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#spencer <3
folklorefairyy · 5 months
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spencer reid is the ultimate boyfriend <3
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bookshelf-dust · 7 months
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MONDAY SMOOCH BABYYYYYY
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🥺🥺 thank you, baby!!! i really, really needed that today. i love you!! and i hope you’re having a really good day.
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inkluvs · 6 months
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THE THEME IS SO PRETTY!! I love the green <3
thank uuuu ily <3
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trobeds · 8 months
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15 + 39 !!
hi spencer !!
15. favorite movie dead poets society oh my god i am not normal about that film ...................................... its so :( i hate it i love it it is everything 2 me !!!!!!!!!!!
39. favorite ice cream flavor chocolate anything!!!!! mint chocolate chip & cookies n cream though <3
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liagazed · 1 year
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i hc that you're really stupid. kidding.
i hc that you fall in love fast and get your heart broken too much and you don't deserve it because you're absolutely amazing
you crave body, face, and hair you can't have, but everyone already loves you the way you are
you want many things you can't have, but the one thing you know you can have has a fixed date too far in the future
i'm— wow.
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I may or may not have shed a tear. you'll never know.
This is—
I DON'T EVEN HAVE WORDS FOR THIS? AND THATS NOT JUST SAYING SOMETHING BC I HAVE COMMENTARY FOR EVERYTHING :((((
HOWEVER, i will confirm that these are accurate—
I love u wtf.
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starkeysprincess · 1 year
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how are you -spencer
I’m not too bad :) how are you?
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reidsdaisies · 1 month
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Hey, can I get a tulip with prompt 24? Spencer and female reader hugging randomly on cases?
Congrats on 500 followers !!!
༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; spencer reid x fem!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ content warning; hugging, r kisses spence
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.2k
༉‧´ˎ˗ prompt(s); tulip, 24 – hugging them at random
celebrate with me!
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𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Spencer Reid was usually averse to physical touch, so it was a surprise for JJ to look across the precinct and see you clinging to Spencer. He he stood in front of the board, intent on putting together the geographical profile as efficiently as possible, though it was quite difficult when you were coming up to him and squeezing him from behind.
“Hon.. I’m doing something, y’know that right?” he breathily laughs, trying to gently shake you off. He doesn’t mind the touch, but he’s still trying to focus. He feels your nod, but you have no intention of letting go, nuzzling yourself against his back.
“What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to go with JJ to interview the victims’ families?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m supposed to be with JJ right now, but I told her I forgot something.”
“Yeah, and what did you forget?” he plays along with your little game.
“To give my boyfriend a kiss goodbye.”
Spencer’s ears perked up at that, finally turning his attention to the girl attached to his back. You take his face in the palm of your hands, leaning up and smashing your lips against his. He mumbles something into your mouth, but eventually gives in and drops his hand from the board to cup your cheek. When you finally pull back, your lipgloss is visibly smeared on his parted lips. You leave Spencer there with rosy cheeks, wide eyes, and a mouth covered in lip product as you scurry off to JJ who’s waiting with a hand clamped over her mouth in attempt to not laugh at the sight of a completely bewildered Reid.
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atlabeth · 4 days
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take my breath away
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.
a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy
wc: 1.3k
warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff
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“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 
“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 
“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 
“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 
“You never did sports as a kid?” 
“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 
Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 
“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 
“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 
Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 
You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 
(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)
Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 
His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 
“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 
“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 
“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 
Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 
“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 
You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 
“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 
“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 
He nodded. “How’d you know?” 
“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 
Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 
“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 
“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 
“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 
“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 
He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 
“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 
“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”
“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 
“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”
“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 
Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 
You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 
“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 
For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 
“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 
You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 
When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 
“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 
“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 
Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  
“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 
“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 
“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 
Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 
“But my teasing’s okay?” 
He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 
“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 
His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 
“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 
“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 
“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 
Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 
You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 
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13atoms · 22 days
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Working Late (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)
Summary: After a busy few weeks, you spend a friday night in the office catching up on the never-ending pile of paperwork which appears whenever the team are whisked away on a case. To your surprise, a colleague decides to join you.
