character. which just makes him seem so immature
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reidmotif · 8 months
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"Technically" Not A Student
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Summary: Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her .
Prompt:You’re Alex Blake’s TA when a Dr. Reid comes to guest lecture. Things get heated quickly when you're alone.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, guestlecturer!Spencer , age gap (roughly 10 years), car sex, heavy making out, unprotected sex, slight female masturbation, Spencer is smart and that's HOT, heavy sexual tension
Word Count: 5.1k
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Being asked to be Alex Blake’s TA was the opportunity of a lifetime, and when it was presented to me as a first-year graduate student at Georgetown, I took it eagerly and never looked back. 
She had personally approached me after I’d finished a semester in her forensic linguistics class as a freshman, and commended me on my dedication to the material and my general work ethic, and then inquired if I’d ever consider filling out an application as her teaching assistant starting the next semester. 
I immediately agreed. It was a no-brainer. Blake was a seasoned professional in the career field I wished to enter, not to mention she’d been one of the best professors I’d had whilst taking classes at Georgetown. Knowing I’d be working so closely with her absolutely thrilled me. It provided opportunities I'd have never gotten otherwise.
For example, getting to sit in on the class the famed Spencer Reid would be lecturing on. 
She usually kept me quite busy, having me develop assignments and quizzes for her class when she had other responsibilities to attend to. I’d heard horror stories from other TA’s in which their supervisors would delegate ninety-nine percent of the work to their juniors, having them essentially teach the class for minimal recognition or pay. Blake wasn’t like that, and I was thankful. This time around though, she had very different instructions for me.
“You don’t need to prepare any material this time around.” Blake explained to me, and I nodded, listening diligently. “I’d just like you to sit in, and possibly take notes, as you see fit.” She added, and I flashed a polite smile, nodding. 
“No problem whatsoever. I’ll sit in the back so as to not bother any students as I do.” I replied, offering her as much convenience as I could within my actions.  
Secretly, I did want to catch more than a glimpse from the back of the room. I wanted to experience the esteemed colleague Blake had often spoken of with incredible fondness. I was aware he was slightly older than I was, and a bit socially inept from the way she described him in his stories, but I was also aware the man was a goddamn genius. She’d describe in precision the way Reid would pick up on patterns and leads faster than anyone else on the team, and his immense knowledge in multiple fields beyond criminal profiling. When she’d told me he had three pHDs, I had to hold back a gasp. I hadn’t even started my own doctorate, but the idea only exhausted me- and he had three?! Color me impressed. 
Blake, being as brilliant as she did, could sense the hidden enthusiasm in my eyes in meeting this man. 
“Honestly, I’d rather you sit in the front. If you’re taking notes for any student unable to attend, it’s more imperative that you know the contents of the lecture, rather than anyone else.” She said, smiling kindly. 
“That’s absolutely alright with me.” I say, even quicker than before, nodding, thoughtfully. In reality, the only thing I was thinking about was how close I’d be near the man. I had no idea what he looked like, what he sounded like, but something about him made my stomach flutter. 
“I’m sure Dr. Reid would be interested in meeting you, as well. He takes special interest in anyone pursuing our line of work.” Blake added. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the words made my cheeks light up with a hint of embarrassment.
I don’t know why, but he intimidated the hell out of me. The idea of him taking interest in a conversation with me made my heart beat slightly faster, and I nodded. I tried to convince myself that my nerves came from a purely professional standpoint, but regardless of my intentions, I was absolutely exhilarated by our imminent meeting.
While I knew there'd be initial awkwardness when I'd meet him, given my idolization of the man, I didn’t account for how terrible it’d actually be when I realized how fucking attractive he was. It was almost unfair. I was already tripping over the words I planned on saying in my head, and now he looked like that?
It was cruel.
The soft, doe eyes paired with sharp cheekbones. The slope of his nose, and the mess of brown curls atop his head. Every word out of his mouth was made even prettier by the soft curve and pinkness of his lips, and I found myself wanting to lunge over the table and kiss the hell out of him.
Needless to say, not the right thoughts to have about your professor’s (older) coworker. 
 While I was initially going to introduce myself to Dr. Reid before his lecture, hopefully establishing myself as a serious individual regarding my studies and eventual career, I shied away, opting for Blake to introduce me instead, nodding politely when he made eye contact with me, exchanging a quiet “hello” and taking my seat in the front.
That was it. And probably how it should be, considering I genuinely couldn’t think straight around him. Students began filtering in, and I took my spot at the front of the room, crossing my legs and beginning to outline his lecture as he began to speak. 
He was a brilliant lecturer, and it was honestly criminal he didn’t do this for a living. He gesticulated wildly throughout the whole of it, but every word of his was punctuated with a genuine passion that even some of the best professors on campus lacked. I did my best to diligently keep up with every point he brought up, but with how fast he spoke, it was difficult. Still, an effort was made. 
If that wasn’t enough to deal with, I swear the man kept making eye contact with me for the duration of his lecture. At first I believed I was imagining it, that his eyes kept drifting to mine by coincidence, but by the third time, I’d realized that everytime my eyes left his figure to scribble something, I’d look up to see his dark eyes boring into my soul, almost as if he was trying to solve me with a glance. It was intense and made my stomach turn in a way which wasn’t entirely unpleasurable, but I forced myself to remain professional.
 Blake did not need to see me absolutely lusting after her coworker, even if he was utterly fit. 
Anyway, he was probably only making eye contact considering I was in the front, and probably in an optimal spot for his eyes to focus on whilst addressing the whole of the class. Still, the way his gaze was trained on mine, reaching the deepest parts of my soul didn’t help the growing heat between my legs. 
I forced myself to focus on the board, my notes, anything but those godforsaken eyes for the rest of the lecture. Anytime we made eye contact afterwards, I’d quickly look down, like I’d been caught doing something terrible. 
Was anyone else seeing this? Was I insane and made delusional by my unexpected attraction to this man? Was he seriously making me wet just by looking at me? 
Yes. 
Sooner than anyone wanted, the lecture period had completed and Dr. Reid was finishing up. The students were absolutely enamored, especially the girls, as expected. Of course it wouldn’t be just me who’d noticed that in addition to being accomplished in his intelligence, he was also ridiculously easy on the eyes.
Blake stood in the corner, watching her students vacate the space, while some held back to talk to Dr. Reid as he packed his things. He seemed a bit shy at all the attention, but didn’t hesitate in explaining concepts to seemingly eager students, giving them all a soft, shy smile. 
God help me, he was adorable. How was I falling for a man I’d never even spoken a word to? 
I’d never left the classroom before Blake did, so as she stayed, I did as well, until the three of us were the only ones left in the room.  Blake smiled, walking up to Dr. Reid with her hands in her pocket. 
“You worked up quite the fanbase, Reid.” Blake said, a little playful.
Reid replied somewhat bashfully. “You have a great bunch of students.” He flashed a small smile at her as they spoke, still packing up his things. 
 The dynamic between my superior and the man was obviously sweet. They almost looked familial, which made sense. Blake had commented here and there that she managed to spend more time with the BAU with her actual family. I’m sure the latter was the same for Spencer. He probably had a doting girlfriend at home, ready to welcome him in her arms and I mentally kicked myself again for being so attracted to him.
He was nearly ten years older, for god’s sake! Enough! I screamed at myself. 
 I was brought out quite suddenly from my thoughts when Blake spoke in my direction. “This is (Y/N), my teaching assistant.” Reid came in my direction as I got up and approached him, offering a hand to me. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Blake told me who you were, but we weren’t properly introduced.” 
I gave a firm shake to his hand, which I noticed was calloused and smooth at the same time. God, even his hands were pretty. He had long, slender fingers with short-kept nails. They were veiny, and looked strong. I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like inside of me, buried in the heat of my core as I begged him for more.. more.. 
I forced the thought out of my head, only nodding again at the handsome man. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” I say, forcing myself to be professional.
Stop thinking about fucking him! 
“Spencer works just fine.” He says, imparting a kind smile that nearly made my knees weak. Did he have any idea the embarrassing effect he was having on me? 
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake looking at the two of us with a bit of a strange expression on her face. I let go of his hand and took a step back. Oh god. Could she tell? If she could, she said nothing. She gave us both a kind smile, before grabbing her own things.
“(Y/N)?” She called out, starting to walk to the door. “Mind locking up for me tonight?” She said, already throwing her keys to me. 
“That’s fine by me.” I say, grabbing her keys mid-air. I was used to this. Blake often wanted to leave a bit quicker than I did, and I was more than happy to assist in any way possible. What I didn’t realize, was that this left me and Spencer in the room alone, something I wanted to avoid, considering how fucking awkward this man was rendering me with so much as a glance at me.
I heard Blake leave, and as she quietly closed the door behind her, I leaned against a desk, keeping my eyes down as Spencer continued to pack his own things. I tried to not let my gaze drift to him, as I waited for him to finish up. 
I let my thoughts wander to the lecture, and couldn’t shake the feeling he’d evoked in me when he looked at me like that. This was honestly ridiculous. The man had barely spoken ten words to me, and here I was, absolutely mooning over him. It was a new low for me, but in my defense being a graduate student meant I didn’t have much time to get my .. needs fulfilled.
“That’s why” I convinced myself. I just hadn’t gotten laid in a really long time. Nothing more, nothing less. 
“So, you’re a criminology student?” Spencer says, suddenly, breaking me out of my trance. 
I looked up, nodding. I responded on pure habit and instinct. ‘Yes, I’m in the process of getting my Masters in Criminology.” I said, nearly robotic. 
“That must be interesting.” Spencer replied, flashing me a sweet smile that caused an entirely new slew of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “I never studied criminology specifically, but the classes I took interested me.” 
“Blake told me you had three pHDs.” I acknowledged, trying to return his smile, but in all honesty, I probably looked like an idiot. I was nervous as hell, and hoped he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t my fault. He was awe-causing. A sight to behold, if you will, in intelligence and appearance. 
He laughed good naturedly, “Yeah. Three.” He must’ve noticed the stars in my eyes, because he continues. “As well as a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Sociology. And I’m working on another in Philosophy.” He finishes with a smug, boyish type of smile. 
What was previously stars in my eyes, was now full blown shock all over my face. “Wow, Spencer.” I said, a little dumb-struck. “That’s.. a lot.” I add, a little stupidly, giving him a little laugh. 
He sweetly scratched his neck, revealing his self-consciousness. “Yeah? You think?” He says, a small smirk in his voice, and I laughed again. “You think I should stop after Philosophy?” 
“Totally. Save some knowledge for us.” I teased. It was comfortable. He was surprisingly easy to get used to. He was affable, despite how daunting his knowledge was. 
“Hey, you try graduating before you’re a teenager.” He defends himself, playfully. “Not much to do, really.” 
I laugh. “I don’t know.” I say, throwing my hands up a little. “Play ball? Run around?” I joke, and he makes a face at that, scrunching up his nose. 
“Not my thing.” He replies, smoothly, and I laugh. 
“Alright, fine. Keep your degrees doctor man.” And he laughs at my joke. Like, a real laugh. I didn’t even find my own rhetoric particularly humorous, but knowing that I’d gotten him to react like that made my cheeks glow. 
He finished packing the last of his things and slung his satchel bag over himself, starting to walk over to the door. I made sure to gather all my things, and walked to the door with him. He held it open for me, and I nodded my head in thanks, and he let it shut behind us. I turned around to lock it, using Blake’s keys and placing them in my bag securely, before looking at him. 
“Well, Spencer. It was nice meeting you, thank you for the lecture it was-” I start, but he interrupts me. 
“Can I walk you to your car?” He interjected, looking a little shy as he did. I smiled a little confusedly, wondering why he’d want to do so, but I gave him my answer, nonetheless. 
“I don’t have a car. I usually take the bus back to my apartment.” I explained, smiling softly. 
“The bus?” He says,  quirking his mouth to the side. “Isn’t it a bit late for that?” He replies, a hint of concern in his voice. 
I gave a little sigh, “I mean, it’s fine.” I say, trying to laugh a little. “I’ve done it before.” I add, attempting to ease the worry out of his voice. “It’s not that late.” I say, but he simply shakes his head. 
“No way.” He says, still adamant on this. “I.. I can drive you home, if you’d like?” He says, his words going slightly on the higher pitch as he rolled out his proposal, and I gave a small grin at that. 
“Really? If it’s a hassle I can seriously just take the bus. I wouldn’t want you to keep anyone waiting at home or-” 
He interjects again. “No hassle. I promise. I want to.” He pauses, before adding, “No one at home. You’re probably going to be the last person I see today.” He seems to blush at his final admission, and my eyes widen in interest. No girlfriend? Score. 
“Alright, Spencer.” I say, smiling again. “Lead the way.” 
He led me to his car, an old-fashioned Volvo and I couldn’t help myself from gawking at it.
“God, you have a cool car too? Is there anything about you that isn’t interesting?” I say, aware I was probably stroking his ego a bit, but honestly I wanted to. The man was just so damn intriguing, and every new bit of information I learned about him only made me want to unravel the whole of him. To truly know him, in and out. 
He laughed, using his keys to manually unlock the door. “Oh, trust me. I’m plenty boring. The car is probably my only saving grace.” He joked, and I laughed again as I got into the car. 
“Oh, I highly doubt that, but if you say so.” I say, sweetly, and adding a light tone of flirtatiousness in my tone. He seems to blush at this again, and I begin to think about the events of day. The stares in class, the perpetual rosy tint on his cheeks that had been there since we began our conversation, the way he joked and laughed at my (admittedly, unfunny) jokes. 
Oh god. Did he like me? 
Only one way to find out. 
As Spencer got in the car and began driving onto the main road, I looked at him, trying to put on my best, innocent smile. “So, you said you’re not going home to anyone?” I say, a softness to my tone, but an undeniable hunger in it as well. 
“Uh.” He responds, that damned blush coming on, strong. “Yes.” He replies, nodding as he keeps his eyes on the road. 
“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, a bit forwardly. 
Now he’s really blushing, stuttering a bit. “Oh, no. No girlfriend. Not much time, given the BAU and our schedule.” He said, almost clinically, and I nodded. 
“I mean, Blake has a husband.” I point out, a little smugly. 
“I guess.” He says, sighing a bit. “But, you know.” He says. He vaguely gestures to himself, and I look at him a little confused, tilting my head at him.
“Spencer, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” I say, with a little giggle. “But trust me, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” I continue, before I can stop myself.
He looks at me, giving me a soft smirk, and a raise of his eyebrows. He didn’t look uncomfortable, and honestly looked just as thrilled as I did, and I knew that this night had a good chance of going the way I wanted it too. 
“Ah, you’re sweet.” Spencer replies, “But no. I just mean, I’m.. me. You know?” He says, trying to explain his (non-existent) shortcomings, but I just shake my head. 
“You don’t give yourself much credit, you know?” I attempt to say with that amorous tone from before, but it was more overcome with genuine respect and admiration. “You’re smart, funny and nice to be around, I mean.” I pause. “Did you not see the absolute crowd of girls around you after the lecture? Trust me, Spencer. I bet you’re more than easy to be with, even easier to like.” The words rush out of me, and I watch him tentatively for his reaction to my words. 
Instead of the sweet side smile he’d been offering me all night, he finally looked at me. The car had come to a stop at a red light, and his face was dangerously sexy as it was illuminated by the colored glow around us. 
“And what do you think?” Spencer says, in a low tone, making direct eye contact with me. 
I feel my stomach turn at the sudden directness in his words, his gaze nearly devouring me whole. I felt my mouth go dry and I swallow, trying to keep my tone steady. 
“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice having a slight shake to it. 
“I mean, what do you think about me? Do you.. like me?” He says, licking his lips slightly, and the action causes the previous heat between my legs to come by in full force. 
“Oh, I mean.” I say, my previous confidence dissipating in an instant. “Well, yes, Dr. Reid. Everyone liked you today.” I say, trying to give more of a conservative answer now.
The man had a way of making me feel totally comfortable around him, and then flipping the switches, rendering me dumb and stuttering. Like I was now. 
“Oh, so I’m Doctor Reid now.” He says, clicking his tongue and saying the words with an air of lighthearted teasing, but I only bit my lip, hurriedly trying to explain myself. 
“I mean, it's your title.” I say, quickly, trying to justify myself. “I mean, you said it yourself- three pHDs. It’d be pretty shitty to just discard the years taken to achieve that. Um. Well. You’re a genius so probably not as long, but still! Calling you doctor is a sign of respect for your accomplishments and-”
“You're cute.” He interrupts, and I look back at him to see his eyes back on the road, a cocky smile plastered on his face.
The light around us turned green, and he started the car. I picked at my nails slightly, trying not to display any more signs of nervousness around him. I wanted to do something with him, at least, and that couldn't happen if I was a bumbling mess.
We drove in relative silence for the next few minutes, as I tried to gather my thoughts and possibly continue what we’d been building up to these past few hours, but a quick glance at the windows and the road we were on caused me to furrow my brows.
“Oh, this isn’t the way to my apartment.” I remark absentmindedly, looking at the window beside me, then in front. “I live near the train station, off east?” I offer, expecting him to fully make a turn back towards the direction I’d prompted him towards, but he didn’t even flinch, continuing on the more secluded road we’d entered.
“I know.” He said, glancing at me once more, actually applying more pressure to the gas pedal, causing us to go faster down the terrain. 
Okay, fuck. He was an FBI agent, so I didn’t have to worry about him murdering me, right? Wait, no, that’s stupid. He could probably get away with it. No! He’s Blake’s friend. Her coworker. For the goddamn FBI. He wouldn’t murder me. What the fuck was going on? 
I watched as Spencer pulled off to the side of the road, darkness surrounding us entirely. There weren't any other cars around, and it was silent in the car before I bit my lip, and started to speak.
“Did I.. offend you?” I ask, cautiously. No reply. I try again. “Why did we stop?” I add, trying to test the waters with him to see what he was thinking at that moment. 
“I thought I could wait before we got to your place, but I need to know now.” He replied, a sudden urgency in his voice. He turned towards me, watching me with a dark, intense gaze, similar to the one he'd given me in class that day. “Do you want me? Am I reading this wrong with you? Because if I am, we can completely forget it and I can drop you home but (Y/N)..” He paused. He made direct eye contact with me and once again I found myself wanting to swim in those dark eyes of his. “I want you.” He said, his voice low and raspy. 
I didn't give it much thought as I gave into my urges and surged towards his lips the best I could in the car. He responded immediately, bringing me closer with his hands and placing them on either side of my face, moving his lips against mine in a perfected rhythm. I used my fingers to quickly undo my belt, before climbing over the console to sit in his lap, getting closer without our lips disconnected once. He understood my actions and intentions immediately, pulling the seat back so I could rest more comfortably in his lap as we continued to kiss. 
I knotted my hands in his hair, giving an experimental tug which elicited a low moan from his mouth. I grinned against his lips and his hands moved from my face to his hips, bringing my clothed core to rest right against his growing bulge, which I immediately moved against. He let out a sharp breath as I did and broke the kiss. 
“Oh god. I’m sorry.” He said, breathlessly, hands on my hips. “I don’t know what came over me and-” 
He looked almost frantic, and incredibly guilty, so I quickly leaned in for a peck, stopping him mid sentence. I brought my hands to his shoulders to rub them soothingly, and he seemed to relax in my touch. 
“Spencer, calm down.” I say, nearly purring. “I want this.” I continue, rubbing patterns into his arms now. “Please.” 
“You’re Blake’s student.” He murmurs, using one of his hands to run through already messy brown curls. “What am I doing?” He says, almost to himself, looking ready to stop our tryst. 
I realize he was attempting to backtrack from this, and before he could continue his train of thought, I quickly leaned in from my position on his lap to start kissing his neck, trailing wet hot kisses down the column before whispering. “I’m not her student.” 
He pulls away to look at me, biting his lip. “What?” 
“I was her student last semester. I’m her teaching assistant now.” I smirk a little, licking my lips. “Technically not a student of hers.” 
He seemed to take in my words for a moment, and then something in him shifted, and he lunged at me again, kissing me with even more ferocity. He absolutely devoured me, his hands everywhere at this point. Caressing my sides, in my hair, on the small of my back. He brought me closer to him in any way he could, pressing our bodies against each other in a frenzied manner that caused the wetness between my legs to increase tenfold. 
“Wanted you.. as soon as I saw you.” He murmurs against my lips as we caught our breath in between kisses. “Knew it was wrong but..” 
I nodded. I understood. I was the same. 
“Fuck.” I moaned, as I felt the bulge resting below me get even harder. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait.” 
“Impatient.” He remarked, smirking, now beginning his own line of kisses down my neck, making me moan in pleasure. 
“Please.” I breathed out, my words being reduced to a squeak as he bit my neck gently, and my eyes fluttered shut. I was melting right in his damn hands, just like he wanted. 
His hands started to work at the buttons on my jeans, and I sighed in relief, lifting up my hips to allow them to be tugged off, leaving me in my underwear. His slender fingers traced the seam, leaving me shuddering with pleasure for the man in front of me. I tried once more, breathlessly murmuring at him.
“Please. Please.” 
“Use your words, baby.” He whispered, a devilish smirk on his face. I was too far-gone to care about what I looked like. I needed him so badly. 
“I need you to fuck me, now.” I say, clearer. “I need it, Spencer.” 
Something about me using his name, nearly moaning for the man when he’d barely touched me stirred something in him, and he started to undo his own slacks, freeing his cock from the confines of his briefs. I watched in fascination as it sprung out, and took in a sharp breath of air. I licked my lips before making eye contact with him, begging for us to get on with it at this point. He nodded, understanding my desperation and I smiled dumbly, beginning to lift my hips. He guided his cock to my heat and placed his free hand on the small of my back, slowly guiding me down his member.
I moaned softly as I felt him enter me, providing me with the most delicious stretch. I threw my head back in pleasure as he brought both his hands to my hips urging me down. 
“That’s it. God, fuck. You feel so good.” He moaned, which only made me want to take more of him. I lowered myself down a bit faster, and he released a heavy groan as his hips met mine. I whimpered slightly, his length filling me up perfectly. A thin sheen of sweat had gathered on my brow and I leaned my forehead, adjusting to his size. 
“You good?” He breathed out, using his hand to brush a piece of hair that had stuck itself on my brow, and I nodded. 
“Yeah, just.” I took a deep breath, before licking my lips, looking up before nodding.
I slowly lifted myself off, letting the head of his arousal nestle in me before I slammed back down, eliciting moans from both of us. He began to match my movements in tandem, thrusting up into me wildly. I held onto his shoulders, burying myself in his neck as we went faster. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix every time, causing me to cry out with pleasure every single time. 
I felt my orgasm rapidly approach, and Spencer seemed to sense this as well, considering the involuntary clenches I was giving around his cock. He let his hand slip down to where our bodies met and rubbed tight, fast circles around my clit, encouraging my release. 
“Come on, pretty girl. Come all over my cock. You can do it.” He breathed out, watching my every move with a hunger I'd never experienced before.  
It took a few more thrusts from him, combined with the insistent fingers at my bundle of nerves before my thighs began shaking, and I let out a chorus of moans, most of them sounding like strangled versions of his name as I coated his cock in my wetness, spurring him on to go faster inside me, bucking into me like a man possessed. 
He continued to jut into me wildly, until I felt him finish inside me, coating my walls with his release. He breathed shakily, holding me close to him as I slumped over his shoulder, my chest heaving up and down as I came down from the intensity of the previous moment. 
He affectionately removed me from his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, the tenderness and gentleness in his actions contrary to what we had just done. I pulled back with a dazed smile, taking in how pretty he looked. 
“If it’s alright, I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime.” He said, still a bit breathless, and a shy smile appeared on his face.
I giggled. He was literally still inside me, and was asking me out on a date with a boyish nervousness that made him even harder to resist. 
“For you Dr Reid? Anything.” 
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ahh! writing this was a beast, and i imagined it to be longer but i got what i wanted in less words haha. i hope you guys liked this. any reblogs, comments, likes are so so appreciated i know it sounds totally stupid, but your guys' support means a lot lot lot!! thank you!!! <3
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luveline · 8 months
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heyy! ━ im not sure if you requests currently because its totally fine if you dont.
but how about hot bombshell bau!reader where she looks extra fine today [like its warm and she wears a dress] and spencer cant info dump like he usually does? ━ feel free to add anything to the story!
love your writing and page, <3
ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader
Texas gets hot. Unbearable, suffocating heat, arid air that feels as though it's baking you alive paired with the unforgiving beat of the sun on your shoulders. Sorry, Hotch, but you have to wear a dress. 
It's a little black thing with respectable sleeves and a less respectable hemline. There's no cleavage on show. Honestly, you could wear it to the courthouse if you needed to, and that's what counts. 
"Well, hi, mama," Morgan greets as you drift into the hotel lobby. 
"Unprofessional?" you ask, holding the hem in your two hands and pulling it down a touch. 
"On you? Absolutely." Morgan's wearing his usual attitude, but even he had the sense to wear a light grey shirt. "Where've you been hiding that one?" 
"I'm prepared for anything, Derek, you know that." 
Hotch raises his eyebrows when he sees you. 
"Too much?" you ask cautiously. 
"No. You look nice, Y/N. It's not you I'm thinking about." He suffers in his suit jacket, but you can't imagine he'll wear it much longer. He's a stickler for formality but he's not insane. "Speaking of, where's Reid?" 
"We're here!" JJ assures, leading the rest of your team from the breakfast hall. "We were following the air-conditioning. Hey, nice dress. I wish I packed something cooler." 
"It has to be hitting one ten," Emily whines. 
Spencer follows behind her, not quite looking at you as he begins, "It's an even one hundred farenheit today, it just feels hot because the aridity of the air is…" 
Spencer stares at you, his voice fading thin as the edge of a flower petal. He makes a very gentlemanly and extremely entertaining attempt to restrain himself, but his eyes pitch downward to your thighs, your legs as a whole, pupils dragging and catching on the slopes of them. 
His gaze shoots back to your eyes. "The air?" you ask softly. 
You can feel Hotch's disapproval in the same way you could predict today's heat. Spencer glances at him, and, because he isn't totally socially unable, he steadies himself and says, "You look nice." 
"Spencer!" you cheer, your happiness nearly smothering a mixture of sighs and laughs. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet!" You close the distance between you to clasp his arm gently. "You look nice too. I see you've foregone a sweater in the heat. Have you ever thought about wearing a v-neck shirt like Morgan does? You'd look really good, especially your arms." 
Speechless, Spencer shakes his head. You pat his shoulder as Hotch shepherd's you out of the hotel and into the sunshine, the agony of a land without air-conditioning distracting your audience. With slightly more privacy, you lean into Spencer's side. 
"I know it's not quite right to wear to work but my pencil skirts are all too tight after the last wash. Do you think it's alright?" 
A bead of sweat collects at his hairline. "I think it's fine." 
"Yeah? I just couldn't stand to be hot again like we were yesterday, even my knee caps felt sweaty. If it gets any hotter I'll have to solve the case in my underwear." 
Spencer makes a quiet, strange sound, like a pant or a gasp being choked on. You'd love to say you attribute it to the heat, but you're not that humble. 
"We'd still get the job done, wouldn't we?" you ask. 
"I don't know what to tell you," Spencer says. 
Hotch puts you and Spencer in separate SUVs.
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yourmomxx · 6 months
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i wanted to request something sweet with my man aaron hotchner. like r and him work at the bau but their relationship is a secret until r kiss him on accident because shes excited about something!!! i hope this make sense idk!
thanks bestie have a great week!
i’m loving me some babygirl aaron hotchner honestly, i hope you like how this turned out!!
The office lights were blinding.
Like clinically cold balls of headlights that were penetrating through your skull, buzzing at an abnormally high frequence consistently.
You groaned inwardly and pressed the balls of your hands deep into your eyesockets, anything to just make that stupid headache go away so you could continue filing your reports that laid unedited on your desk.
You tapped the head of your pen vigorously against the desk top to jog a flow of words for you to write down.
With your hand supporting your head, you didn't notice a figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye.
"Hey." The tone of Aaron Hotchner's voice was soft and warm, but you still couldn't help but jump at the unexpected presence so near next to you.
You sighed when you noticed it was him, and leaned your head on your hand again. "Hey."
Aaron threw a look on you, then your files, and then your hunched figure again.
His gaze softened.
"Why don't you go home?" He suggested. You opened your mouth to openly protest, but Aaron cut you off before you even started talking.
"You need the rest," He made it clear to you, "and I'm sure Jack would love if you read him a story before bedtime."
You threw him a look. "You can't just lure me home using your son. That's not fair game."
The corners of Aaron's mouth twitched and he tilted his head.
You sighed. "Even if I wanted to go home," You said, "This paperwork won't finish itself."
Aaron moved closer to you and threw a glance over your shoulder, one hand supporting his weight on your desk as he leaned over your body.
"Let me do it," He offered.
You turned to look at him. "I can't ask that of you."
Aaron straightened up. "You're not asking, I'm offering."
Carefully, he pulled your pen out of your hand and put it back into its designated holder with multiple other ones that probably weren't even functioning anymore.
"Now," He drew out slowly, while his fingers were circling under the collar of your jacket hung over your chair, and he held it out to you, "Go home."
You threw him a doubting look. Aaron raised an eyebrow.
"I can make this an order if I want to."
You raised your hands, defeated.
"Alright, alright."
Slowly, you rolled your chair back and stood up, and accepted happily when Aaron helped you slip into the warm jacket. His hands kept steadying you at your shoulders. You closed your eyes and let your muscles relax against him for the blink of a second.
"Thank you," You muttered to him.
Aaron nodded. "Of course."
Your bag was already packed, it was a plus, as you lifted it off the floor.
"Maybe you can read Jack the book you brought him the last time," Aaron suggested. "He hasn't put it down since I showed him."
At his words, your face cracked into a huge, beaming smile.
"He actually liked it?" You hushed. Aaron nodded, smiling.
"That was my favorite book as a child, I'm so glad!"
You strode forward and pulled him closer to you in a short, but emotion-pouring kiss.
When you leaned away, Aaron smiled.
"Get home safe," He said. "Text me."
You dug out your headphones out of your bag and smiled at him.
"Always."
Then, not without throwing your lover a last kiss in your steps, you made your way out of the glass gates and left the building.
Only when the closed elevator doors put you out of his line of sight, Aaron allowed himself to finally pull out your chair and sit down.
He cracked open one of the brown files and started writing.
Only a few tables away, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid were frozen in the same position they had been in just one minute ago.
Emily opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again.
Derek turned to Rossi. "Should we-?"
"No." The elder Agent cut him off.
Emily gestured wildly with her hands. "But they just-"
"I know, but - let's just not."
Spencer tilted his head.
Emily gave in.
They all just watched as their Unit Chief sat on your desk and filled out files that weren't his, as if it was the most normal thing on earth.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
wearing spencers clothes🤯🤯 the boy would not be able to focus!!!! i love all of your work btw!! you're single handedly encouraging me back into my marauders phase❤️
Then my scheme is working ! Thanks for requesting babe :)
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Spencer has to force himself out of bed so you don’t wake up to him staring at you. Also, so he has time away from you to get himself together. 
He’s never felt so much like skipping before. As soon as he’s in the kitchen, full to bursting with the knowledge that you’re asleep one room over, his smile is unshakable. It’s embarrassing, honestly, he’s like a high schooler. You can’t see him like this. He starts going through the kitchen to see what’s not expired. Ketchup, hummus, bread, muffin mix (too risky), mattar paneer (not a very good breakfast), eggs. Spencer can work with eggs. He has to double-check that he has both salt and pepper, but he’s good to go.  
He pops bread in the toaster once he hears you moving around, a giddy flare of anticipation shooting up through his middle. You’ve never stayed over before, and Spencer didn’t have any time to prepare. He only has one hand towel, which you seem fine with sharing and he’s going to pop in the washing machine as soon as you leave, and only one toothbrush. He feels bad that you have to brush your teeth with your finger. If you deem him worthy of a next time, he tells himself, he’ll be ready then. 
He hears the quiet padding of your footsteps but forces himself not to turn around until you say, “Morning.” 
Your voice is still stretched with sleep, and when Spencer turns around he can see it still lingering in your face. Your eyelids are droopy, weighted down, and your hair looks like you’ve tried to run your fingers through it but couldn’t quite get it to behave, and you’re—that’s his sweater vest. You’re wearing his sweater vest. 
He must be staring, because you look down at it, your expression going sheepish. “Sorry, is this okay? I know you’re sort of particular about germs, but I didn’t want to just come out here naked, and I really didn’t feel like putting on my jeans…” 
Spencer shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s fine.” All the stuff you’d done last night, and you think he’s going to be fussy about your germs on his clothes? This is a completely different kind of upset. You’re—you look—well, you look like something Spencer dreamed up. You look like comfort and sweetness and Sunday morning. 
“Okay, thanks.” You smile. Spencer thinks that if he was hooked up to a transducer, you’d actually be able to see the rush of dopamine to his brain. “It’s lucky you’re so tall, this fits me like a dress.” 
A small dress, but sure. “I also have a disproportionately long torso,” he blurts. “My legs aren’t as long as they should be for my height, so my shirts and vests are longer than average.” 
You nod like everything he’s just said made perfect and socially acceptable sense. The toast pops up and Spencer jolts a little, remembering to push the eggs around in the pan a bit. 
A little smile tilts your lips, and you lean back against the counter behind him. “Are you making us breakfast?” 
“Mhm.” 
The smile spreads, your eyes going soft. “That’s so sweet of you,” you say warmly. “Thanks, Spence.” 
“I can’t really cook,” he warns you. “I mean, I can usually do eggs, but only scrambled and even then I might…don’t thank me yet.” 
A little laugh spurts out of you. It reminds Spencer of the fountain in front of his work, of water sparkling in the sun. “Okay,” you say, “do you want any help?”
“It’s probably best if whatever happens is undeniably my fault.”
You laugh again. He wonders what he can do to make that keep happening. 
“Fair enough.” You push off the counter, headed towards the door. “Do you get the paper?” 
For a second, Spencer’s too busy watching you go to remember if he does. “Y—yeah. It should be here by now,” he says. 
He hears the door open, and then, “Perfect.” You come back brandishing the rolled-up paper, discarding the rubber band in his trash bin. “Do you mind if we do your crossword? You seem like you’d be so good at that.” 
Spencer actually stopped doing the crossword years ago—the pop culture references he didn’t get, and the rest were too easy—but he’ll do it if it might impress you. 
“Sure, let’s try.” 
“Okay.” You grab a pen from the coffee table, spreading the paper open on the countertop. “Wyoming’s state sport, five—”
“Rodeo,” Spencer says. It takes him a beat to realize he cut you off. He turns, grimace in place and apology on his lips. “Sorry.” 
But you’re grinning. You shake your head a little bit, pride or admiration or a bit of both, and write it down. You push a piece of hair away from your face. Spencer’s eyes get caught on the wool of his sweater vest where it brushes your collarbone. 
“African river to the Mediterranean, four letters. That’s the Nile, right?” 
The garment seems to shift with every tiny movement. Sliding atop your shoulders, moving about your neckline, the soft material skimming your ribs. Under the counter, it has to be bunched underneath your thighs. 
“Spence?” 
“Hm?” He forces his gaze up. “Yeah, the Nile.” 
“Thanks.” Your eyes linger on him a second too long before you bend back over the paper, a knowing smile playing on the corner of your lips. “Okay, and eagle claw in five letters is talon, right? Oh, um, eggs.” 
Spencer’s brow wrinkles. “How many letters?” 
���No, Spence.” You laugh, sliding out of your seat. You tug his sweater down a bit as you walk over, the band at the bottom hugging your thighs. “The eggs. Your eggs.” 
He turns, registering the smell of smoke before the sight of the crispy, blackened eggs in his pan. “Oh.” 
You reach past him, elbow bumping his as you switch off the heat. Spencer moves the hot pan away from you quickly. He scrapes his sorry eggs into the trash bin, setting the pan in the sink. “Sorry, I got distracted by the crossword,” he tells you, and though he suspects you catch the lie you’re kind enough not to call him out on it. 
“It’s fine.” You shoot him another of those brilliant, beaming smiles, taking a piece of cold toast from the toaster. “I love toast. Do you have any butter or jam or anything?” 
Spencer winces. “Not really…” 
You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “No worries. I’m down for a trip to the store if you are.” He nods sheepishly, and you press your lips together, thoughtful. “I think I might change first, though.” 
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rynwritesreid · 4 months
Text
A night to remember-Spencer Reid
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A/N: Okay, firstly thank you for all the love on mind-games, honestly I might post the next chapter next week but I am not sure. Also, for some reason even if you @ is correct and everything, some times tumblr won’t let me tag you :(
Summary: Spencer is back from prison, and he’s changed but not in all the ways you want. You discuss with Spencer something you’ve been wanting to try and he is willing to give it a shot.
Content: Post prison Spencer. Fem!reader. Mean dom spencer. Sub!reader. Pet names/name calling. Degrading kink. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial. Begging. Established relationship. Smut (and some fluff). Spencer asks a lot of time for your consent (as they should, especially if you are in BDSM dom/sub relationship). Begging. Sex toys. Virginal fingering. Handcuffs(slight bondage ig) 18+
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
It wasn’t a secret that prison, and the whole Cat Adams situation, had changed Spencer. It was evident in the way Spencer carried himself, the hardened glint in his eyes that pierced through the darkness. The weight of his experiences behind bars had etched lines on his face, transforming him into someone unrecognizable.
 
He seemed darker; he didn’t seem to mind having to kill in order to protect anymore. He had told you on several occasions that he would kill for you, well his exact words were; “you I’d kill for you. I mean if anyone ever tried to hurt you, I would make sure that’s the last ever thing they’d do.”
 
Though Spencer had always been protective, this was new, and while the rest of the team knew what he had been through recently had changed him, they had no idea just how much it had changed him.
 
Spencer had also changed how he was at home; he was no longer ‘vanilla’, but he wasn’t exactly rough. He treated you like a princess; he would not let you go to sleep until he had at least made you cum twice. And while you loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you, degrade you, to spank you and to deny you the pleasure he so often gives you.
 
But you didn’t know how to bring this up with him. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or like he wasn’t good enough and that you weren’t enjoying what he was doing. However, you also knew nothing would change if you didn’t bring this up with him.
 
One evening, as Spencer cooked dinner for the both of them, you couldn't help but find the perfect opportunity to broach the subject. The room was filled with the aroma of his signature dish, a comforting reminder of the old Spencer, and you felt a pang of nostalgia.
 
As you sat across from him, you took a deep breath and began, "Spencer, I know things have changed since your time in prison, but I need to tell you something that's been on my mind."
 
He halted mid-stir, his knife-wielding hand trembling slightly. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, trying to process the implications of your words.
 
"I want to try something new in the bedroom. I want you to be rough with me, to dominate me, to make me feel as if I'm entirely under your control. I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoy what you do now, but I want this, I’ve wanted this for so long.”
 
Spencer set the knife down carefully on the cutting board, wiping his hand on his apron before turning to face you. The look of concern had faded, replaced by a hint of curiosity and intrigue. He had always been good at reading people; this was no different.
 
"Is that all?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "You want me to be rough with you? To dominate you?"
 
You nodded, glancing down at your own hands, fidgeting nervously in your lap. A sudden surge of heat filled your cheeks as you spoke, "Yes, Spencer. I want you to control me. I want you to take me in a way that I've never been taken before. I want to feel completely vulnerable and at your mercy.
 
It was a request he had never received before, but he saw the raw desire in your eyes. He could sense the urgency in your voice, and the hunger that was burning deep within you.
 
"Alright, but I need you to trust me," he said, taking a deep breath. "This will be different, and it might be intense."
 
You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. You had never felt this way before, this desperate need to be dominated, to give yourself completely to him. The thought of it made you shudder with excitement.
 
“Well, we can’t do anything now, we need to eat, so you just sit there and look pretty for the time been while I finish dinner, okay?” Spencer chuckled under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The look in your eyes told him that this wasn't just some fleeting desire, it was something that had been simmering deep within you for quite some time. He knew that he had to tread carefully, as this was uncharted territory for both of them.
 
Spencer continued to prepare the meal, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He knew that he had to show you the intensity and control you craved without truly hurting you. He needed to make you trusted him completely, and only then could he truly take control.
 
As dinner was ready, Spencer dished up the meal and served it onto the plates. Sitting down, he took a moment to observe you. Your eyes were filled with a mixture of anticipation and a slight hint of trepidation. He knew you were scared, but he also knew that you trusted him enough to explore this new territory.
 
"You have my word," he said softly, looking directly into your eyes. "I'll take care of you, and I'll make sure you feel safe and cherished throughout this whole experience. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"
 
You looked into his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at his promise. Trusting him was easy, you knew that. You trusted him with your life, and that was no small thing.
 
"Yes, Spencer," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I trust you."
 
He smiled; relief evident in his expression. "Good," he said, taking your hand in his. "Then let's eat, and we'll talk about what this entails later."
 
As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. This wasn't just about trying something new; it was about exploring a side of your relationship that you had never dared too before. You knew it would be intense, but you trusted Spencer to guide you through it.
 
After dinner, you both sat on the couch, the dishes cleaned up and put away. Spencer turned to face you; his expression serious but gentle.
 
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubts.
 
You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Spencer. I know you'll take care of me."
 
He smiled, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "I won't let you down," he promised, his voice firm and reassuring.
 
With that, he leaned in and kissed you lightly, a tender touch that spoke of the trust and affection that had always been the foundation of your relationship.
 
You watched as he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, his lips lingering on yours. You could feel his hand gently brushing your hair off your face, his touch sending a shiver through your body.
 
"You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense.
 
You smiled up at him, your heart racing. This was it, the moment you had been waiting for. You knew that it would be intense, that it would test your limits, but you trusted him completely.
 
"I'm yours," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
 
Spencer slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a testament to the desire that was coursing through you.
 
He stood up, towering over you, his body tense with anticipation. You could see the change in him, the alpha male dominance that had been dormant for so long beginning to surface.
 
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.
 
You nodded, your heart racing. You were ready for this, ready to explore the darker side of your desires.
 
With that, Spencer reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.
 
As you entered the bedroom, Spencer turned to face you, his eyes burning with intensity. He was no longer the gentle man you had known before, but a powerful and dominating presence that filled the room.
 
"Kneel," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.
 
You quickly obeyed, your heart pounding with excitement as you looked up at him. He stood over you, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on your face.
 
"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "And you will submit to me completely."
 
You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself to him completely. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet.
 
"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his voice firm.
 
You did as he commanded, feeling a thrill of excitement as you stripped down to your underwear. He watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your body. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.
 
He took a step forward, touching your skin for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body.
 
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
 
His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.
 
Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently. You arched your back, thrusting your chest out to meet his lips, and he took the other breast in his mouth as well.
 
He stood up, undressing himself as he did so. You watched, mesmerized, as his body revealed itself to you. He was everything you had imagined and more.
 
He stood in front of you, his erection hard and ready. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped you.
 
"No," he commanded, his voice firm. "I decide when you touch me.”
 
You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. You wanted so much to touch him, but you trusted him enough to follow his lead.
 
"Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and seductive.
 
You complied, your heart racing as you did so. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, and you were ready to give yourself to him completely.
 
Spencer stood behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're mine, and I'm going to take you in ways you've never imagined before."
 
He slowly began to touch your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body. His fingers moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.
 
Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently.
 
"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.
 
"Yes," you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.
 
As you spoke, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. His erection was now pressed against your back, a reminder of what was to come.
 
He guided you towards the bed, gently placing you down on the soft sheets. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, your heart pounding with excitement.
Spencer climbed on top of you, his body hovering above you. He looked into your eyes, his expression intense and full of desire.
 
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.
 
You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I trust you," you whispered. "I'm yours."
 
With that, he leaned down and kissed you passionately, his lips crushing against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, and tasting you, as if to mark his territory.
 
You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, matched only by your own. His hips moved against yours, his erection pulsing with desire, and you knew that this was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when you would give yourself completely to him.
 
He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. You could feel the tingle of his fingers on your skin, a reminder of the journey you were about to embark on.
 
He reached down and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. You felt the rush of dominance that flowed through him, a primal instinct that had been dormant for so long but was now fully alive.
 
"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "And you will do as I say."
 
His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race even faster. You could see the animalistic hunger in him, the raw desire that couldn't be contained any longer.
 
He leaned down and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, causing you to moan in pleasure. You could feel the heat of his body against your own, and you knew that there was no turning back now.
 
Spencer's lips moved up to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "You're going to love this."
 
You felt his erection throbbing against your thigh, a reminder of what was to come. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself completely to him.
 
He slowly moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers along your side until they reached your inner thigh. You could feel the heat and desire radiating from his body, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.
 
As his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin near your core, you felt a surge of pleasure and arousal coursing through your body. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, wanting more.
 
Spencer's hand continued to explore your body, moving lower and lower until he finally reached your most intimate place. He slowly slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and wetness that welcomed him.
 
You moaned softly, your body trembling with pleasure as his finger moved inside you. He pulled it out and brought it up to your lips, smearing your essence on them.
 
"Taste yourself," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.
 
You complied, licking his finger clean, savouring the taste of your own desire. It only fuelled your desire for him even more.
 
"You taste delicious, don’t you," Spencer whispered, his eyes burning with desire.
 
With his other hand, he slowly pulled your legs apart, spreading them wide open for him. You could feel the heat between your legs growing, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.
 
As his fingers continued to explore your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you like a tidal wave. You knew that you were completely at his mercy and that he was going to take you to places you never thought possible.
 
Spencer's hand continued to move between your legs, teasing and taunting you with its every touch. You were more than ready for him, your body trembling with anticipation, and yet he seemed to want to savour this moment.
 
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming quicker and quicker as you felt his fingers slowly enter you again. This time, he didn't stop, pulling out and plunging back in, faster and harder with each thrust.
 
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire. "I want you so bad."
 
You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.
 
"I'm going to make you scream my name," Spencer promised, his voice low and sultry.
 
As he continued to thrust into you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a rhythm that was both maddening and intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second.
 
“You look so beautiful like this, surrendering yourself to me, letting me make you moan like the slut you really are.” He whispered; his voice filled with lust.
 
Your body trembled in response, your arousal increasing with every word. You knew that you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every moment of it.
 
Spencer's fingers continued to move inside you, pulsing rhythmically with his thrusts. You could feel his erection growing harder and thicker against your thigh, and you knew that he was close.
 
"I want to hear you scream," Spencer hissed.
 
Just as you were about cum, he pulled a way, a small smirk on his face.
 
“Did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement.
 
You gasped, your body flush with disappointment but also anticipation. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was thrilling.
 
Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg for it," he whispered, “and remember when you are begging for it, you asked for this, you wanted this.”
 
He slowly put his fingers back in you, but his pace no longer fast, it was slow, and it was deliberate.
 
"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, your body craving the release that he was denying you.
 
“Is that all you’ve got baby? And is this all it’s taken me?” he taunted, his lips still brushing against your ear. "You're going to have to do better than that, little one."
 
His fingers moved in and out of you, teasing your most sensitive spot, and you knew that he was going to make you beg for it. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to cum.
 
And just like before he stopped, he wasn’t going to give in even though it was killing him not too. Your eyes were pleading with him, begging him to continue, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
 
“Now if I remember correctly, you brought toys to replace me while I was gone, didn’t you?” he smirked, his eyes locked on yours, “I think it’s time to put them to use.”
Spencer’s eyes were scanning the room, trying to see where you might have put them, he knew it wouldn’t have been in any of the normal places. That’s when his eyes landed on the wardrobe, and he looked back at you.
 
“I can see that look in your eyes, baby. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Now did you hide them in there, princess?”
 
You nod yes, unable to form any more words as you feel a surge of anticipation and desire.
 
Spencer walks over to the wardrobe and opens it, revealing a small collection of sex toys that you had purchased while he was away. He grabs a vibrator and a pair of handcuffs, his eyes never leaving yours.
 
"I knew you couldn't resist," he smirks, his voice filled with victory. "Now, let's see how much you can take, shall we?"
 
He walks back over to you, the vibrator in his hand, and secures your hands above your head with the handcuffs. You struggle slightly, but the desire coursing through you is too intense to resist.
 
You watch as Spencer approaches you, his eyes burning with hunger. He runs the tip of the vibrator along your sensitive skin, teasing you mercilessly.
 
"This is going to feel so good, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. His tone is commanding, and you have no choice but to obey.
 
He turns on the vibrator and presses it against your clit, and you let out a soft moan. The sensation is intense, and you can feel your body responding to it.
 
"That's it, baby," Spencer encourages. "You're so wet, so ready for me."
 
He pushes the vibrator inside you, and you feel it pulsate against your inner walls. "Take it all, you slut."
 
Your eyes roll back as the sensation overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. Spencer smiles slyly, watching as you lose control.
 
"There's my good girl," he purrs. "You're such a dirty little slut."
 
He increases the speed of the vibrator, and you arch your back, trying to get closer to the pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling with each pulse of the vibrator.
 
"Please," you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't stop."
 
Spencer grins, his eyes locked on yours. "Not yet baby. I want to see you beg for it."
 
He pulls the vibrator out of you and turns it off, leaving you desperate for more. You look at him in desperation, your pupils dilated, your breathing ragged.
 
"Please, Spencer," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "Please, I need it so badly."
 
He smirks at your desperation, his eyes never leaving yours. "You want it?”
 
With a sly grin, he takes the vibrator and runs it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You can't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response.
 
"Beg for it, baby," he commands, his voice a mix of desire and amusement. "Tell me how much you need it."
 
Your breath hitches in your throat, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second. "I need it so badly, Spencer. Please, I'm begging you."
 
He chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's my good girl. You know exactly what you want."
 
And with that, he pressed the vibrator back inside you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. It felt amazing, better than anything you had ever experienced before. He continued to tease you with the vibrator, moving it in and out of you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
 
"Please, Spencer," you pleaded, your voice shaking with need. "Please let me cum. Please make me cum."
 
He smirked at your desperation; his eyes locked on yours. "You're going to have to beg for it, my dear," he said, his voice low and sultry.
 
But you didn't care. You needed this. You needed him. And so, you let out a desperate moan, your body trembling with the need to cum. "Please, Spencer," you pleaded, "I need it so badly. Please make me cum.”
 
You were past the point of no return, Spencer's commands and denial only adding fuel to the fire. Your body was on fire, desperately craving the release he was denying you. You knew you could take it no longer, and yet, you found yourself begging for more.
 
"Please, Spencer," you moaned, your voice pleading. "Let me cum."
 
He chuckled, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "Not yet baby. I want to draw this out," he said, running the vibrator over your clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.
 
"Please, Spencer," you begged, your voice hoarse. "I need it so badly."
 
He smirked, a devilish look on his face. "But you're forgetting something, you asked for this. You wanted to be treated like a slut, but now you’re begging for me to make you cum?”
 
You knew you needed to beg for it. You needed to surrender to him, to let him have control over your body, your mind, your very being.
 
"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, "please make me cum. Please, I can't take it anymore.”
 
He took the vibrator and ran it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You could feel the pulsating sensation building up inside you, your body arching towards him in response.
 
"Please, Spencer," you begged. "I need it so badly."
 
He chuckled; his eyes locked on yours. "You really are a dirty slut, aren't you?"
 
You nodded, your mind reeling with the intensity of the experience. Spencer did take some pity on you; he could see your eyes were filling with tears and he did love to watch you cum.
 
"That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice full of desire. "Beg for it, let me hear how much you need it."
 
You choked out the words, your voice rough with need. "Please, Spencer. Please make me cum. I need it so badly."
 
He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, aren't you the perfect slut?"
 
With that, he turned on the vibrator and ran it over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, your hips bucking against the vibrator.
 
"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice filled with command. “Cum for me, letting me see what I can do to you.”
 
And with that, you felt the orgasm building up inside you, closer and closer until you couldn't take it anymore. You let out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling the waves rush through your body as you finally succumbed to the desire that had been building up inside you.
 
"That's it, baby," Spencer said, his voice filled with triumph. "You're mine, every bit of you, and you'll never forget this moment."
 
You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling completely spent. Your body was trembling, your mind was still reeling from the sensations you had just experienced. You felt like you had been pushed to the limit and beyond, but you also knew that you had never felt more alive.
 
As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission, a feeling of being completely under Spencer's control. You knew that you had begged for it, and you had enjoyed every moment of it.
 
Spencer leaned down and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "That was incredible, baby. You'll always be my dirty little slut."
 
You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride in the role you had played in this scene. You knew that you had given him exactly what he wanted, and that feeling of power was exhilarating.
 
“Now I am going to go get some water, because that was intense.” You watched as Spencer got up to go get some water, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for him.
 
You knew that Spencer was also going to need so aftercare, because that was his first time doing something like this, but you also knew you were going to have to drink before you could do anything.
~join the taglist~
~taglist~
@iluvreid @nomajdetective @drspencieee@katieeeee314@evvy96 @oliviah-25 @starkid024 @emalynvtgtgfhvgg @krokietino @xohoneybun @spencerreidwifeee @purplepistachi0 @pleasantwitchgarden@bitchassbecky691 @piperb400@queermaxwooo @gemofthenight @topguncultleader @luvpiercethekaty@anna-belle-xd @catsareawesomek @drreidsfavwhxre @oureternalbond@beth-gallagher22 @keiva1000 @k3nzxx@lookingforgodintheclouds @firstunmannedflyingdeskset @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @r-3dlips @keiva1000 @peppersapro @just-a-harmless-patato @miss.daianaa
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violetrainbow412-blog · 9 months
Text
Wearing pink [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x bimbo!reader
word count: 2.7k
request: Hear me out... Spencer introducing bimbo f!reader to the squad! 😭🩷
A/N: Honestly, I had never written anything like this and I hope it is the correct idea of a bimbo. I based her on some TV characters, so (if you're a fan of this type of reader) I hope you like it!
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“Baby, you're so nervous,” Spencer giggled, listening to the click of your heels from one side of the apartment to the other to check that everything was in order.
“I'm not nervous, I just want everything to look nice” you complained. Your gaze went to your boyfriend, who was wearing an elegant suit that you had bought for him last month, and you noticed that his tie was a little crooked. You immediately went in front of him and your hands acted on their own to accommodate it, as they had done so many times.
It was the first time Spencer's unit mates would see you and you wanted to make the best impression of all. You kept asking if the dishes looked good, if your skirt was smooth, if your hair was combed, if your makeup looked good. And each time he just smiled and nodded, recording how precious you were.
Honestly, the fact that the team found out about your existence was mere coincidence, the result of an unfortunate event that ended up unmasking Spencer. He had spent the night with you, since the cases had kept him too busy the last few weeks, and when he left the room, he only gave you a kiss on the forehead so as not to disturb your sleep. Although he wasn't very hungry, his body was in desperate need of coffee, so he opened your cupboard for something to take back to the office. Everything in your kitchen, which you hardly ever used, was pink, lilac, or any pastel variation of a few others, so it was a relief for him to find a single black thermos. Without paying much attention, he took it, poured the hot liquid, and then walked out.
There was no case, yet, so he sat down at his desk after waving to Morgan and Emily. He felt his phone vibrate and he thought it was a message from JJ, but he found that it was you who was contacting him.
Hey, are you leaving without saying goodbye? 
He smiled inadvertently and apologized saying that you looked so pretty that he hadn't wanted to disturb your calm. I could almost imagine you blushing from your soft bed.
Okay then. Good luck today, handsome. 
Love u xx
"No way! Are you a plastic girl?" Garcia yelled, from his partner's side. Spencer jumped a little when he heard her and it seemed she had caught everyone's attention.
“A what?”
"Your cup" the woman stretched out her hand to pick up said object and showed it to the rest: it had a bright pink print, with some images of a blonde girl and various objects, including a text written with something like newspaper clippings. which enunciated Burn Book.
"Where did you get that, Reid?"
"Who is she?"
“It's Regina George, from the movie Mean Girls. You don’t know her?" Prentiss muttered and at first, he immediately denied it.
“On Wednesdays we wear pink,” Garcia quoted, hoping he would have a clue, and again he showed he didn't know what they were talking about. But after taking a closer look at it, he suddenly remembered that he had looked at a poster with her somewhere in your room and it all made sense.
“When I took it, it was black”
"It's probably one of those magical cups that reveal the image with heat"
“Thermochromism?”
"I guess that's the scientific term"
"So where did you get it from? Did it just show up at your house by chance?"
"No, it was at my girlfriend's house"
At that, Emily's eyes widened, Garcia gasped loudly, and Morgan, who inconveniently just took a gulp of his coffee, almost choked on the hot liquid.
Penelope almost took the doctor by the neck to ask him why he had omitted such important information and he only shrugged his shoulders and replied that he had never commented on it because they had never asked.
It didn't take long for Garcia to yell at the missing team members what they had just found out and pretty soon JJ and Rossi were also gathered around the man to find out what was going on. To everyone's dismay, Hotch interrupted almost immediately, and they didn't manage to ask Spencer any questions. And he said it would be better if they were that curious to ask her themselves.
“Reid, I swear you don't even introduce us to that girl I'll never talk to you again” Garcia had threatened him, clearly exaggerating just to convince him.
When Spencer saw you again, he filled you in on the whole situation and asked if you were okay with hosting a unit dinner, to which you happily agreed.
"Everything looks immaculate, you don't have to worry," he assured you, taking both of your hands and leaning in to kiss you.
"But what if they don't like me?"
"What reason would they have for that, huh?" he insisted, holding your face in his hands. He really liked your lip gloss, it always tasted delicious and made your lips look flawless. 
"Because they're like mega-cool detectives and I... well, I won't even know what to tell them."
"Let them ask the questions, I assure you they will be dying to know everything about you" he smiled at you, quite confident that the evening would go perfectly. It was the first time Spencer had introduced the team to a couple, so they would behave prudently. Or at least so he hoped.
The sound of the doorbell caught your attention and you practically jumped towards the door to open it for whoever was there, but not before asking your boyfriend for the thousandth time to make sure you looked good. When you opened it, you saw a blonde woman and a bald man who, from Spencer's stories, you assumed were Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan. They asked your name and you agreed, finishing verifying that it was the place with the presence of your friend behind you.
"Hello! We thought we had the wrong house” she sighed, completely nervous, and Morgan didn't even say hello because he had been stunned to see you.
You were very pretty, generally speaking, you were wearing a white skirt, a tight top, and a light baby pink sweater, plus huge heels that made you almost level with your boyfriend. You were like a model and it's not that he didn't trust his friend's flirting skills, but that you had simply exceeded his expectations of him.
You received them with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, while they secretly observed the place. Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ soon arrived, in exactly that order, and when they were all assembled, they took seats at the table. Spencer helped you serve dinner, which you had ordered from your favorite restaurant, and pretty soon all of you were eating and drinking the wine that David Rossi had brought as a gift.
Although the conversation had been pleasant during the first few minutes, it was obvious that everyone wanted to ask you questions, quite surprised to see the type of girl you were and how they never imagined that their friend would fit in with someone like that.
"So since when are you guys dating?" Emily murmured, trying to be nice, but also dying of curiosity.
"What will they be now, love? About six months?” you said, reaching out to hold his hand on the table.
“Six months, fourteen days, and seventeen hours”
"He's the mathematician here, so you can listen to him" you joked and the others laughed. The courtship time somewhat dismayed the team, because, although they didn’t blame him, they wished they had known sooner.
"And how did you two meet?"
“Oh, for my dad. Spencer went to give a conference to his police officers in New York a while ago and he asked him for a private consultation on a case that had been giving everyone a headache. When he helped him figure it out, Dad was so grateful that he invited him to dinner so he could meet our family. My parents loved him so I thought of it as a sign and we kept in touch after that."
"Now I understand why he kept looking at his phone and smiling in his spare time," Morgan muttered to embarrass him, like an older brother would, and the team laughed at the memory.
"And who is your father?" Rossi asked. Reid had never mentioned what had happened, but still you seemed familiar to the man, as if he had seen you somewhere before.
“He worked for a few years as a police chief here in Virginia, but now last year he got promoted to the commissioner or something; his name is Joseph Sanders”
You probably had no idea how important that position was to police officers, but they all exchanged glances as if you had just told them that you were the daughter of the President of the United States himself. Rossi immediately snapped his fingers as he winced, telling you that of course he knew your father and that he had seen you when you were a girl of maybe ten years old. The others only weighed in on the fact that Reid was now the commissioner's son-in-law.
“Hey and, no offense, but how did you fall in love with our boy wonder? He's always been a bit shy”
Now it was your boyfriend who was worried that they might make him uncomfortable or point out the clear difference between the two of you, but your carefree giggles put him at ease every time.
"It is enough to see that face to do it, don't you think?" you responded affectionately and the girls smiled at your response.
"Actually, she called me to invite me to have coffee after dinner with her father and although at first I thought it was hopeless I realized that she liked spending time with me and that's why I kept asking her out”
“He was so sweet. Flowers, chocolates, dinners. The whole package"
“Yes, well, it's that I did a little research on the best courtship methods and found common factors like that in most of them. It was only necessary to combine it with the right environment and make some modifications to them so that they were pleasant in front of you. Did you know that in the 19th century it was well seen that men…?”
"Reid," Derek interrupted, as a signal for him to stop rambling, and his friends smiled at the doctor's soft apology.
“Half the time I don't understand what he's saying, but I love hearing him talk,” you said sincerely. He had never taken that as an offense, because, although many people didn't understand his talks about him either, at least you always paid attention to him "I honestly don't know how a person can have a brain of that size"
“In fact, brains don’t vary in size but rather in areas of development, so it is incorrect to say that one person has a bigger brain than another. In such a case, one person has a more developed brain than the other”
The group looked at him accusingly again and he was about to feel guilty, but your lips crashing a kiss on his cheek considerably improved his mood.
After many more questions, everyone was able to realize that you and Spencer couldn't be more than complete opposites. You loved everything that Reid didn't know and he knew a lot of things that didn't matter to you. There were no books in your house, if glossy magazines counted for anything, and Spencer didn't even have a modern cell phone. Your house vibrated with pink and expensive things, while he only cared that there would be a bed to sleep in when he got home. But even with everything you looked really in love and the team wondered how that was possible.
Although you tremendously admired the man's capabilities that wasn’t the most important thing to you, but his wonderful beauty of him. He was someone who drew attention with his eccentricity, that every time he walked into a room he left a mark and someone many women wished they had, which he didn't even notice. And by becoming your boyfriend, without any explicit sense of ownership or anything, he had become all yours.
You liked holding his hand in the streets, you liked that he came to work and the clients were surprised when he kissed you, that everyone said how lucky you were to have found a man like that. Besides, he had passed one of the most important tests: he had your parents' approval, which was usually not an easy thing to come by.
And right now, it seemed that you were winning the sympathy of your boyfriend's family too, because the fact of seeing him so happy by your side was reason enough for them to like you and, therefore, also approve of you.
When it was time to eat dessert, the girls invited you to go shopping with them one day and all the compliments from the men were related to your last name, even astonished that Spencer now belonged to the spheres of high police society. They told you many things about themselves and you, with some effort, tried to take it all in.
"It was a great pleasure meeting you, you can come back here any day you like," you said to say goodbye, once the night was already quite advanced and they decided that the best thing (for the comfort of both the hosts and the guests) would be to leave. 
“The pleasure was ours, Y/N”
Just like at the beginning, they kissed your cheek, and one by one they left, giving you kind words of thanks, until only you and Spencer were left.
"How was I?" you immediately asked your boyfriend, who was already looking at you out of the corner of his eye with a smile.
“Perfect”
"You think so?"
"I know it" he assured you, moving closer to you to hold you by the waist and causing your skirt to ride a little higher to the height of your butt "They loved you"
“But can you believe your friend Emily was wearing flats with that dress? It's not right and I didn't mean to be rude by mentioning it, but I died when I saw it” you started to babble, still under Spencer's grasp “And your friend Penelope has such a…quirky style. She wears colors that shouldn't mix, but somehow it looks good on her. And your boss, Aaron, shouldn't wear a suit jacket with a casual shirt. The others were relatively good, but the next time I see Jennifer I'll be sure to treat her to a moisturizer for her skin”
"And leaving that aside, did they at least make a good impression on you?" he laughed. He wasn't upset with you, it was inevitable that you would notice that kind of 'signs of bad taste' as you called them.
“Oh, they are adorable. You can tell that they love you very much, everyone speaks with admiration of you. Even your friend Derek, even though he tried to annoy you every so often."
“Yeah, I'll make him pay” he muttered under his breath, making you smile.
Carefully you reached up to reach his lips with a kiss and he sighed pathetically into your mouth as you clung to his body. Your skin was so smooth wherever he touched, as if you were a delicate piece of porcelain in his big hands.
“I hope you had a good time”
“Of course I did, sweetie. I already told you, you were perfect"
Perfect. You loved that he described you that way.
"Do you have to go home?"
"Probably. Why?"
"Oh, it's nothing. I just thought maybe we could go to my room. I bought something new that I think you'll like” you said innocently, while you held him by the tie that you had arranged so carefully at the beginning of the evening. Upon hearing this, he wasted no time and carried you in a bridal pose, taking you there while you laughed out loud.
No one questioned Spencer when he arrived later than usual the next morning, smelling of cherry shampoo and with a suspicious purplish mark, knowing that the only one to blame for that would have to be you.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14
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de4dlyniightshade · 3 months
Note
Dunno if u have seen it but I’d really love ur version of the NSFW alphabet for Spencer Reid
(Not sure if that really counts as a Drabble or a super long headcanon. I tried to go thru ur blog and I didn’t see where u had done 1 before!!)
ON IT!!!
doing it with sub!spencer ofc<3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): super sleepy and cuddly, just wants you to hold him and kiss him and play with his hair. also goes borderline nonverbal, just wants to be in your company.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): his favourite body part on himself is honestly probably his brain ngl BUT otherwise i'd say his hair, he takes good care of his hair and takes the time to make sure it looks nice so i'd say his hair. as for on you probably your hips or eyes, your eyes is the answer he tells people but actually he just loves gripping your hips and pinching the fatty skin there and placing kisses on your hipbones.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): loves cumming in you. so much. but also loves cumming on you, more specifically cumming on your pussy after fucking you, the way it looks running over you just making his head spin.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): pervert. not a creepy pervert but still a pervert. will stick around if he walks in on you changing, stare at your boobs and ass when he thinks you don't see him, shamefully touches your underwear for longer than he should when he's doing laundry, will spend a good while scanning your body while you sleep, especially if you're wearing shorts or a tank top.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): not experienced. has no idea what he's doing. he tries his best and learns fast but he needs a lot of guidance and care but he prefers you taking control anyway.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): cowgirl. nothing beats getting ridden in his mind, the sight of you on top of him, your boobs bouncing with each thrust and the way you gripped his waist.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): i wouldn't say he's serious but he's not humorous either, whenever your touching him he just becomes a moaning mess and can hardly think for himself, just completely lost in the pleasure.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): not shaved bald but definitely trimmed, if not for your benefit then definitely for his own.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): soooo lovey, just holding you and kissing you and snuggling into you and telling you that he loves you and thanking you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): definitely jerks off a lot when you're apart because he just gets really sexually frustrated without you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): mommy kink!!!
L = Location (favorite places to do the do): bed first, always, it's just more private and intimate but he also likes it on the couch but that's more of a spur of the moment thing.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): anything and everything. you smiled at him? horny. kissed him? extra horny. hugged him? horny. literally anything you do can get him going.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): blindfolds on him for obvious reasons, also domming, he just can't do it.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): giving all the way!!! even if he's not that good at it he puts his heart and soul into it. more often than not he gets carried away and forgets he's trying to get you to cum bcs he just loves to taste you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): loves it fast but not too rough if that makes sense? like he doesn't wanna hurt afterwards and whenever he's on top he just gets so caught up that he can't help but fuck you desperately.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): likes them a lot and however often you're up for it, especially before work. definitely walks into that building with a real pep in his step after a quickie in the morning.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): definitely game to experiment with a lot of things you wanna try, but nothing too crazy like he wouldn't be into slapping or extreme bondage, but a little tying up he's game for.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): not many. he gets easily overwhelmed and overstimulated bcs he's just so sensitive. can go three rounds at very best.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): doesn't own toys himself but if you do he uses them on you, more specifically if you had a vibrator he'd use it on you when you're tired. also let's you use a vibrator on him, the feeling of it pressed to his tip making him cum embarrassingly fast. not to forget pegging, would let you peg him or use a dildo on him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): not at all, you're more the one to tease him but he doesn't have enough patience or self control to tease you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): very loud and doesn't even realise it, he just gets so lost in his own mind that he can't even hear himself.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): loves being bitten by you, not aggressively enough that it hurts too bad but if he was on top and you bit into his shoulder when you came he'd definitely follow quick after.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): around 7 inches, not too thick but not too thin either, curved upwards slightly, the prettiest pink tip and not overly veiny but definitely a few. also i feel like he has pretty nipples idc.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): very high, needy alllllll the time like could go at it at the drop of a hat it doesn't matter what time of day he could be rock hard in seconds for you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): pretty quickly depending on the time, if it was one of those morning quickies ofc he can't but otherwise he tries to stay awake but never manages to actually stay awake that often.
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railingsofsorrow · 10 months
Note
Oh my god!! I need a second part of purple scarf asap. Honestly the best fic I’ve ever read YOU DID SO GOOD.
Maybe with a little smut? I loved it wow
Green-eyed monster
[spencer reid x reader]
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A/N: heey, anon! I don't write smut sorry :( but there are some hints towards it? perhaps. I hope you like it and thank you for the kind words!
summary: a consultant on a case drives you mad. the team seems to know the reason why, all except for the man with an IQ of 187. or. . . in which this is the sequel for this. it can be read as a standalone though.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader
w.c: 3.1K
warnings/content: jealousy jealousy jealousy (if the title wasn't clear enough); some light female rivalry; discussions about possessiveness; teasing; making out; allusions to sexual content (nothing explicit) and a tiny hint towards bdsm? but you blink you miss it; also, rossi's got some jokes.
navi
masterpost
[requested]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
You don't lose patience quickly. You consider yourself to be a very patient person who is always questioning whether or not the situation was worthy over being stressed. It usually wasn't, so you'd take a deep breath and either fix the problem so it went away on its own or you faced it right away.
This time, you decided on the former. Because when someone keeps flirting with your boyfriend right in front of you — in a work environment nonetheless — while disrupting his personal space — really, what it is with people and not being aware of that minimum 0,5 inches gap? You do not need to be up on someone's face to have a simple conversation!
“Here.” A glass of water appears in your line of sight and you avert your attention from across the room to stare at it in confusion. Rossi is waiting expectantly beside you. “For you. You seem to need it since you keep on scoffing. Sore throat?”
That sassy Italian irony, huh?
You give him an eye roll as a response and he chuckled when you actually take the glass from his hold.
When Hotch called all of you over a case in your day-off, you didn't expect to grit your teeth as much as you were right now. You left your bed along with Spencer's warm body to go to the Bureau and have shameless flirting displayed in a public space. For godness sake.
“Agent Y/L/N.”
You really don't lose your cool over nothing.
But this isn't nothing.
Also, you do not consider yourself a jealous person, you see? But Agent Mayfield was pushing her luck.
“Yes, Agent Mayfield?” You replied in the same overly sweet tone she gave you. You're a profiler and you're damn good at your job, but it didn't need much to notice her aversion towards some people on the team, if not everyone. And you weren't the only who felt the same, given the not-so-subtly eyeroll from JJ.
The dirty blonde woman smiled at you. You didn't smile back. “You seem to have forgotten the files from—”
“It's on your desk.” You said shortly, turning back to the medical files you had to get through to find a pattern in the UnSub's M.O.
“I didn't see it.”
You hummed.
Well, of course not. If you hadn't been all over Doctor Reid than maybe you would have seen it.
“I just put it there, you can see it now.”
There was a pause, and then, “Thank you.”
“You're very welcome.”
There was a clear of throat and a soft chuckle around the briefing room but you didn't gave much thought to it. Until Derek made a comment.
“Slow down, Tiger.” He said, patting your shoulder before leaving the room with a laugh upon feeling your glare in his direction.
“Why do you need slowing down?”
You let out a long sigh. It wasn't Spencer's fault. That was completely out of the question, you knew he wasn't responding back to Agent Mayfield's flirting — he probably wasn't even aware of it, if you were honest — but the woman unnerved you 100%.
He placed your mug in front of you, the smell of coffee immediately reaching your nostrils and calming your senses. Maybe that's what your body were lacking and that's what it required to tune down your annoyance. Spencer was smiling at you and your forehead smoothed out. He's such an angel.
“Don't know,” You shrug, lifting the mug to your lips. Yes, not too sweet or watered-down. You give him a half smile in appreciation. “Derek is mad.”
“Doctor Reid, I need your input on something, do you mind?”
You refuse the scoff, looking at your side when you see Emily studying you. But someone else was inspecting your every move as well, you notice it when Spencer turns back to you after nodding in affirmation to Agent Mayfield.
“Is everything alright?” He questioned, warm fingers grazing your forearm warily. Of course Spencer knew something was off, he didn't have a major in psychology just because. He recognized your actions in a way you couldn't do it if you paid enough attention to yourself. Once, he made a comment about the supposedly meaning of when you licked your lips in different situations and you just stood there and listened, in complete bewilderment. He noticed a lot, to say the least. Not what's right under his nose, though.
“I'm good.” You shrug, grabbing one of the pictures in your messy circle of clues. You'd have to ask for Penelope's magic on this one. “You better go, duty awaits.” Your tone was extra chirpy and he just knew that was sarcasm. You know, Spencer Reid might be terrible with social cues, but he was familiar with everything that was related to you. And that edge in your voice made him slightly concerned.
Had he done something? He travels back to every single interaction from the two of you since you left his apartment — your apartment, too. You hadn't moved in (yet) but you did spend most of your time there. That place was just as yours as it was his, now. He loves saying that — but nothing out of ordinary comes to mind. You had breakfast, crawled back in the covers because it was supposed to be your day-off and intertwined your limbs for about one hour straight before Hotch made the call. You didn't look mad at him. You didn't sound mad at him when you left together, or on your way to work. Why did you sounded and looked mad now?
Fiddling distractedly with his scarf, he followed Agent Mayfield into her temporary office. She was a consultant in the newest case you were working on, Hotch brought her in because she had history with this kind of UnSub. Apparently, she went through a similar case back then.
Spencer got confused every time she asked him a question. Not that he minded, he loved to talk and loved when people seemed interested in what he had to say. But Mayfield was an expert in the area, she knew all of the questions she was asking him and he was aware that she knew because of her reaction. She was a nice person. Smiled a lot, too.
“What do you think, Doctor Reid? Am I in the right mindset?” He blinked away from the board where she had shown him a possible location the UnSub was hiding. The red dot stared at him as a sweet perfume unnerved his senses. Oh, she had gotten closer. Too close.
“Uh, yes. I believe so.” He frowned, taking a step back. She also didn't seem to get the meaning of boundaries because she stepped forward again. The smile quirking up a smirk. “Maybe—uh, maybe we should inform Hotch. Have you—”
“Doc,” She laughed, staring him up and down. “Are you afraid of me? Why do you keep waking back? I won't bite.”
“Okay,” Spencer deadpanned, swallowing hard. What was happening? He felt the table against his fingers and stopped moving back but Agent Mayfield kept on marching forward. “You—”
Tilting her head to the side, she raised a hand to touch the fabric around his neck, eyes traveling over it with curiosity and something else he couldn't translate when her blue orbs locked with his amber ones.
“Nice scarf you got there.” She purred, he could see her eyeshadow clearly form how close she was. It was starting to make him feel uncomfortable, the feeling of fight or flight arriving little by little as his hands gripped the table behind his back.
Spencer nodded nervously, “Thank you, my girlfriend gave it to me.” The air shifted as soon as he let the words out. Her movements freezing before they reached his neck. Thank god.
“Oh,” she muttered, sounding surprised and slightly disappointed “Your girlfriend?”
Spencer pulled the fabric away from her hold, taking advantage of her thoughtful stance to hop to the side and release himself from the cage she had locked him in. “Yes,” he said, adjusting his scarf around his neck. “She likes knitting.” Spencer didn't know why he said that, he didn't know a lot of things right now just that urge to flight the scene as if he was in imminent danger. “You got it all right. We should inform Hotch, this will help.” A tight-lipped smile was the last thing he sent her way before he fled the room.
When Hotch explains they're going to follow a new lead provided by Agent Mayfield, you are one of the first to reach for your bulletproof vest, until a hand curls around your shoulder.
“You're staying.” Hotch says, earning a look of disbelief from you. “You haven't been cleared for the field.” He gives you an unimpressed look which you know it means a warning if anything else.
“Hotch, it's been a month!”
“And you haven't been cleared, I need you and Garcia to work together.”
That's how everybody — but you — leaves for the newest location. The lead ends up being right and they find the man, you're in Penelope's office when they arrive back at the Bureau. It's around 10 p.m and you can't hold yourself back from yawning as you follow Penelope to meet your friends in the bullpen.
Emily's eyes glisten with something as she sees you come around the corner. She walks over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder as you gaze at her from the corner of your eye suspiciously. “You won't believe who made the arrest.” She whispers in your ear.
You let out a scoff, “I think I have a hunch.” You mumble, eyes scanning around the room unconsciously until you find what your heart always searched for on a daily basis. Your gazes find each other and you offer him a smile.
“I was waiting for you to punch her guts, to be honest. You disappointed me.”
“I'm being professional, Emily. Not that you can relate.”
Emily flicks your forehead, and you whine playfully. “Menace. Now go talk to your lover so he can stop with that puppy dog look. It's depressing.” Your mouth stretches into a grin and you offer her your tongue in a very mature say before leaving her side to cross the room.
“Hey,” you greet Spencer with a warm smile. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Are you mad at me?” He blurts out at the same time you spoke. Confusion drew your brows together.
“Why would I be mad at you, Spencer?”
“You were gritting your teeth and your shoulders were tense which means you seemed to be holding back to snap and upset about something.” He rambled out, clutching the strap of his go-back that he hasn't even put it down yet. “Your eyebrows, they do this thing where you lift one and scoff right after.” Oh, so he noticed that to? You weren't even aware of the eyebrow twitch yourself. You weren't even going to complain about his profiling, you were more concerned about the fact that you made him feel as if he had done something wrong. Which wasn't the case. “Did I do something?” His voice lowers when someone passes by you. You decide you were to public for you to discuss the topic so you pull his wrist towards the conference room.
You shut the door quietly and turn around to face your boyfriend that carries a slightly heartbreaking expression.
“Spencer.” you called out softly, leaning your hand towards his and intertwining your fingers as you pull him closer. He lets out a sighs in relief with the way you were reacting. She's not mad anymore, good. “I'm not mad.” The promise goes out in a whisper as your hands left his to wrap around his neck. The scarf is there, it's always there. Your fingers curl around it slowly and he's too busy burying his nose on the croak of your neck to pay attention to anything else.
He makes a sound of protest when you lean away but you proceed to shut him up by crashing your lips together. The immediate reaction is to enfold your waist with his hands, you can feel his warmth when your shirt raises exposing a bit of your skin.
A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you wrap a hand around his neck to create a little space between you two. It's not harsh, you're barely applying pressure on the area, but it's the reason his pupils are dilated when he glances down at you.
“I'm not mad because I know that you know who you come home to every day.” The contrast between your honeyed tone and your stern gaze is palpable, Spencer walked that path before and he knows what it means. “Don't you, love?” He's not sure which of his responses is appropriate for a work environment so he simply swallowed hard and nodded.
You hum, smile turning into a soft grin. Your whole stance shifting when you peck his lips again, adjusting his sweater vest as if absolutely nothing had happened.
Like an investigation board, every clue seems to click in his mind. The code arrives to his brain and the information was so clear that it must have looked like he ignored the signs because it was convenient.
You're jealous.
And Spencer must say, it looks quite good on you.
Before you leave the conference room you had come to hide in for a few minutes, he stops you from sliding out the room by hooking two of his fingers to the waistband of your pants and bringing you back to him. He unwraps the scarf around his neck to involve it around yours. It's not an unfamiliar action, he's done it a few times through the course of your relationship. It's something that he enjoys doing, truth be told. Except that, in a room filled with profilers, it conveys a whole other meaning. Although he just needs it to be conveyed to one person.
There's a six feet distance within you when you step back into the bullpen. Most of the people have dissipated, only your inner circle left, except from Rossi, he went home already.
Oh, and Agent Mayfield was saying goodbye to everyone as well. You had to hold back the eyeroll as she approached you. You could see JJ from above Mayfield's shoulder, cracking up beside Penelope, who was asking her to be quiet. The entire FBI building seemed to quiet down for a minute.
“Agent Y/L/N,” she gave you that fake sweet smile, showing off her teeth as she offered a hand for you to shake. You really thought about ignoring it or in throwing out the number of pathogens passed during a handshake to avoid doing it — like your precious boyfriend usually did. “A pleasure working with you. I hope the opportunity comes another time.”
You shake her hand, despite your inner protests. However, every action has its consequences, right? That's why something akin to pride bursts through your chest when her attention freezes on your neck. It's good, it's really good to see Agent Mayfield clears her throat and walk out of the room as if the best team of profilers weren't scrutinizing her every move.
“Oh, my god.” Emily mumbles, rolling her shoulders back with a groan. The atmosphere had switched from tense to a much more relaxed environment. “That was brutal.”
“I know what was brutal.” Derek kicked Spencer's chin, to which the younger replied with a frown. “The rejection you gave her. And that,” he points at you, shaking his head playfully as he throws the strap of his bad around his shoulder. “That's just possessiveness, princess.”
“Yeah, I don't know which one of you is worse, to be honest.” JJ raises her hands and turns back to grab her stuff.
Shrugging with an innocent expression, you say, “I've no idea what you're on about.” Penelope makes a joke and Hotch bids everyone goodbye because he'll try to see Jack before he falls asleep.
The parking lot is dark and the wind travels fast to bring you a cold breeze. When you reach your car, you notice the key is on your bag, that Spencer was currently carrying. Before you ask, a kiss is pressed against your temple and you're being pushed to the opposite side.
“I'm driving.” He clarifies when you look back at him with a puzzled gaze.
“You hate driving.” You say, putting your seatbelt on. “... particularly at night.”
“I don't hate it. It's just not my favourite thing to do, besides...” He gives you a pointed look after turning on the engine. “You're tired.”
“I'm not,” you replied stubbornly, but complains nothing else. You are tired. Despite not going to the field like everyone else, being on the office was just as much work.
Silence fills the car in its comfortable form. You're lulled to sleep with Spencer's harsh breaks and his soft humming to a pop song on the radio. He gently wakes you up when you've arrived in his place.
As you're fluttering your eyes open, you know the peace is about to be disturbed by the smug look in his pretty face. “Possessiveness, uh?” He murmurs, laugh echoing when you slap his arm as your face heats up. You have no idea what took over you a few moments ago. Well, you do know. But you weren't about to give in to him that easily. “You know you're the only one, right? I don't have eyes for anyone else.”
The truth slipping out of his tongue is completely unnecessary, but welcomed. Reassurance is important, even if you trusted Spencer in the tip of a cliff with eyes closed.
“I know.” You say, smiling when he leans into your palm. Drawing invisible patterns in his cheek, you pull him closer to close your gap. This time, the kiss doesn't carry anything other than tenderness.
Now it's his turn to grips the scarf, he holds both ends, tugging you impossibly closer. “And you,” he stares down at your lips, teasingly. “... you are who I'll always want to come home to. No doubt in that. Understood?”
You let out a hum in contentment while kissing him as an answer. One hundred percent understood.
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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months
Text
In This Diary | S.R
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Summary - The summer of ‘02 was supposed to be just like any summer that had come before. Spencer Reid was mostly hoping to relax before his started his new job at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the fall. But best laid plans often go awry.
Now all these years later he’s come into possession of the diary he kept during that time and he’s forced on a trip down memory lane to a perfect Las Vegas summer in which he fell in love for the very first time. But if he’s not careful, he might allow himself to get so lost in his nostalgia he may not be able to drag himself back to the present.
A/N - this goes back and forth a lot in time, I hope it makes sense. Where there’s a page break it goes back to the present day. Based on the song In This Diary by The Ataris. Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge. Thank you again @pinkiceee-prose and @andiebeaword for reading over this 🖤
Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - angst with happy ending | strangers to friends to lovers | smut minors DNI
Warnings - post prison, pot smoking, virgin Spencer, slight sub! Spencer, use of “good boy”, mild praise kink (Spencer), handjob, swearing, fingering, masturbation (m), brief mention of medication but no specifics, talk of PTSS, angst, allusions to sex, brief mention of protected sex, oral (m receiving), brief mention of past addiction and Emily’s “death”.
WC - 10.3k honestly I can’t write anything short
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Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…
The dogeared, weathered pages told their age beneath his fingertips, speaking their tales through skin. Smudged ink seeped through the yellowing paper, penned words of a different time etched to hold their memory. 
His fingers danced across them as though reading braille, trying to feel the words the way he had when he'd written them. So much time had passed, so much had changed, this book felt like it was from a different lifetime.
If he closed his eyes he could feel himself there. He could feel the way the hot Vegas sun beat down on him, causing little beads of sweat to roll down his face, feeling it tightening his skin. He could sense the pen in his hand as he scrawled down his thoughts, committing them to these pages. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Just writing.” 
“Writing what?” 
“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” 
“You have an eidetic memory, dork.” 
He could feel the gravel beneath him, hear the occasional passing vehicle on the freeway whilst hanging out at truck stops just to pass the time. 
He could see fireworks illuminating the sky in desolate parking lots, hear their crackle and bang as they exploded and then disappeared. 
He could hear the thrum of the eighties songs through tinny speakers, even if he never really enjoyed them. He could feel the droplets of water on his frazzled skin from the splash back of a body diving into the hotel pool which was not strictly open to the public. 
It was another life, one he’d long ago left behind but still carried pieces of it with him. 
I guess when it comes down to it, being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up…
“Whatcha got there?” 
A voice snapped him out of his nostalgia and he quickly closed the old book and looked up from his desk. He blinked a few times to try and bring himself back to the present, back from memory lane which he’d started to get lost down. 
Spencer Reid was not known to be a sentimental man, in all honesty he had few good memories from his past to be wistful over. And now was not the time to start. 
Luke had an amused smirk on his lips as he looked down at the younger man and the old, tattered journal on his desk. 
“Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” Spencer swallowed with a shake of his head. 
“Looked like a diary.” Luke’s smile grew, his intense dark eyes full of mirth. “I saw a date in the corner? August twenty ninth two thousand and two. You'd have been…”
“Twenty two. I was twenty two. The summer before I joined the BAU.” He sighed as he spoke, not thrilled to be sharing this part of his life with Luke. 
It was unfounded, given that it was probably the happiest time of his life. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want his friends to know about it. 
There was something about keeping the memory pure, not having it sullied by outsiders. That secret summer belonged only to the two people who had lived it. 
“I didn't peg you for a journaler.” Luke shrugged. 
“I’m not usually. I don’t really know why I kept a diary that summer.” 
That wasn’t entirely true. He’d kept a record of those days in case, for whatever reason, his memory failed him. If something happened to cause his brain to forget, that was one time in his life he wanted to ensure he’d never lose. 
And since his mothers diagnosis, it was an entirely real possibility that one day he may forget. There were many moments in his life he’d like to be able to neglect, his drug addiction, Gideon’s death, prison; but the summer of ‘02 was not one of them. 
In truth he’d forgotten all about the journal. It wasn’t until his mothers move to DC when he’d been going through old boxes of her stuff that he’d found it. 
“Can I read it?” Luke’s smile turned cheeky, he already knew what the answer would be but he was just trying his luck. 
As expected, Spencer scowled, grabbing the diary and holding it close to his chest as if he believed Luke might try to snatch it from his desk.
“Absolutely not.” He wrapped it tightly against his body. 
“Ooh there’s some juicy stuff in there.” Luke chuckled.
“Don’t be crude.” Spencer scoffed but his cheeks started to redden, conveying the truth. 
“Oh man, I’m right aren’t I?” Luke’s laughter grew. 
It increased in volume enough to grant the attention from the others who had been silently working away at their desks. 
“What’s going on?” JJ perked up, her blonde head of hair appearing behind her computer monitor. 
“Reid’s got a sex diary.” Luke spoke over his shoulder to the whole bullpen.
“I most certainly do not.” His cheeks burned with his embarrassment and he shrunk a little in his chair. 
“Reid? Spencer Reid?” Tara stood from her desk, eyebrow cocked in her blatant confusion. “No way, I don’t believe that.”
“Good, because it's not true.” He held the journal closer to his chest. 
“He’s hiding something in there, there’s a reason he won’t let me read it.” Luke scoffed. 
“Did it occur to you that some people don’t enjoy sharing their entire life story?” Spencer grumbled.
By now JJ and Matt were on their feet too, and the three other agents closed in on his desk. He was thankful at least Emily, Rossi and Garcia were in their respective offices. He shrunk lower in his chair, wishing he were able to simply vanish into thin air. 
“Oh he’s definitely hiding something.” Tara folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow still raised in a combination of suspicion and delight.
“So what if I am? I’m entitled to my secrets.” Spencer complained. 
“The last time you kept a secret from us you ended up in prison.” JJ’s shoulders slumped, wincing a little at her own words. 
“This isn’t…it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “It’s just memories okay? Memories of a great summer I had before I joined the bureau and I’d like to keep them to myself.” 
“Oh it’s totally a sex diary.” Matt chuckled heartily. 
“For the love of…” Spencer trailed off, pushing himself to his feet and tucking the journal under his arm. “I really don’t want to talk about this. Can you please just respect my privacy for once? I know how hard that is for you guys.” 
“Ouch,” JJ pouted. “Sorry for caring.” 
“Jennifer, we both know this has nothing to do with you caring about me.” He clucked, pushing past the gaggle of his friends and marching out of the bullpen. 
He felt them watching him, muttering under their breaths as he walked away. He hurried down the corridor out of view until he pushed his way into the men’s bathroom. 
He slumped into a stall and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. Placing the old leather bound diary in his lap he ran his fingers over the cover. 
He didn’t know why he’d let himself get so worked up over a stupid journal. Except it wasn’t stupid, far from it. It was his collection of memories from a life he wished he could go back and relive. 
The twenty two year old who’d put pen to these pages was naive and innocent, his whole life ahead of him. The boy he’d been back then didn’t know of the horrors he was yet to face. It was a much simpler time and he wanted to be able to cling to that without his friends being involved. 
For fourteen years his team had been privy to every moment of his life, good and bad. Was it so wrong that Spencer wanted to just keep this one thing to himself? 
He huffed out a staggered breath, wishing not for the first time that just cared a little less. It made sense when he was younger, he’d been green when he joined the FBI and the team had treated him with kid gloves, probably rightfully so. But he was a grown man now, older and more worldly, he didn’t need them treating him like a child.
He cracked the spine of the journal, opening it up to the first page and continued caressing the worn page with his fingers. The diary began at the end, retrospectively writing of his adventures during the last week of that summer when he realised he didn’t want those memories to escape him. 
August 29th 2002
Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters.
Here in this diary he had meticulously journalled everything that transpired during his last few months in his hometown and how those moments had changed his life forever. He cautiously turned the page, careful not to tear the aged paper. 
He felt the heat rising, the sun high in the sky. He became aware of the somewhat blistering concrete beneath him, the occasional sound of passing cars. He could make out the scent of sunblock in the air, chlorine from nearby backyard swimming pools. 
Brushing his digits across the page he was transported away from Virginia, away from the bathroom on the sixth floor Quantico office. As he closed his eyes, the Las Vegas summer stretched out before him.
June 2nd 2002
The temperature edged over a hundred two days ago and the AC hasn’t worked in three years. Really need to sell the house, I must look into that when I get to DC. Mom hasn’t lived here since I sent her off to Bennington and this was the last summer I’d be needing it. 
It was cooler to sit outside, despite the humidity, it was preferable to the stuffy house with no AC. I planned to go to the library, basking in its glorious air conditioning unit but after stepping outside and immediately feeling the sweat gathering all over my skin, I decided against walking for five miles in this heat. 
And boy would I be glad for that decision. 
I’m not sure what it was that tore my attention away from the Great Gatsby that morning. I had this feeling, this inexplicable feeling running through my veins and forcing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention. 
And when I looked up, there she was. It was as though she was floating, drifting so effortlessly across the street I was sure her feet didn’t touch the ground. She regarded me curiously, most people did. She was unblinking, a slow and cautious smile building on her lips. 
I simply stared back in awe at this angelic creature heading my way, never letting her gaze falter from me. I was stunned into silence as she approached up the front path, head tilting to the side as she analysed me. 
She invited herself closer, up the three concrete stairs before dropping to the top step right next to me, opening her mouth and inquisitively speaking…
“What are you reading?” You smiled at him in what you hoped to be an amicable manner, but nonetheless his back straightened as if you posed a threat to him. 
“Uh…” he swallowed thickly, his Adams apple bobbing. “Me?” 
“Yes you.” You laughed. “Who else would I be talking to?” 
The peculiar man looked around like he expected someone else to be sitting on his stoop with the two of you. He scratched at the back of his neck nervously. 
“I don’t…I don’t know.” He rolled his chapped lip between his teeth. 
“I’m Y/N.” You shook your head, still laughing a little at his obvious awkwardness. 
“Sp-Spencer.” He stuttered. 
“Nice to meet you, Spencer.” You nodded curtly. “I’m house sitting for my aunt for the summer, what’s good to do around here?” 
Her smile could have lit up the whole night sky, her laugh the sweetest sound I’d ever been lucky enough to hear. She was summer, she would still be summer in the dead of winter. She was magnetic, effervescent. 
She was the first drop of rain after a long drought, she was those first few seconds in the morning when you wake up where you momentarily forget all of life's problems. She was…
“Reid, you in here? We got a case.” Luke’s voice broke him out of his revere, eyes flickering off of the page up to the closed stall door. 
“I’ll be right there.” He croaked, closing the diary again. 
He closed his eyes and inhaled until his lungs were full. He counted to five in his head and listened for the door to close before he slowly exhaled. He repeated the action three more times before he trusted himself to stand. 
He swore he could still smell your perfume as he forced his way out of the bathroom and back to reality. 
***
June 14th 2002
All the nights we stayed up talking, listening to 80's songs. It still brings a smile to my face. 
Her aunt's house, which I came to learn was just up the street and had a new, state of the art AC unit fitted. The next two weeks we spent nearly everyday there listening to her favourite songs on the old stereo, most of which I’d never heard before. 
The likes of Van Halen, The Cure, AC/DC and The Pixies played on repeat while she quizzed me on my life and I on hers. She was from San Francisco and her aunt was on vacation so she’d offered to house sit for the summer. She was a year younger than me at twenty one and fresh out of college with no idea where she was heading next.
I kind of envied her, she was a free spirit, she could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she wanted. And for whatever reason, she chose to spend her summer with me.
You hummed along to the music, Where is My Mind by the Pixies encompassing the room. You laid on your back on the couch, your feet in Spencer’s lap and the AC sending its cool waves towards you.
You cradled the blunt between your fingertips, every now and again raising it to your lips and sucking on it. The room was filling with smoke, the smell of it alone enough to make Spencer a little light headed. 
“You sure you don’t want any of this?” You spoke with a lungful smoke. 
“I’m good, really.” Spencer smiled his tight-lipped smile you’d grown accustomed to the last few weeks. 
“It would be out of your system before you start your big government job.” You giggled. 
“It’s not just that.” He shook his head. “Smoking marijuana at our age while our brains are still technically developing can affect IQ. A study showed that those who started smoking pot before twenty five lost six to eight IQ points by middle age.” 
You sat up on your elbows, your eyebrows deeply furrowed at him.
“You think it’s really going to affect your life so much if you lose a couple of IQ points, Doc?” Your lip quipped up into a smile. 
“I don’t want to risk it.” Spencer noted your slightly bloodshot eyes. 
You took another long drag, the sound of the paper crackling as it burnt filled his ears. You breathed it in before slowly exhaling the smoke out into the room. 
“Hmm,” you hummed in content, dropping the half smoked blunt into a little glass dish on the coffee table. “Now I feel light as a feather.” 
“You could get that feeling in many other ways. The main psychoactive ingredient, THC, is simply stimulating the part of the brain that responds to pleasure. It’s releasing dopamine which is what’s giving you that euphoric feeling.” He told you almost sternly.
You cocked an eyebrow at him, sitting up further so you could get a good look at him. 
“Pleasure, huh?” You clicked your tongue. 
“Yeah,” he swallowed. “It’s the same way you would respond to food or…”
“Or?” Your lip twitched.
“Other pleasurable activities.” He swallowed again, his cheeks turning slightly pink. 
You swung your legs off of his lap and shuffled closer to him on the couch. You saw him swallow yet again, noticed his chest heave with a deep breath. 
The closer you got to him the more you could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves and you dared move so you were straddling his lap. 
Your knees pressing either side of his thighs, you wrapped your arms around his neck and a hagged breath left between his pouty lips. His cheeks were a deep crimson colour now and from this position in his lap you knew exactly why. 
“Spence?” You whispered as he looked at you in embarrassment. 
It would be painfully obvious from where you were sitting that he was aroused and he felt so incredibly vulnerable in that moment. 
“Yes, Y/N?” He croaked. 
“What other pleasurable activities are you talking about?” 
“I think…I think you know.” 
“Hmm let’s pretend I don’t.” You smiled coyly. “After all, I’ve probably knocked off a few IQ points right? What other pleasurable activities?” 
You rolled your hips a little in his lap and Spencer mewled at the sensation. This was the closest he’d ever come to having someone other than himself touch him and he felt dizzy. He felt so dizzy that when he spoke, he wasn’t sure he’d even meant to let the word slip off his tongue. 
“S-sex.” He breathed, the smile on your face growing in approval. 
“Well now, that does sound more appealing than smoking.” You edged your face closer to him, rolling your hips into his lap once more. 
He smelt your perfume and the pot on your breath. He felt like his skin was on fire and he couldn’t form a coherent thought. 
A moment before you lips touched his, the sound of a phone ring cut through the room and you sprung apart suddenly. 
Spencer remained sitting on the couch while you ambled over to the landline. He watched you go, half wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. 
But the erection still visible through his slacks begged to differ. 
***
He returned the journal to his satchel as the jet came into land near Dallas. He knew word of his mysterious diary had reached Emily and Rossi and the whole team had been watching him read on the flight. 
He tried to cast his memories to the back of his mind and focus on the case, people were being murdered and that had to take precedence over his nostalgic thoughts. 
Emily sent him and Rossi to the morgue and Spencer tried to pretend he was focused on a case file while Rossi drove them. He could see the older man looking at him in his peripheral vision. 
Thankfully Rossi did not ask him about the journal even though Spencer knew he wanted to. 
It was in the back of his mind all day and after he retired to his hotel room and showered, he found himself thumbing through to the next page. 
July 1st 2002
Breaking into hotel swimming pools, and wreaking havoc on our world. Does it make me completely dumb that I would follow her to the ends of the earth? 
I knew it was a bad idea, but I just can’t say no to her. She said she had something fun planned and so like an idiot I came along. 
I didn’t say anything when we jumped the fence. It was around eleven pm and all the lights around the pool were out, the stars and the moon reflecting on the still water. 
I still didn’t say anything when she started stripping down to her underwear, mostly because it rendered me speechless. The sight of her in nothing but that skimpy black lace lingerie caused me to forget my own name and I’m sure I just stared at her slack jaw. 
It’s been a few weeks since I think she tried to kiss me and she hasn’t said anything about it. I’m starting to think I misread the situation entirely. 
At least I was, until she stripped off her clothes by the side of the pool and curled her finger at me, beckoning me closer.
“You fancy a dip, Spencer?” Your voice was breathy and he followed your motion to come closer. 
“Uh, won’t we get in trouble?” He padded forward all the same. 
“Only if we get caught.” You giggled, reaching for him as soon as he was close enough. 
You gripped him by the lapels of his shirt to tug him forward before your fingers glided towards the top button. He stared at you without a word while you effortlessly popped the buttons one by one. 
Once you’d gotten the last button undone your hands moved to his shoulders and you helped push the fabric down his arms until it dropped to the floor. 
He was painfully skinny but it didn’t stop him from subconsciously sucking in his small stomach. Your eyes grazed up and down his torso, taking in every inch of skin.
He felt hot beneath your gaze despite the fact the temperature plummeted at night. He felt self conscious, not worthy of your eyes on him. But when you met his gaze again you were smiling. 
When your hands landed on the button of his slacks his breath hitched and his legs wobbled slightly. You giggled again, a sound that had become Spencer’s favourite melody over the past month. 
You made quick work of the button and zipper before hooking your fingers in the side of his pants and shimming them down his legs. 
Spencer stayed still and silent while you undressed him until his pants pooled at his feet and he kicked off his converse so he could remove them completely. 
His hands darted in front of him, trying to hide the exceedingly noticeable tenting in his tight boxers. He could tell you knew what he was trying to hide by the playful smile now on your lips. 
It was an all too regular occurrence around you. You only had to glance at him a certain way and he would be standing at full attention. It wasn’t his fault, you were unfairly beautiful. 
Suddenly you turned your back on him, floating as you so often did towards the pool. Before Spencer’s brain could catch up you were diving into the still water, causing ripples to roll out across the pool. 
A few droplets splashed up onto his face and chest. While you were submerged he moved closer to the edge and slipped into the cool water before you could have a chance to scrutinise his body again. 
When you emerged you wiped your hair off your face and found Spencer in the pool, leaning back against the wall. The water wasn’t too deep but he crouched down so it was covering him up to his chest. 
You waded towards him, eyes sparkling from the moonlight. He pushed himself back against the side of the pool, his nerves written all over his face. 
“Everything okay, Doc?” You asked as you neared him. 
“Fine, just fine.” He nodded stiffly. 
“You sure about that?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, moving dangerously closer. 
“Hmm mmm.” He tried to insist but you weren’t buying it. 
Your eyes were dark by the time you were right in front of him, almost black. The smile on your face was sinful and it made Spencer’s knees weak. 
No one had ever looked at him the way you were looking at him at that moment. He may be naive but he knew exactly what that look meant. And as if to prove that point, your right hand disappeared under the water and seconds later it was palming him through his underwear.
A pathetic whimper left his lips at the contact even though there was a layer of wet fabric between him and your hand. 
Your smile grew at his reaction, your other hand now moving to grip his shoulder. Spencer’s arms remained at his sides, his breathing already heightened. 
“Spencer?” You whispered. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?”
He rolled his lip between his teeth and shook his head dispondantly.
“No,” he confessed. “I, uh, I’ve never even…kissed anyone before.” 
He felt the heat spreading to his cheeks and he was painfully aware of your hand still palming him. Your smile turned a little sad, pitying almost. 
“You want to change that?” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper. 
“Y-yes.” He nodded. “Yes p-please.” 
“So polite,” you stepped even closer. “Such a good boy.” 
When your lips finally touched his, he whined against them, feeling an explosion of emotions in one simple action. Your tongue easily made its way into his mouth and your hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his head. 
You kissed him fiercely, exploring his mouth with hunger. Spencer didn’t do much of anything, simply stood limply while you kissed the air from his lungs. 
He continued to whine against your lips when your hand started moving around his shaft. His hips started to rock against you of their own accord and he so desperately wished there wasn’t a piece of fabric in his way. 
As though you could read his mind your hand shifted and your fingers trailed across his stomach just about the waistband of his boxers. He moaned deeply and you pulled back from the kiss, a questioning expression on your features.
“Can I?” You panted as you spoke, nodding your head downwards. 
All Spencer could do was nod dumbly in response. 
You smiled before leaning in to kiss him again, somehow more ferociously than before. When your hand slid inside the sodden material of his boxers and wrapped around his length an animalistic moan erupted from his lips, swallowed down in your own mouth. 
Your small hand couldn’t quite reach all the way around his thick shaft as you started moving up and down on it. His hips started bucking harder than before, telling you he enjoyed it. 
His brain was mush, he couldn’t form a single coherent thought except how phenomenal your hand felt. His lack of awareness allowed him a little more confidence and he finally moved his arms, his hands finding your face and holding you while he kissed you. 
You smiled against his lips, the water started to lap around your bodies with your movements. You kept up a steady pace as you stroked him while removing one of his hands from your face. 
He let you guide his hand over the planes of your body until it was situated between your legs. He inhaled sharply, having to tear his lips away from yours. 
You were both panting as you looked at each other, his breathing staggered due to the way you were touching him. His hand was still between your legs, ghosting outside of your panties.
“You…you’re sure?” He breathed erratically. 
“Very.” You nodded, increasing your speed and eliciting another feral moan from Spencer. 
“I…I’ve never done this before.” 
“You strike me as a quick learner.” You smirked. 
“F-fuck…” he mumbled. “I…I am.” 
“Make me feel good, Spence. Be a good boy for me.” 
Your words of praise made him hiss, bucking hard into your hand. It was enough encouragement for him to inch your panties aside before his fingers slid beneath the fabric. 
You were surprised to say the least when one of his digits quickly found your clit and started rubbing it deftly, as though he’d done this hundreds of times before. 
Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open, your grip on him faltering for a second at the sensation. 
“Fuck…” you whined, trying to focus on your strokes. “You…you sure you’ve never done that before?” 
“P-positive.” He nodded, his knees buckling as he felt precome leaking from his head. “S’good?” 
“So good, baby. So good.” You crashed your lips together again as he increased his speed, rubbing your sensitive bud like he’d been doing it his whole life. 
You squeezed the base of his shaft before matching his speed with your strokes. You were moaning into each other's waiting mouths, water frantically lapping around your bodies. 
You whined when his finger disappeared from your clit but soon two of his digits were swiping through your folds. When you felt them pressed against your entrance, begging for access, you nibbled on his bottom lip and squeezed his cock again telling him to continue. 
You moaned in unison as his two long, slender fingers entered you. Spencer felt as though he might pass out at the sensation as his fingers pushed all the way inside of you. 
He felt your shift and move around him, your walls fluttering against his digits. That combined with the way you were frenziedly pumping him caused his stomach to tighten with the telltale signs of his impending orgasm. 
“Oh my gosh you feel so incredible.” He whined, plunging his fingers deeper inside you. 
You felt him twitching in your hand, still lazily rocking into your touch. 
“Are you close, baby?” Your thighs squeezed around his hand. 
“Y-yes.” He admitted, fingers coniniting to move in and out of you, desperate to give you as much pleasure as you were bestowing upon him. 
“Come for me, Spence. Come for me.” 
He whimpered again, the pressure building in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t hold back any longer even if he wanted to. 
With a staggered moan his hips jut forward as he came in the pool, while you stroked him through his first orgasm not at his own hand. 
***
In a hotel room just outside of Dallas, Spencer narrowly managed to move the journal out of the way just in time for him to spill his load over his own hand. 
He fell back against the lumpy pillows, breathing heavily and his hand still slowly moving up and down his spent shaft. 
He glanced at the diary through hazy eyes and shook his head, removing his hand from his cock and wiping his seed on the bed sheet.
He swore he could feel your hand there even after all these years, feel the water splashing around his naked torso. 
He could feel you around his fingers, the way you clenched tighter as you came not so long after he did. 
He could still feel the weight of your body as you fell against him in the pool, head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you panted heavily into his wet skin. 
Things had been so much simpler then, he sometimes yearned for those days. A part of him wished he hadn’t found the journal in the first place then maybe he wouldn’t have found himself sucked down this particular rabbit hole. 
Despite the memories swarming his brain he fell asleep without even cleaning himself off, one hand on his rapidly beating heart and the other clutching the battered diary. 
***
July 4th 2002
Lighting fireworks in parking lots, illuminates the blackest nights. Cherry cokes under this moonlit summer sky. 
I suggested going to an organised event for the Fourth of July celebrations but she insisted that we have our own. 
She brought a ton of fireworks, it was a wonder she didn’t blow a hand off that night, fumbling to light them whilst dragging on a blunt.
But I simply watched her from the back of her aunt’s old VW Camper, sipping on my coke in absolute awe of her every move. 
Since our pool escapades the other day, every time I look at her I get chills. Every time I catch sight of her I think of the way she felt as she touched me, as I touched her…
She hasn’t even so much as kissed me since and I’m partially wondering if it was all a vivid dream. At least I was until tonight. 
You sauntered back over towards the open back doors of your camper where Spencer sat cross legged on a blanket. 
Seconds later an array of fireworks erupted in the sky over the abandoned parking lot, the sounds and the colours a feast for the senses. 
But you weren’t watching them. You were watching him. 
You crawled into the back of the van, right into his lap, straddling him as you took a long pull on the joint. You inhaled the smoke and tossed the butt over your shoulder before placing your hands on his shoulders. 
When you kissed him the smoke filtered out of your mouth and into his but he didn’t care. His arms wrapped around your waist while your tongues explored each other's mouths. 
You guided him backwards so he was laying down, his cock already fully erect and pressing against you. You laid on top of him and continued to kiss him fiercely. 
His hands found purchase on your back, gently holding you close. You were grinding against him causing him to moan into your mouth and squirm beneath you. 
He knew where this would inevitably lead if he let it. He wanted to, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of being a virgin forever and you were the first woman to ever show him this kind of attention.
But he didn’t want to just be another guy to you. He didn’t want to just be a quick lay you’d forget all about. And inevitably that’s what would happen.
It wasn’t something the two of you talked about often but at the end of summer you were going back to San Francisco and he was going to DC. If he slept with you that’s all it would ever be. And he didn’t want that. 
You continued to kiss him and grind against him but his intrusive thoughts got the better of him and all the blood that had previously been flowing south rerouted itself. He didn’t even realise until you sat back and looked at him curiously.
“Is everything okay?” You breathed heavily, lips slightly swollen from the kiss.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He frowned up at you. 
“Uh…” Your eyes flicked down towards his crotch at the same time he realised he was completely flaccid. 
His cheeks burnt and he cursed his overactive brain. 
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, trying to sit back up. 
You slid off of his lap and sat next to him while he drew his legs close to his body. 
“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I’m sorry if I come on a little strong.” You shrugged meekly. 
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just…I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m never going to see again once summer is over.” He cringed at his own words, at how needy and sad he sounded. 
Your expression turned pitying and it made him feel even more stupid. 
“I get it.” You smiled softly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
“It’s kinda hard not to be.” He buried his head into his knees and hugged his arms around his shins. “I’m sure most guys, normal guys, would jump at the chance to be with a woman as beautiful as you. No one’s ever looked at me the way you do, I was always so much younger than my peers so it made sense. I wasn’t waiting or anything, not deliberately. But now the opportunity has presented itself, I don’t think I’m the casual sex kind of guy. God that sounds so lame.” 
You were smiling to yourself at how adorable he was. With his face against his knees his words were muffled but you caught the gist of them. 
You shuffled closer to him and placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his face back up so he would look at you. 
“I think that’s kinda noble.” You whispered.
“I think the word you’re looking for is sad.” He huffed. 
“No, it’s not.” You let go of his face. “I understand, Spencer. I wish I’d waited, I wish I’d waited for someone like you.” 
He let you wrap your arms around him and he leant against your chest while you held him. Off in the distance fireworks continued to illuminate the sky, the far off sound of their explosions a strange comfort. 
***
Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms somewhat aggressively after almost an hour of staring at the map of their unsubs hunting ground. 
Despite falling asleep quickly last night his peace had been short lived and he’d woken less than two hours later and couldn’t get back to sleep. 
He didn’t know why he was letting the diary affect him in such a way, shouldn’t it have the opposite result? Those entries were from the best days of his life, but maybe it served as a reminder that he could never go back to that time.
He wasn’t that naive kid anymore, he’d suffered one too many traumas in his life to ever be that kid again. Back then his most difficult decision was whether or not to have sex with a beautiful woman. He longed to have such trivial problems. 
He’d felt so stupid after the night of the fourth of July he had avoided you for two weeks after. He’d wasted what precious time the two of you had together feeling idiotic over his decision to turn you down and hidden out in the public library just to circumvent any further interaction with you. 
He turned to face the room, realising he was alone in the small meeting room. Last he checked JJ and Luke were at the table going over files, when had they left? 
He frowned to himself, reaching for his satchel and pulling the journal out, flipping to the next page. 
July 19th 2002
Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up, these are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is just following your heart, and eventually you'll finally get it right.
He closed his eyes with a shake of his head. Wasn’t that the painful truth? He’d written that particular entry with a smile on his face like the cat that got the cream. That date had been the best of his whole whirlwind summer. 
After stewing in his stupidity for two weeks he had shown up at your aunt's house unexpected and uninvited. You’d barely let him inside before he’d kissed you. And it wasn’t long at all before he was leading you back to the couch. 
“Spence, what’s going on?” You panted, looking up at him from where you laid on the couch. 
“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” He was fumbling a little with the buttons of his shirt, hands noticeably shaking. 
“But I thought…you said you didn’t want this? And then you don’t talk to me for weeks and now you-”
“I was overthinking, I do that a lot. But I don’t want to overthink this.” He finished unbuttoning the shirt and dropped it to the floor before climbing on top of you and kissing you again.
“You’re sure?” You mumbled against his lips.
“Extremely.” He replied.
He snapped the journal closed before he could get carried away. He didn’t exactly go into graphic detail of what transpired on your aunt’s couch that day but it was certainly not safe for work material. 
He didn’t need to read the words anyway, he’d memorised everything about that day. He learnt by heart the way your skin felt against his, the way the two of you melted together as though your bodies somehow became one. He’d retained every little detail of how you felt, every tiny movement of your body as he’d made love to you. 
He couldn’t forget even if he wanted to. 
Just as he was slotting the diary back into his satchel, trying not to get caught up in the blissful memory, the door opened and JJ strolled in carrying two take out coffee cups. She smiled at him, handing him one of the drinks. He smiled at her in thanks.
Her eyes flitted to his open bag and the diary nestled inside. When she looked back at him she had an amused expression on her face.
“So, sex diary, huh?” She chuckled lightly.
“It is nothing of the sort.” He rolled his eyes.
“Alvez is convinced otherwise.” 
“Well Alvez doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Summer of oh-two right?” She narrowed her eyes on him, the way she did when she was trying to profile him.
“Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee. 
“Wasn’t that-”
“Yes.” He cut her off. 
The summer I met the love of my life. 
He’d told JJ snippets from that summer, she was the only one who he’d ever told. She knew as much as he’d met a wonderful woman who he’d lost his virginity to and over the course of a summer had fallen in love with her. As far as he knew she’d never told anyone. 
“So why has it gotten you so tetchy? I would have thought you’d like to relive those days?” She slid into one of the chairs sipping her own coffee but her scrutinising gaze stayed on him.
He let out a haggard sigh, taking a seat next to her and using his free hand to swipe his hair back off of his face.
“Do you ever feel like the best days of your life have passed you by?” He found himself asking. 
JJ’s expression softened, a melancholy smile adorned on her lips. She sat forward slightly in the chair.
“Is that really what you think?” She placed a gentle hand on his knee and she felt him tense up at her touch.
“Maybe, I don’t know.” He wiggled his nose, a gesture he did when he was uncomfortable. “I guess I just miss being that carefree.”
“Spencer Reid, carefree? Can’t picture it.” JJ laughed around her cup.
“Fine, maybe not carefree.” He chuckled too. “But not…this. I’m worried I’m never going to bounce back from prison. I went to therapy, I took the medication, I should be over it by now.”
“Spence, you have PTSS, that doesn’t just go away. You know as well as I do, probably better, that the symptoms can be managed, that it can remain dormant for months, even years. But the trauma you suffered is what evoked your PTSS and that doesn’t leave you. You’ll probably always be dealing with it in one way or another.” JJ squeezed his knee before Spencer moved out of her touch. 
He knew what she was saying was right and that’s what made it harder to hear. PTSS was something he would always live with, something that could always be triggered in the future. He’d created coping mechanisms, dealt with his trauma but it didn’t make it go away, it would never just vanish into thin air. He could never undo the damage that had already been done. 
“I thought reading that journal would help me feel like my old self but it’s having the opposite effect. Because I’m never going to be that kid again.” He shook his head sadly. 
“And why would you want to be?” JJ scoffed.
“Excuse me?” He frowned at her.
“Spence, I knew you at twenty two. You were painfully shy and awkward. It took you years to be able to look me in the eye. You’ve changed so much in the years I’ve known you and that’s not a bad thing. You’re better at your job, you’re a better man now than you were at twenty two, you have to see that?” She hoped her words were getting through, hoped he would listen to her before he fell into a self pity spiral he may never get out of. 
He exhaled shakily, taking another sip of coffee while he tried to come up with a response. But he didn’t have to, as soon the door was opening again and Luke entered the room. And Spencer quickly jumped up and returned to his map, effectively shutting down any further conversation on the subject. 
***
August 6th 2002
Hanging out at truck stops, just to pass the time. Watching the slew of cars fly by on the freeway, eating bags of chips while she tossed stones out into the rolling desert beyond us. 
“Remind me again why we’re here?” He asked you as you flung another stone off into the distance. 
You turned to face him, both sitting in the gravel, leaning up against the side of the truck stop building. 
“Why not?” You quipped. 
“There are countless other more interesting things in Las Vegas than sitting at a truck stop. You’re only here a few more weeks and I thought you wanted to see the city?” 
“I have seen the city.” 
“You’ve seen abandoned parking lots, old motel swimming pools and the inside of your aunt’s house.” He shook his head. 
“Hmm,” you mused. “I have been very acquainted with her ceiling these past few weeks.” You winked at him and his cheeks immediately burned at the insinuation. 
It wasn’t a lie. The last couple of weeks the two of you had barely left your aunt’s house in lieu of making the most of each other's company whilst wearing as few clothes as possible. 
Spencer wasn’t strictly complaining about that, sex with you was one of the wonders of the world and he’d happily do it for the rest of his life. But he was painfully aware of what little time you had left together. 
“It’s a pretty good ceiling.” He swallowed thickly, having had his own share of experiences in which he was staring at that ceiling too. 
You giggled and it was literally music to his ears. You tossed another stone before suddenly getting to your feet. 
Spencer followed suit, brushing the dirt off the back of his slacks. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes as you took hold of his hand and started leading him around the side of the building. 
“Where are we going?” He asked, not that it really mattered. He’d long ago realised he would follow you anywhere. 
“You’ll see.” You giggled again, giving his hand a squeeze. 
He followed you inside a grimy and slightly dilapidated bathroom, eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion. 
When you let go of his hand and locked the door, his stomach coiled into knots and his cock immediately started to come to life. 
“Y/N?” He breathed. “What are we���why are we…?” 
You laughed and took him by the hand again, leading him into a stall. The door was coming off of its hinges and the tiled floor was dirty and cracked. You didn’t seem to notice. 
You pushed him up against one of the walls in the stall and started kissing him with ferocity. He kissed you back, trying to ignore the stench of a bathroom that was long overdue for a good clean. 
He didn’t really have much time to dwell on such trivial things however as soon as you were dropping to your knees on the filthy floor and looking up at him through your lashes. 
The simple action had him standing at full attention, his stomach tightly coiled. He’d dreamed of what it would be like to have you go down on him but never imagined it would happen. 
He was too polite to ask and too innocent to assume. But it hadn’t stopped him from imagining it countless times. 
You smiled at him, toying with the button of his slacks and chewing seductively on your lip. 
“Is this what you want, Doc?” You breathed. 
“You have no idea.” He nodded somewhat frantically. 
“Be a good boy and say it for me. I can’t read your mind.” You teased. 
The idea of dirty talking in any way would have normally freaked him out but it had become clear to both of you early on that when you called him a good boy he’d do just about anything. 
“P-please,” he whined, bucking his hips. “Please s-suck my cock.” 
You hissed at his words, teeth sinking deeply into your own lip. 
“Oh you’re so good, Spencer. Such a good boy for me.” You popped the button as a reward. 
“Your good boy.” He agreed with a whimper. 
“My best boy.” You smirked, tugging his pants and boxers down to his knees in one swift move. 
He gasped as the stale air hit his erect cock and pushed himself back against the stall wall. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip as your index finger ghosted up and down the throbbing vein that ran the length of his shaft. 
His knees were already quaking, desperate to feel your lips wrapped around him. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer as soon you bowed your head, parted your lips and took his head into your mouth. 
His eyes rolled back in his head in an instant and the sounds coming from his lips could only be described as feral as you slowly took him all the way in your mouth. 
He yelped when he hit the back of your throat, partly through pleasure and partly through fear he might hurt you. He knew he wasn’t exactly small, not quite so naive as to be blind to the fact he was sporting an above average sized package. 
But to your credit you didn’t even so much as gag and when you looked up at him through your lashes again, nose buried in his pubic hair, he swore you were smiling. 
***
At the back of the jet Spencer tried to rearrange his satchel in his lap to disguise his growing erection from anyone who might pass him by. The mere thought of that day you’d given him his very first blow job was enough to make him strain at the front of his slacks. 
The case in Dallas was wrapped up in just two days despite Spencer’s lack of concentration and he was so pleased to be heading home. 
He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the headrest and trying not to think about that day but failed miserably. 
Getting to come while he had sex with you was incredible, of course, but being inhibited by condoms always left him feeling a little incomplete. But the feeling of coming down your throat, having every last drop of his arousal swallowed down while you smiled at him was out of this world. 
He whimpered a little under his breath, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. He grit his teeth together hard and opened his eyes in an attempt to focus on something else. 
August 29th 2002
Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters…
“What are you doing?” You sing-songed, dropping yourself next to him on the couch. 
“Just writing.” He hurried to close the journal before you caught sight of anything.
“Writing what?” Your eyes were sparkling playfully at him. 
“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” He shrugged, hugging the book to his chest. 
“You have an eidetic memory, dork.” 
Three days later, on September first, you’d been leaving Vegas, waving to him from the rear window of the bus taking you to the airport. 
***
September 1st 2002
I don’t know why but some reason I genuinely thought this summer might never end. Time is just a construct right? Maybe this summer could last forever. 
More logically, or maybe less depending on how you look at it, I think I actually thought she’d stay, come with me to DC. I asked her to, although I don’t think she realised I was being serious. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Just writing.” 
“Writing what?” 
“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” 
“You have an eidetic memory, dork.” 
“I know, I’m just scared for this to end. I…Y/N I have fallen in love with you. Don’t go back to California, come to DC with me instead.”
She’d simply laughed as though I’d told the world's funniest joke, patted me on the shoulder and said, “oh wouldn’t that just be the dream, Doc?” 
That was three days ago and she hasn’t brought it up since and neither have I. And today I helped her with her bags to the bus station so she could leave me forever. 
Get on the bus, it's time to go. 
“I am gonna miss you, you know, Doc?” You toyed with his lapel, the sweetest of smiles on your face. “I had a way better summer than I planned for.”
“M-me too.” He croaked, stupidly feeling hot tears brewing behind his eyes. 
“Don’t be sad, you’re leaving for Quantico next week. Your dream job, remember? You're going to be saving lives and kicking ass. You’ll forget all about me.” You smiled. 
“Doubtful.” He huffed. 
The engine of the bus roared to life behind the two of you and your smile turned a little sad. You breathed out before leaning in close and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 
“You have to forget me, Doc. Summers over.” You whispered against his lips and before he could reply you were turning away and sauntering to the doors of the bus. 
His heart constricted in his chest, tears encompassing his vision. Nothing about this was fair even though he’d know all along you’d be leaving. It didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow. 
He rubbed his eyes heavily before your face appeared at the back window. You were still smiling but if he didn’t know any better he swore your own eyes were filled with tears. 
The sound of the doors closing caused his chest to tighten further. This was it. It was over. You were leaving. 
As the bus rumbled into gear and started forward, you waved to him and his tears broke free. He raised his hand and waved back while they rolled down his cheeks. 
He stood on the sidewalk waving as the bus started its journey, watching as the only woman he would ever love was cruelly taken away from him. 
***
He rolled his neck as he ascended the stairs to his apartment after a long metro ride home from Quantico. He freed his keys from his satchel, fingertips brushing over the worn leather cover of the journal as he did so. 
He’d never be that innocent twenty two year old again. But was that really such a bad thing? Maybe JJ was right, he was better at his job, he was a better man now than he had been back then. Getting caught up in this wave of nostalgia was foolish.
Ultimately Spencer knew he wouldn’t go back to that age for all the money in the world. That summer might have been the best of his life, but it wasn’t as though his life had been terrible after that. Things sometimes had a way of working themselves out, the universe had its own plan for everyone. 
And despite the trauma thrown his way, the universe hadn’t been entirely merciless towards him. 
He found himself smiling for the first time in days as he slotted the key in his apartment door. He’d been thrown a lot of curveballs in his life, dealt a hand that no one person should have to tackle alone. 
But then he never really had been alone, had he? 
He turned the key and pushed open the door, the light from the lamp next to the couch illuminating the room in the homely glow he loved so much. 
The smell of freshly brewed coffee met his nose, wrapping him in its warmth. He smiled brighter, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his satchel. He pulled out the journal and cradled it under his arm. Then he turned towards the couch and the body sat upon it, his smile grew tenfold. 
“Welcome home, Doc.” 
Get on the bus, it's time to go. 
He continued to wave dumbly as the bus got further away, tears streaking down his cheeks and he feared they may never end. 
He even kept waving when the bus came to an abrupt stop, even carrying on when the doors swung open and you appeared on the sidewalk. 
He finally lowered his hand when you started running towards him, tears rolling from your eyes and a frantic expression on your features. 
“You meant it didn’t you? When you asked me to come to DC with you, you meant it. You meant it and I knew you did but I laughed because I was scared.” You spat out, speaking so fast all your words rolled into one. 
“I did mean it.” He croaked, scared to reach for you in case you vanished in a puff of smoke. “And I also meant it when I told you I love you.” 
“I, uh…” your voice cracked and you scuffed your toe on the concrete. “Would it be utterly crazy if I did come with you to DC?”
“Probably.” He nodded. “Realistically we barely know each other. We might come to find when we learn more about one another that we don’t actually like what we find. Take me, I’m neurotic, I’m a neat freak, a germaphobe. I own too many books, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked, I’m-”
“Spencer?” You chuckled through your tears, cutting him off of his rant.
“I ramble when I’m nervous.” He sighed. “But I do know that I love you. And I’m almost positive that I will love every little thing about you, most likely for the rest of my life. So it is probably crazy of you to come to DC with me, but I hope you do it anyway.”
“Spence?” You smiled, wiping at your tears. “I love you too, and I’m positive I will love every little thing about you too. For the rest of my life.” 
Spencer let out a shaky breath of relief and wiped his own tears moments before you fell into his arms and kissed him more fiercely than you ever had before. And you both knew no matter how crazy it was, it also made absolutely perfect sense. 
“Good to be home, angel.” He kissed you, wrapping his free arm around your waist to hold you close. 
He always did that, despite how many years it had been. Regardless of the fact you’d now been together since you were twenty one years old and he was twenty two, in spite of the fact you’d married him, he always felt the need to keep you as close as humanly possible as though afraid he may lose you like he almost had all those years ago.
“Missed you.” You mumbled against his lips. 
“Missed you more.” He replied.
When he broke away from you, your eyes landed on the diary and you laughed, tugging it free of his grip. 
“JJ called me this morning and said you’d been pining over this thing.” You ran your fingers over the worn cover. 
“Best summer of my life.” He smiled as the two of you sank to the couch. 
Spencer wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you nuzzled against him, still toying with the old diary. 
“Mine too. But we can’t live in the past forever. And I don’t know about you but I’m pretty happy right here in the present. And I’m certain our future is going to look pretty damn good.” You took his hand in your free one and brought it to your lips so you could place delicate kisses on his knuckles. 
He’d been so sure as he watched that bus pull away that he would never see you again, that he had lost a piece of his heart forever. The summer of ‘02 he had met the love of his life and he had counted his lucky stars every day that he was also the love of yours. 
You’d stayed by his side through every hurdle. You’d helped him get clean after his addiction which could have torn the two of you apart, held his hand through every single NA meeting and soothed him through withdrawals.
You’d gone to every doctor's appointment with him while he was suffering from debilitating headaches, dried his tears when he thought Emily had died and held his hand at the funeral. You’d felt his anger towards JJ and Hotch when Emily came back from the dead. 
You’d done the same when Gideon died, when Morgan left the team and then Hotch. You’d visited him every day in prison and told him on every visit that no matter how long it took you would be waiting for him when he got out. 
“Until death do us part, Doc. I didn’t take our vows lightly.” 
He held you closer, trying to communicate to you just how much your love and support had meant to him over the years. 
“Have I ever thanked you for getting off that bus?” He sighed in content. 
“Only every single day since.” You giggled, still after all these years his absolute favourite sound in the world. 
He laughed with you, holding you impossibly closer and breathing in the scent of your perfume he still loved so much. 
One summer had turned his whole life upside down. One glorious summer changed everything. That summer and the memories the two of you had created would forever live on, even without that old journal. But you were right, he couldn’t live in the past forever, nor would he want to. His present was as close to perfect as it could possibly be. 
And even in the coldest depths of winter, you would always be the summer of Spencer Reid’s heart. 
Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had.
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strawbeerossi · 6 months
Text
On My Knees
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer has to prove that he wants release
Content/Warnings: Jumps right into smut, edging, begging, subby!Spencer
Word Count: 0.3K
Kinktober Day Twenty Six: Begging
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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“I bet you don’t wanna cum, Spencer. You are sure acting like you don’t.��� You frowned as you were planted on top of him, hips on either side of his hips on the mattress. You’d been edging him for an hour, the man filled with tears from the overwhelming sense of yearning.
His cock was painfully hard, the feeling of your warm walls not making it any easier on him as he was trying to thrust upwards and relieve some of the pain of his arousal. You knew that he was growing more desperate by the second, his whines and whimpers falling from his lips as his glossed over eyes were focused on your face. You could almost feel bad for him.
“I wanna cum!” His voice was hoarse as his eyes were focused on your face, hoping to see a change of heart. However you weren’t going to let him get away with it that easily. “No, I don’t think so. You’re not convincing me enough. Come on,” You frowned as you let an eyebrow raise. “Prove it. Beg me.” You stated, hips now beginning to roll to bring him back to life again. “Ugh- Please! I want to cum so bad. Just want to fill you up,” He rambled.
Spencer wasn’t good at the whole dirty talk business and you knew that. It was honestly such a turn on to see him so desperate to the point he was going against everything he knew.
Plus, you liked seeing him shaking and trying to come up with a way to get the release that he was so desperately crazy for.
“Are you sure?” You asked, a little laugh leaving your lips as Spencer was huffing out of frustration. “Yes! Yes, I’m so sure! I wanna cum so bad!” He groaned while he was starting to get frustrated. “Hey. You better watch yourself or I’ll leave you here.” You frowned as you looked down at him.
“P-please don’t. I’m sorry. I just.. It hurts. Please let me cum? Please?! That's all I want.” His eyes were tearing up from the overstimulation of being so close then yet having the opportunity ripped from him again. That was what made you coo and bring your hands to rest against his chest.
“Fine. I guess I’ll allow it.”
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 6 months
Text
You Never Know
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: none
Genre: very fluffy
Summary: Spencer wants to ask you on a date
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***
You check your watch as you walk over to your desk. You thought you were gonna be late but it looks like you made it in earlier than you expected. You've barely settled into your chair when Derek pops his head around his computer monitor.
"Did you go?" He asks. You roll your eyes and reach into your bag for the paper bag half rolled up inside. You drop the paper bag on his desk across from yours.
"Yessss! You're the best mamas." Derek says pulling open the bag.
"What's that?" Spencer asks leaning over from his desk, trying to peak into Derek's mysterious sack.
"Dude there's this bakery in y/n's neighborhood that has the best pastries of all time but you have to go first thing in the morning or like as close to it as you can because first of all once they're out of something they're just out of it for the day and secondly these things are better the closer to fresh out the oven that you can get." Derek explains.
"So you send y/n to buy your pastries before work?" Spencer frowns.
"Well-"
"He doesn't send me anywhere. Sometimes I'm just nice enough to pick things up if I have time." You say.
"Correct." Derek points at you.
"Interesting." Spencer nods.
"What's your stance on donuts Spence? Do you even eat them?" You ask.
"I love donuts actually." He tells you.
"Yeah I guess that makes sense, you have quite the sweet tooth." You hum.
"I didn't realize that was obvious."
"Well, it is to me. I can't say if anyone else here would say the same but I noticed." You say.
"Oh." You barely catch his eyebrows scrunch together before he hides behind his monitor to avoid you noticing the heat he can feel rushing to his cheeks. He's probably reading into it too much that you noticed something like that. You take a sip from your coffee and turn your attention to your own computer. It's a paperwork day today it seems, as you all spend the day at your desks. On one hand, you honestly hate having to spend all day working on reports but on the other hand, no news is good news- theoretically not having a case should mean there are no new serial killers but you all know crime doesn't sleep- so there's a quiet understanding that you're just waiting for the next storm.
Still, it's been a busy few weeks so it's nice to not be jetting off to another state where you'd be arguing with local law enforcement while trying to solve a crime before it snowballs. By the time you're leaving work, you're almost caught up on the pile you'd been too busy to get to and that's sort of nice to know as you pull out of the parking lot.
~
You normally don't stop at your local bakery two days in a row but you figure you should buy something for Spencer after the conversation you had yesterday. So, you get up early enough to run by the bakery before heading in today.
"Y/n! Good morning! Same thing as always?" The bakery owner, Salma smiles at you when you walk in.
"Actually not today Salma, I'm buying for someone else this time." You smile. You maybe should've asked what donuts Spencer likes, but you like to think you know enough about his tastes to guess.
"Someone else? Not your work friend?"
"Not the one you know. A different work friend this time." You explain.
"Do you like this work friend too?"
"Salma I don't like Derek." You scoff. "Not the way you're implying anyway. He's just a friend."
"And this new work friend?"
"I don't know Salma I'm just picking up donuts." You say with a smile that you hope doesn't give you away. The look Salma gives you is enough to let you know she sees right through you.
"Alright, what can I get you this time then dear?"
"I'll take those two. I think he'll like those." You say pointing to the donuts you want through the display case.
"This one is a new recipe you know."
"Is it? I'll take one for myself as well then, and next time I'm in I'll let you know what I think." You smile.
"You have to come in soon then, you know how I value your opinion on new releases!" She says as she bags the pastries for you. 
"Of course Salma. I'll be back within a couple of days most likely, my work friend will get quite huffy if I'm not." You say handing her a ten and taking the donuts from her.
"And you are sure you don't want to take him anything since you are here?"
"Ah he got his sweets yesterday. He can wait until my next visit. Have a good day Salma." You say leaving the bakery. When you get to work Spencer, Derek, and JJ are already at their desks. You can see Hotch in his office as well as you drop your things at your desk.
"Is that what I think it is? Two days in a row y/n you spoil me." Derek spots the distinctly colored bag from the little bakery before you've even said good morning.
"First of all, good morning. Secondly, these are not for you Morgan."
"Not for me?!" He gasps and you roll your eyes.
"Spence, I brought you breakfast." You say dropping the bag on his desk.
"Really? What'd you bring me?" Spencer blinks.
"Donuts from the bakery near my place."
"Oh, the one Morgan really likes?"
"Yeah! Since we were talking about it yesterday I thought I'd pick something up for you." You say.
"And she's left me to starve in the process." Derek proclaims dramatically.
"Oh cut the theatrics. You got donuts yesterday, you weren't even expecting them." You scoff and Spencer chuckles.
"Well thank you for the donuts y/n." Spencer smiles.
"If you like them I'll bring you some more often."
"You're supposed to bring donuts for me though." Derek huffs.
"And today I brought them for Spencer. You get donuts all the time you'll be fine." You roll your eyes.
"This is favoritism." Derek says.
"No more than me bringing you donuts literally every couple of days." You scoff.
"Are you trying to replace me?"
"Replace you!? Morgan- you do realize it's just a donut, right?"
"It's the principle of the thing!"
"Okay, what if I just- don't ask for her to bring me donuts again?" Spencer asks.
"Don't be ridiculous Spence if you want donuts all you have to do is ask." You say.
"I just feel like-"
"Oh, hush. You're so dramatic. Salma says hello though." You cut Derek off.
"Now you're being mean." He gasps.
"Who is Salma?" Spencer asks.
"She owns the bakery." Derek says.
"She knows you?" Spencer turns to Derek.
"She knows I have a work friend that I buy donuts for. So when I came in this morning and ordered something different I had to explain that they weren't for that work friend."
"Salt. In the wound." Derek says.
"Will you relax if I give you half of my donut? It's a new one so Salma wants feedback anyway."
"It's not the same."
"There is just no pleasing you Derek Morgan." You shake your head.
"It's actually very easy, bring me donuts."
"This conversation has gone on too long I'm going to the kitchen." You say standing up and leaving the bullpen. In the kitchen, you pour yourself water from the Brita pitcher.
"Does Morgan really take this donut thing that seriously?" Spencer's voice startles you as you sip your water and you barely avoid choking on it.
"Jesus you move like a cat. No, but he does take getting on my nerves that seriously." You say.
"Oh- well I just wanted to thank you again, for bringing me donuts."
"You said you like donuts."
"I do! But- since I didn't get around to asking for some, it was a pleasant surprise."
"Well that's what I was going for so mission success." You smile. Spencer returns it with a bright one of his own.
"Actually, can I ask you something?"
"Of course hon. Anything."
"Well I was-"
"Good morning Spencer! Y/n!" Penelope greets happily as she enters the kitchen.
"Hey Pen." You smile at her and turn your attention back to Spencer.
"Good morning Garcia." Spencer nods.
"Oh! Y/n! You know that- task you brought to me last week?" She asks.
"Yes?"
"I got a hit."
"Seriously?"
"Have I ever let you down?" She winks.
"Oh you are truly the best there is! I'll be by your office in a little bit okay?" You tell her.
"Alrighty!" She says going, most likely to her office.
"You were saying?" You prompt Spencer.
"Is that important? Because my thing can totally wait- actually I don't think now's a good time to ask anyway." Spencer shakes his head.
"You're sure? Because the thing with Penelope isn't even work related. It is by no means time sensitive if you need to talk about something." You tell him.
"I'm sure, this can wait, it should wait. Now is a bad time I realize." He says. Your face scrunches a bit in confusion as you regard Spencer for a moment.
"As long as you're sure." You say hesitantly.
"One hundred percent. Go." He nods.
"Alright, but whatever it is, don't put it off too long, okay?"
"Promise." Spencer gives you a small smile and you turn to go to Penelope's office, wondering what could be on his mind. It doesn't come up for the rest of the day. You do your work, he does his, and though you speak throughout the day he at no point brings up the million dollar question he wanted to ask you this morning, and honestly by the time you're going home you've kind of forgotten about it. It's not until you're back at your place that it comes to mind again and that's only when Spencer calls you pretty much as soon as you step through your front door.
"You have insane timing, you know you called me just as I stepped into my apartment?"
"It usually takes you approximately 23 minutes to get home from work so I took a guess at when you'd be off the road based on when you left. Didn't think I'd be that on the nose though." Spencer says.
"Well- I hope everything's alright, seeing as you're calling me and we just left work at the same place. To what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask.
"The question I wanted to ask you this morning. I promised you I wouldn't put it off too long. I actually figured it would be easier for me to ask you this over the phone so I called." Spencer says.
"Oh yes. What ya got for me, sweetness?"
"I know that we're- coworkers and this might make things weird or whatever but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date with me? You of course don't have to say yes and if you don't I promise not to make things awkward at the office - we can just pretend this never happened but I- couldn't just not at least ask."
"A date?" You blink. Spencer wants to go on a date with you.
"Yes. Only if you want to, no pressure. I really don't want you to feel pressured or anything. It doesn't have to be a thing if it doesn't-" 
"Spencer!" You cut him off.
"Yes?"
"If you're going to ask me on a date you have to give me a chance to answer beloved." You smile.
"Oh- right. Sorry."
"I would love to go on a date with you."
"Seriously?"
"Of course." You say. Spencer lets out a relieved sigh that makes you want to giggle.
"Cool." He breathes. "I have to plan. I'll call you once I've sorted everything out. Is that okay?"
"Works for me." You nod even though he can't see you.
"Okay. It'll probably take me a while though so- in case it's too late to call you again tonight, good night."
"Spencer."
"Yes?"
"Don't obsess over making it perfect. I'll enjoy whatever we do as long as we're together. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight." He says softly.
You hang up before you end up dragging out the conversation and also so you can let out a ridiculous squeal that you would never let Spencer hear. You're... giddy. Like a teenager all over again. And you have to force yourself to go about your evening routines as opposed to just waiting for Spencer to call you all night.
***
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mydearzero · 8 months
Note
helloooo beautiful, ur recent Spence fic sent me feral - can I request a Reid x reader where they’re dating and the non bau!reader gets jealous of JJ getting to spend all this time w Spence at work and spence reassuring her it’s nothing between them. Fluff but if it got smutty then hey ;) thank you gorgeous
Hii! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoy!! I was honestly feeling kinda mushy about this one so adding smut just felt out of place, sorry for that one folks
About a Girl | Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: You could never be like her. You were at peace with that. So why couldn't you shake the jealous, envious feeling whenever you saw Spencer with JJ?
Contents: NO Y/N, gn!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, comparing yourself to others, insecurity, fluff, non-BAU!reader, bathing together.
1.8K words it's short I know
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SSA Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau: Mom, profiler, and one of Spencer's best friends. You looked up to her, in a way. She was successful and respected in her field, something anybody could only wish for. Combined with her sense of humour, personality and undeniable good looks, you were jealous. 
It had taken some time for you to admit it to yourself. You liked JJ. She was a good, honest person and a great friend to your boyfriend. But you slowly felt yourself comparing yourself to her increasingly often. 
You couldn't live up to it. You weren't like JJ. Somewhere deep inside, the logical part of your brain told you that you didn't have to be. Spencer liked you for who you were. You knew it, yet you couldn't shake the envious feeling anytime her name fell in conversation. You couldn't stop the tight feeling you got in your chest whenever you saw the head of long blonde locks fall backwards in a hearty laugh directed at your boyfriend. 
Spencer knew something was wrong. How could he not? It was ingrained into his very being to read you at any given time. He wouldn't understand. You loved him, you did, but these were the types of things he just couldn't seem to grasp. You knew your feelings were irrational in theory. But that didn't mean you didn't still feel them regardless. He'd try to explain them away. 
So you didn't tell him. Refused to talk about the simmering bitterness. 
It frustrated Spencer. You could tell. He was usually able to read you like the morning paper, thrown carelessly on the lawn. He couldn't be objective in his profiling when it came to you. He knew you were on friendly terms with his best friend, so why would he ever assume that that was the problem? 
You didn't blame him, didn't blame anybody but yourself. 
It wasn't until a regular Thursday night dinner over at Rossi's that Spencer finally figured it out. The atmosphere was light, wine was flowing, and stories were being shared. Spencer laughed wholeheartedly at one of JJ's tales about Henry's late-night shenanigans. He'd caught your strange, longing gaze directed at JJ. His heart broke at the realisation, putting the pieces together at lightning speed.
You were jealous of his friendship with JJ and beating yourself up for it. He didn't know what to do about it. He could only assure you he loved you, but Spencer knew you knew that. He knew you were likely aware your worries were unwarranted. Which must only make you feel worse about the feelings you were harbouring. Spencer cursed silently at himself for not realising it earlier. 
You met his gaze, giving him a soft, genuine smile. So, the feelings weren't directed at him. It was JJ who was troubling you. He turned to her, seated next to him. You'd insisted on sitting next to Emily, claiming you needed to catch up with her. Were you punishing yourself for feeling the way you did? By making him choose to sit next to JJ? 
Spencer excused himself from the table, claiming to feel unwell. You frowned, gathering your things, saying your goodbyes and following Spencer out the door. He didn't speak as his hand met your lower back, guiding you to the passenger side of his car. He held the door as you got in. 
The ride to his apartment was silent but not necessarily unpleasant. Spencer's hand reached for yours over the console, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing manner.
"You okay?" You asked. He'd seemed fine only minutes earlier. He nodded, squeezing your hand. 
"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?" Spencer inquired. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why he'd ask. He was the one that wanted to leave, after all. 
"Yeah? I'm fine. Why? Is that why you wanted to go? Because you thought I wasn't?" You'd been having fun exchanging stories with Emily. What had he seen that had made him immediately pack up and leave? 
"Yeah... Let's talk when we get home, okay?" He sent a quick look into your eyes, assuring you it was nothing bad. It didn't make the dread building in your stomach any less present. 
Spencer parked the car and got the door for you. He usually was a true gentleman, but he was noticeably going out of his way to ensure your comfort. 
You walked up to his door and waited for him to unlock it. He took your jacket and hung it on the rack beside his own. You took your shoes off and put them by the door, giving Spencer a peck on his cheek as he passed you into the kitchen. 
"Tea?" His voice echoed. 
"Yes, please!" You replied, plopping down on the couch and getting comfortable. Spencer was obviously not troubled by the topic he wanted to talk about, so the tension you felt in the car was slowly dissipating. 
Spencer walked carefully with the mugs in either hand. He put yours in front of you before sitting down and taking a tentative sip of his own, hissing at the heat. 
"You wanted to talk?" You urged, no longer having the patience to wait. 
"Yeah... I just noticed something tonight I should've noticed before. I don't know how to change your feelings about it, though. I know you know I love you more than anything. So, I understand you're feeling conflicted, and I'm not mad you kept it to yourself." Spencer started. He was hesitant. 
"Kept what to myself, Spence?" Your heart was beating fast, and you cursed your body for overreacting. He obviously wasn't mad or breaking up with you. 
"Your feelings about my friendship with JJ," Spencer spoke outright. Your heart dropped, and you couldn't help but feel caught. You closed your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek, turning your head away from him.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Spencer's words were quiet, but you knew there was no use hiding it from him anymore. You nodded in defeat before jumping to your own defence. 
"I know it's irrational, okay? I know I have nothing to worry about. I know JJ's just a good friend, and she's happily married to Will, and she has the kids and... And I know you'd never do anything to jeopardise our relationship, and I know you love me, but you spend so much time with her at work, and she has a key to your apartment, and I know it was just to look after your mom while she was here-" You rambled, but Spencer sushed you. 
"Hey, hey. I know. I know. There's no need to defend the way you're feeling. Sometimes, feelings can be irrational, and I do spend a lot of time with her. I know that you know, okay? That doesn't make the way that you're feeling any less valid," Spencer assured you. 
"I'm so sorry, Spencer. I just- I can't stop it once I start. She's amazing, Spence. And I know you'll say I am, as well. But it's not the same. It'll never be the same. I can't give you what she does." 
"And I'm not asking you to. I'm in a relationship with you. She's one of my best friends. Those dynamics offer different things, and I'm okay with that. If you want me to change my dynamic with JJ, I'll work on it. Just tell me what you need, please," Spencer begged. 
A singular tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek. You wanted to scoff at it. You'd kept it in for so long. You weren't even sure where the bitterness came from nor where it was truly directed. 
"I guess I just need the external validation. I know you love me, and I feel it. My head knows you wouldn't let anything get between us. It's just my heart that won't cooperate." Spencer tugged you to his chest, putting a hand in your hair and stroking softly. 
"There's no need to apologise. You can't force your body to change how you're feeling, unfortunately. If it was that straightforward, my job would be a whole lot easier, too." Spencer laughed. 
A short laugh escaped through your tears. "I know, Spence. I just wish I could shut it off. JJ's a wonderful person. She doesn't deserve this." 
"And neither do you. And if it's gonna take some extra effort from me to make your body catch up with your head, I'll gladly put it in. Come on," Spencer got up, taking your hand in his. You trailed behind him as he stalked to the bathroom. He turned the faucet on, waiting for it to get warm before letting the water fill the bathtub. He put a generous amount of aromatic soap into it, letting it bubble. 
"Wait here," he urged. 
You stared at the grout between the tiles, following the paths it created as you waited for Spencer to return. The sound of the water plummeting into the tub covered any conspicuous noises coming from whatever he was doing. Steam was slowly forming around you, the bathroom filling with the lavender scent of Spencer's favourite soap. 
He quickly returned, arms filled with all sorts of products. Candles, snacks, a book and some comfy clothes. 
"Why're you still dressed?" He questioned, positioning the candles around the tub and bathroom. 
"You said to wait!" You shrugged. 
"Well, get on with it!" Spencer laughed, encouraging you to undress. 
"Gee, Reid. Someone might almost think you want to see me naked." You winked, tugging your top over your head. 
"Oh, I always want to see you naked, but that's not what tonight is about," Spencer assured. He lit a few candles, their light making the bathroom less clinical-looking in an instant. 
You remained in your underwear, assuming Spencer would be joining you after his frantic preparations. When he finally had everything arranged how he wanted it, he undressed. You took off your underwear and let him help you into the bath, careful to avoid any candles. He got in behind you, pulling you backwards to settle against his chest. 
"I love you," Spencer declared, taking some soap and rubbing your back. The great thing about having a boyfriend with an eidetic memory is that he could remember many massage techniques intended for relaxation. You unwound under his gentle touch. 
You stayed in the water until both of you were pruned up. Spencer had read to you, fed you snacks, massaged every part of your body he could think of and made sure you felt loved. 
Sure, you weren't like JJ. But she wasn't like you, either. And that was okay. It wouldn't make Spencer love you any less, nor her any more. 
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a-simple-gaywitch · 1 year
Text
Amidst the Chaos
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary:  Spencer and (Y/N) didn't get along, and it annoyed the whole BAU. But when a traumatized (Y/N) shows up at Spencer's apartment late one night, their whole relationship shifts
Warnings: PTSD, trauma, references to torture, other canon-typical topics
Word Count:  3827
Author’s Note: not necessarily my best fic, but i’ve been working on it for over a year so... here it is
Orpheus - Sara Bareilles
AO3 Link
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“Don't stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos. Though I know it's blinding, there's a way out.” ~ Sara Bareilles, Orpheus
~
“Guys, I want you to meet our newest team member,” Hotch said to the BAU as they settled around the table. “This is Agent (Y/N) (L/N).”
You gave a shy wave to the group in front of you, but your smile was bright enough to light up the entire room. “Hi.”
“She’s coming to us from Organized Crime. I trust that you’ll all welcome her to the team.”
“Honestly, I’m just happy to be given a chance to work with all of you. It’s been my dream to work at the BAU for years.”
“We’ll have time to get to know Agent (L/N) better on the plane. But for now, we have a case,” Hotch said. “JJ?”
~
“So,” Derek said, taking a seat next to you on the jet. “What was Organized Crime like?”
“Honestly? Boring as all hell. It was mostly stopping money laundering and drug cartels,” you said. “Not as glamorous as Goodfellas makes it seem. Besides, the BAU was always my end goal anyway.”
He chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I get that. We’re glad to have you on our team. ” The conversation between you and Morgan flowed easily and before you knew it, you had become like brother and sister. The rest of the team grew to love you too. Well, most of the team. 
Spencer seemed icy and cold toward you, and no one could offer a valid explanation. By all accounts, you should have gotten along. You loved Halloween just as much as Spencer did and you always had at least 3 books on your person at a time. You had a borderline unhealthy addiction to caffeine and sugar and spent more time in the office than your apartment. But for some reason, you and Spencer just seemed to constantly be at each other’s throats. 
In your defense, Reid had started it. 
For whatever reason, Reid disliked you right out the gate. He tried to be civil toward you, but something about you just bothered him. 
He originally just tried to avoid you when he could, but with the nature of the team’s dynamic, that didn’t work out well. 
Spencer found himself doing small, petty things to annoy you, like putting your favorite mug on the top shelf where you couldn’t reach it or borrowing your pens and “forgetting” to return them. Something about seeing you mildly inconvenienced and annoyed as opposed to your normally happy and bubbly self made him feel better. He knew it was fucked up of him. 
Eventually, the animosity became mutual. You and Spencer were rarely paired together on cases because Hotch couldn’t stand the constant arguing between the two of you. Mostly, Hotch tended to pair you with Derek who you began to see as a brother. 
Spencer would never admit it, but seeing you and Derek be as close as you were stirred some kind of jealousy in him. He figured it was just because he had been friends with Morgan first, that was all. 
~
Local cases were always extra stressful on the team. Something about unsubs being so close to home made the cases more personal. As such, tensions were running high and no one had slept in over 24 hours as the team worked to nail down a profile. 
“This doesn’t make sense,” you muttered as you looked over the crime scene photos. “The crime profiles as disorganized but the victimology and timeline profile him as organized.” 
“How you doing there, Pretty Girl?” Morgan asked, setting down a carrier of coffee cups. 
You sighed and picked up the cup with your name scrawled on it. “There’s discrepancies in our preliminary profile and I can’t…”
“Did you try comparing notes with Reid?”
“Derek, I love you, but are you insane?”
“I’m serious, (Y/N).”
“So am I. Any time I try to have any kind of civilized conversation with that man he turns it into an argument.”
Thankfully, Hotch came into the room at that point, stopping the conversation. “We have two potential leads. Morgan, you’re going with Blake to the first address. (L/N), you and Reid are going to the second.” Hotch tossed you both keys for SUVs. “Reid and Blake have the files. They’ll fill you in on the drive.”
“Yes, sir.” You grabbed your coffee from the table, along with Reid’s, and headed out to the car. When you got to the parking lot, Reid was already leaning against the car, flipping through a file folder. “Reid. Here.”
As you handed him the coffee, he said, “What, was everyone else busy?”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just following Hotch’s orders.” You unlocked the car and climbed in. “Where are we going?”
“21 Rock Creek Road, Somerset. We’re interviewing Linda Walsh, the neighbor of our first victim, Savanna Curtis.”
“Great. Can you type it into the GPS?”
“Why? I can just give you the directions.”
“Because the GPS is more accurate.”
“(L/N), I have an eidetic memor-”
“Eidetic memory, I know. But you’re telling me your memory can predict traffic patterns? I don’t think so. Just use the damn GPS.”
“Fine.” Spencer typed the address in, muttering under his breath.
“Thank you. What information do we have on Walsh?”
“72 years old, she was reportedly in the house when Curtis was attacked and taken to the secondary location. Hotch wants us to interview her and see if she noticed anything that might help us with the profile.”
Soon enough, the two of you pulled up to the witness’s house. Before even getting out of the car, you felt like something was wrong. 
”Wait, Reid.” You grabbed his arm as he reached for the door handle. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at the windows. All of them are dark. Not even a television glow. Something’s off.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re right.” 
You hopped out of the car and pulled your gun from your side, following Reid up the path to the house. He knocked on the front door. 
“I don’t hear anything from inside.” He knocked again. “Go around the back, see if you can get in that way.”
You nodded and walked around the house. You could hear Reid continuing to knock as you went around. As you rounded the corner, a sharp pain entered your shoulder. You yelled and turned around, but not before a blunt object hit you in the temple and your vision faded.
~
Spencer was panicking. You were missing, and it was his fault. He was pacing in the front yard of Walsh’s home while the team and the local authorities worked to catch up. 
“Reid, what happened?” Hotch asked. “We need everything.”
Spencer relayed every detail from the moment the two of you pulled up to the house, still pacing. “I shouldn’t have told her to go off on her own, it’s my fault-”
“Kid, breathe,” Morgan told him. “You didn’t know this would happen. What’s important now is finding her and bringing her home safe.”
The team did a thorough inspection on Mrs. Walsh’s home and learned a good deal. Mrs. Walsh wasn’t home, as was reported. However, her son, Devin, was clearly staying with her. It didn’t take the team long to figure out he was the unsub. 
~
When you awoke, you were in a secondary location. Your head was throbbing behind your eyes and your shoulder was in agony. Your arms were tied behind your back, but that was the only restraint to your mobility. You looked around, trying to figure out where you were. It was a large, open space, you guessed a warehouse, probably abandoned. It was dark, except for the glow of the streetlights outside and an industrial lamp in the center of the room. You didn’t have much time to assess your surroundings, though, because Walsh was waiting for you to wake up.
You knew the facts of the case. You saw the photos. He kept the women for 24 hours, torturing them until their bodies were barely recognizable. Then, he’d kill and dump them.
But you also knew your team. They were relentless. And they would save you.
~
“We’ve seen what he does to his victims. We’re in a race against the clock here,” Morgan argued with Hotch.
“But we still have to keep our heads and follow the law. If we don’t get a warrant, any evidence we do find goes right out the window.”
“Guys, Garcia found something,” JJ said. She put her phone on speaker. “Go ahead, Garcia.”
“So, Walsh’s dear old dad was the owner of a warehouse in the 80s. The warehouse is still in his name but has since been abandoned. And before you even ask, yes, I sent you the address.”
~
The SUVs pulled up to the warehouse and the team jumped out. The plan was to enter the building slow and quiet, but that changed when they heard you scream, followed by a gunshot. Then, everything went silent. Completely silent.
Everyone rushed into the building. The team was terrified of what they were about to find. What they saw, no one could have expected. 
You were lying unconscious on the floor, in a pool of blood. Also on the floor, with a bullet hole through his forehead, was Devin Walsh. Standing with a gun in her hands was 72 year old Linda Walsh, tears running down her face. 
“I had to,” she said, looking at Hotch. “He was gonna kill her.”
“We need a medic!”
~
The team was sitting around your hospital bed. The doctor had said you probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, but they were determined to have someone there with you when you did. 
“We should take shifts,” JJ suggested. “That way there’s always someone here and the rest of us can get some rest, too.”
“That’s a good idea. Dave and I can take the first shift,” Hotch said. “We’ll do four-hour rotations in pairs.”
They talked through who would pair up and take what rotations before Rossi shooed the rest of the team out.
Eventually, Reid and Morgan were on their “shift.” Morgan glanced over at Reid, who was staring at the same page of a book. 
“You ever gonna flip that page?”
“What if she doesn’t wake up?”
“Kid, you heard the doctor. She will.”
“But what if she doesn’t? It would be my fault. I’m the one who made her go off by herself. We were supposed to be a team and I couldn’t see past-” He cut himself off, shaking his head.
“Hey,” Morgan put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “it’ll be okay, Reid. I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Want one?”
“Sure.” After Morgan left, Spencer looked at you and sighed. Your body was wrapped in casts and bandages. “Hey, (L/N),” he said, reaching out and resting his hand on top of yours.
~
One thing you didn’t expect about being in a medically induced coma was to still hear everything going on around you. You could hear the doctors and nurses moving about your room. You could hear your teammates. You heard Hotch and Rossi talking about the paperwork they’d have to file on the case because an agent had been seriously injured. You heard the music Penelope insisted on playing, and you heard Spencer. 
“Hey, (L/N),” you heard him say. “I don’t know if you can hear me but,” he took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. Not just for this. I mean, obviously for this. I never should have split us up, I never should have sent you around the back of the house, I never should have-” he stopped himself. You could hear the tightness in his voice. Was he crying? No, Reid wouldn’t be crying over you. Would he? But he continued. “I was awful to you. I mean, I was an asshole,” he said with a dry laugh. “There’s no other word for it. I was an asshole to you and there was no excuse. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I-”
~
“One cup of sugar with a splash of coffee,” Derek said, coming back into the room. 
“Thanks.” Reid took the cup in both his hands, grateful for a distraction from his guilt. 
“Any change?”
He shook his head. “None.”
Derek sighed. “You know, part of me was really hoping she’d wake up in the five minutes I was gone.” He gripped your hand that wasn’t casted up. “We miss you, Pretty Girl.”
~
Your coma lasted for about 3 weeks. The doctors kept you in the hospital for observation for another full week before finally letting you go home.
During your recovery, your apartment was practically a revolving door. Just about the entire team came by to check on you and keep you company, with the exception of Spencer. You couldn’t say you were too surprised. However, something about it upset you. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi took the time to stop by and check on you. 
Derek and Penelope were probably your most frequent visitors. You were honestly grateful for their visits, and for the help it brought. With your injuries, simple day-to-day tasks were more difficult for you, and Penelope and Derek were more than happy to help you out. Derek took your grocery list and all your other errands while Penelope helped around your apartment. You were even more grateful when they forced you to attend a dinner party at Rossi’s. Penelope was at your apartment, helping you pick out a dress for the event.
“I don’t know, Pen.”
“(Y/N), I’m telling you, purple is your color.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want my dress to match my bruises.”
Penelope just rolled her eyes and tossed the dress on your bed. “Do you really think I’d pick out a dress that didn’t make you look good? Let’s go, you haven’t had a proper shower in a week.”
Penelope helped you get ready for the dinner party before getting ready herself. She helped adjust the strap of your brace when your doorbell buzzed. 
“That’ll be Derek,” you said. Penelope answered the door to Derek standing outside, leaning against your doorframe. 
“Well, look at these pretty ladies. You ready to go?”
“Yeah, I need to get out of this house,” you said. “I haven’t seen anything but these walls in weeks.”
When you pulled into Rossi’s driveway, you were more than excited to see the team. The team, in turn, was excited to see you. You were smiling and laughing, more and more of your normal self. 
When Spencer saw you walk through Rossi’s front door on your crutches, a lump formed in his throat. Ever since seeing you in the hospital, he’d been wracked with guilt. It was the main reason why he hadn’t visited you like everyone else. He tried to avoid you the whole night. Thankfully, you were so happy to be with the others that you didn’t seem to notice. But Blake did. 
“Okay, what’s going on with you?” she asked Spencer, handing him a drink. 
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re avoiding everyone tonight. Why?” When Spencer stayed silent, Blake followed his line of sight. He was watching you talking with JJ. “Ah. Why don’t you go talk to her?”
“I can’t, Alex. Believe me, I’ve tried. For months. Any time I try and have just a normal goddamn conversation with her, what comes out is sarcastic and cruel. I-I don’t know why it happens.” He ran his hands over his face and groaned. 
“You’re in love with her.” Blake wasn’t saying it as a question. Seeing the panic in his eyes, she said, “Don’t worry, it’ll stay with me.”
~
The heavy sheets of rain outside pounded against the apartment windows. It was the kind of cold rain that seeped into your bones, despite a warm home. It was late, but Spencer was still awake, reading. He couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t unusual for him. He heard a knock on his door. Spencer set his book down on his coffee table before walking to his door. He glanced out the peephole and took a step back in shock. Spencer opened the door to see you standing there, soaked and visibly shivering, in only your pajamas. Your eyes were bloodshot and you were sniffling. 
“(L/N)? What are you-”
“I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want me here and I don’t even know how I ended up here, I just started walking and-”
“Wait, wait, you walked here? In the torrential downpour?” When you nodded, Spencer opened his door wider. “Here, come in. You must be freezing. What happened?”
You stepped through his door and began to ramble, “I don’t know. I woke up from a nightmare and I knew I-I couldn’t stay in my apartment alone so I just started walking and somehow I ended up here and I’m sorry.” Your teeth were chattering as you continued to shiver. 
Spencer grabbed a blanket off the back of his couch and draped it around you. “No, no, it’s, um-” Spencer cleared his throat. “Do you want to talk about it? I’ve found that sometimes just saying it out loud helps.”
Once you nodded, Spencer held his hand out and led you over to his couch. You were silent for a few moments, staring out the window at the rain streaming down. 
“I was back… there,” you said when you finally started talking. “In the dark. I-I couldn’t see anything but I knew he was there. Then I felt his hands on my throat and-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. Your whole body was shivering, but Spencer didn’t think it was from the cold anymore. 
Spencer moved to put his arm around you but stopped, dropping his arm back to his side. “I know how you feel,” he said. “After Hankle, I couldn’t handle looking at the crime scene photos because I knew what the victims were thinking right… you know… right before.”
“Do they ever stop? The nightmares?”
“I don’t know. Mine haven’t.” When he saw the defeat on your face, he added, “But it does get easier.”
You nodded, still staring out at the pouring rain. You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, I’ll, um, I’ll call a taxi and get out of your hair.”
“You don’t- uh, you can stay, um, if-if you want,” Spencer said. 
“Reid, I don’t want to impose-”
“You wouldn’t be!” Spencer assured you. “I could use the company, actually. I’ve been trying to find someone to watch Stardust with me. Penelope says I need to watch more pop culture and I know you’re a fan of Neil Gaiman.” He gave you a soft smile. “Please, (Y/N), stay. I promise, you’re not imposing.”
When he saw your face crack into a small smile, he felt a swarm of butterflies rise in his stomach. “Okay,” you said. 
About halfway through the movie, Spencer felt you slump against his shoulder. Before he knew it, you were fast asleep. He was frozen there, not wanting to disturb you. He knew how rough the past few months had been, and it was obvious to everyone you weren’t sleeping. Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was more, but Spencer felt like it was now his responsibility to take care of you, if you would let him.
~
The whole team noticed the shift between you and Reid. Where you would previously stay as far from each other as possible, you were now actively seeking each other out. You chose to sit next to each other in the briefing room and on the jet, something you had never done before. On the trips back from cases, you would rest your head on Reid’s shoulder and sleep while he read a book. But, no one said anything about any of it. No one wanted to burst whatever weird bubble was surrounding the BAU team. 
That was, until Blake, Derek, and JJ spotted you knocking on Spencer’s motel door one night during a case. The two were sitting up in the lounge going over the case files yet again when they spotted you, in your pajamas, sneaking out of your own room. 
After watching you slip into Spencer’s room, JJ said, “You don’t think they’re…”
“Reid and (L/N)? No, there’s no way. They can’t stand each other.”
“Well, they do say there’s a thin line between love and hate,” Alex noted, turning the page in her book. 
“I don’t know about you two, but I need to know what’s going on,” Derek said, getting up from the couch. 
“I’m coming with you!”
“Guys, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex warned. “Just talk to them about it in the morning.”
“Do you know something, Alex?” JJ asked. 
“Even if I did know something, it wouldn’t be my place to tell you.”
~
The next morning, you felt eyes on you as you drank your coffee. You looked up from the case file to see Derek staring at you. 
“What?”
“Were you going to tell me about you and Reid or…”
“What are you talking about? Me and Reid?”
“(Y/N), come on. You two are practically attached at the hip when just two weeks ago you couldn’t fucking stand each other.”
You shrugged. “We worked out our differences, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Alright, what about you sneaking off to his room last night?”
Your face paled. “It’s not what it looked like.”
“Care to explain then?”
You sighed, looking around to make sure it was just you and Morgan. “You know I haven’t been sleeping since, well, everything.” Derek nodded. “Well, a few nights ago I ended up at Reid’s apartment in a panic. It was pouring out so he let me just stay and I slept better than I had in years. And, you know, he’s not too bad to hang out with either,” your face flushed with your last statement. 
“You’re not too bad to hang out with either.”
You jumped, turning around to see Spencer in the doorway with cups of (good) coffee in his arms.
“Spencer, when did-”
He handed you a frappuccino. “Just now. I take it you weren’t as sneaky as you thought?”
“Shut up,” you whined, nudging him with your arm as you stuck a straw in your drink. Spencer just laughed and took a seat next to you.
“So, you’re just, like, friends now?”
You and Spencer looked at each other, seemingly having a conversation without speaking.
“I mean, I’d say we’re a bit more than just friends,” you admitted, smiling at Spencer. He kissed the top of your head. 
“Damn, I owe JJ 10 bucks,” Derek muttered before saying, “But seriously, I’m happy for you two. It’s about time you realized you were perfect for each other.”
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reidscanehand · 9 months
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I Remember Halloween
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Category: Fluff/Comfort
Warnings: mentions of burnout and anxieties
Based on a single tiktok and this song
~ More and more I’ll catalogue my doubts ~
You could see the signs. Hell, you’d always been able to see the signs. Even when you and Spencer weren’t dating and were just co-workers, you’d been able to see the signs. You don’t see how anyone could miss any of Spencer’s tells, honestly, though he was terribly good at masking them when he wanted to. However, since semi-retiring from the BAU and focusing more on teaching, Spencer had been less careful, less guarded. It would annoy him if you said so, but you delighted in it - the openness, the guard finally down fully. Suffice it to say that when your adorable husband came home two weeks in a row, exhausted even after only teaching one class, you recognized it as burnout, even if he didn’t. Or wouldn’t - self care had never been Spencer’s strong suit. Which is why the element of surprise is entirely necessary, no matter how drastic it may feel. It was incredibly helpful that, despite living through a pandemic working in education and being a genius, your husband still is an abysmally precious mess when it comes to technology.
You’d originally thought to do a Friday, but with various friend and family celebrations almost every weekend until the end of the year, it made more sense - and frankly made it more fun - to cancel Spencer’s classes for a day and play hooky a little.
It’s a bright and slightly rainy Thursday morning - random, but purposefully so - in September. Your husband’s alarm goes off and he leans over, pressing a kiss to your temple, before getting up and taking a shower. Every so often, you’d join him in the shower, but not today. Today you get up and head to the kitchen.
You’d loved Spencer’s old apartment, but when the two of you moved in together, especially after the events of his last few somewhat traumatizing years with the BAU, a change felt necessary. The two bedroom, two bath bungalow you two found just outside of Stafford, Virginia was just as charming as Spencer’s old place. Antique, but modern enough to have better security than his old building (he is understandably a stickler for safety). The kitchen features windows looking out into your small backyard, Spencer planted a tree last year and you’re sure it was in order to watch the leaves change as fall arrives. The tips of the leaves are just beginning to yellow, the light rain a perfect background for the day you have planned. You turn on the stove and oven and open the fridge, pulling out a can of pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls and the package of turkey bacon. You begin cooking and you can hear your husband start getting ready and, just as you thought it would, the smell of the food draws him away from his typical morning routine (get dressed, make coffee, grab a granola bar if he remembers to) and brings him to the kitchen.
“Is there a reason,” he asks from the doorway, “that it smells…like, um-“
“Like fall?” you ask, smiling over your shoulder at him as you flip the turkey bacon in the pan. Spencer grins and you turn back to the food.
“Well, yeah,” Spencer says. “You planning a fun day alone?”
You wince a little at the small hint of jealousy you hear in his voice, thrilled that your response is, “No, not alone.”
“Oh,” he replies, a little shocked. “Is someone coming ov-“
“Nope,” you reply cheerfully, grabbing a mitt and pulling the cinnamon rolls out of the oven.
“Wait…wait, what?” Spencer questions, totally not distracted by you bending over like that.
“Come on, lovey,” you tease, turning to face him fully. “Put the pieces together.”
He stares at you for a moment and then looks almost overwhelmingly sad, “Honey, I have three classes today, I can’t-“
“About that,” you cut him off quietly. He arches a brow at you, but you cross to the end of the kitchen island, pulling out Spencer’s university laptop and opening it, clicking to his classes’ dashboard page on the school’s site and turning it around slowly, chewing on your lip just a little nervously.
“Dear Students,” Spencer reads after popping on his glasses. “Classes are cancelled until Monday due to slight illness on my part. Have a great long weekend - be sure to read ahead for Monday!”
There’s a slightly too long silence that makes you just a bit nervous.
“I know it might be a bit of an overstep, but you’ve just seemed so…so burned out lately and-“ you’re cut off as Spencer moves to stand right in front of you.
“You cancelled my classes for me?” he asks, a small smile poking at the corner of his mouth.
“Yes,” you reply.
“So that we could…do what, exactly?” He attempts to keep his smile at bay, but is nearly beaming.
“Well,” you smile, “I thought we could eat some pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls and bacon and, I don’t know, maybe get really cozy on our super comfortable couch and watch Hocus Pocus, Corpse Bride, and Practical Magic? Maybe throw in Crimson Peak if we’re still going strong?”
“Just to clarify, you realized I was burned out and decided to plan a cozy fall movie day to make me feel better?” Spencer asks, almost incredulous, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“That would be it, yes,” you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Damn,” he mutters quietly, looking down at you.
“What?” you giggle.
“Nothing,” Spencer beams, turning his head and eyeing your lips, “I just definitely married the perfect woman.”
Your laugh is quickly quashed by his lips on yours.
~ I remember Halloween. ~
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