Contains: Fluff, very gentle friends-to-lovers, early seasons spencer, food | 2k words.
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If you listened for long enough, you could hear the distant hum of the vending machine.
The office was empty. It was long past the time where other departments turned their lights off, and it became acceptable to sling your shoes off and pad around in socks. The BAU was in high demand lately, and it felt as though the last three cases had been back-to-back-to-back. You could hardly remember what your bed looked like, your apartment floor was covered in clothes from hastily repacking suitcases, and the thought of cleaning it up was enough to keep you in the office.
At 7:30pm, even the most dedicated of your colleagues had rightfully headed home to partners, or sports clubs, or kids. That only left you, and the team’s mountain of paperwork which only grew each time you headed out on a case.
I’ll work late tonight, catch up on everything, then crash for the whole weekend, you’d promised Garcia at lunch. In one breath, she’d claimed that was impressive, that everyone would love you forever for getting it done, and warned you to take care of yourself.
Sometimes it was hard to know how to. You felt dreadful being here, you'd feel worse if you went home, thinking about the work hanging over you. For a moment you lay with your head on your forearm, idly massaging out the headache that had started to form.
Dinner, you realised. You hadn’t eaten dinner. Maybe that was why you felt dreadful.
The temptation to just go home would be too strong if you went out to get it, so you headed for the drawer in the kitchen full of takeout menus.
While you were flicking through the pile for the least sticky menus, the elevator doors opened.
It was almost certainly security checking to see who was still up here, or a cleaner making their rounds. Nonetheless, with half the building dark, it was hard not to suddenly be on high alert. In socked feet, you tiptoed back along the corridor until you could see the doors, already sliding closed with the carriage empty.
You crept further forward, until you could see a man, hair slightly damp around his face and a satchel looped over his body. Reid. He was stood behind your desk, peering at the computer you had left on, as though he was confused.
“Evening,” you offered, pushing against the warm fondness you felt as he jolted away from your chair in surprise.
“The computer screens turn themselves off after five minutes of inactivity, and you never leave yours unlocked. I figured something must have happened.”
He was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting to your socked feet, then back to your face.
“Evening.”
“I just went to get menus,” you held them up limply, and Reid smiled.
“Have you not been home yet?”
“No, I can’t believe you’ve been home!”
“I actually went home early,” he admitted the fact as though he was embarrassed. You were fairly sure Hotch had shoved him out of the elevator doors.
“You’ve snuck back in, them?”
Finally you crossed the bullpen, sinking back into your office chair. Reid perched on the next desk over.
“Couldn’t settle – I figured I could get through everything quickly, save everyone the job…”
“Especially after we’re inevitably called in over the weekend, and all these cases feel like a lifetime ago.”
He smiled grimly.
“Exactly.”
For a moment it was silent, and you felt a little caught at Reid finding you in the office alone like this. Your headphones lay out on the desk, music blaring tinnily from them, and you felt your face grow warm as you reached across to turn the music off.
“So you’re getting food?” he hadn’t moved, gesturing at the menus.
“Yeah. Have you had dinner?”
“Not really. If you don’t mind me joining you…”
“Not at all,” you insisted, “please.”
He glanced over the options you’d laid out, over the three piles on your desk. You wondered how long ago he’d showered, his hair was straighter than usual with the weight of being damp. He was wearing one of his usual jumpers, but he must have put a t-shirt on underneath it. There was something odd about seeing him without a shirt collar. Some insight into what Spencer wore when he wanted to be comfortable, when he thought he wouldn’t be seen.
“I– Thank you. I don’t mind going out to get it?”
“I usually just order it in, and then get security call me down and accept it.”
Reid frowned, no doubt prepared to reel off dozens of stats about security risks.
“Is that allowed?”
“No one’s ever stopped me,” you shrugged, only to delight in Reid’s wide, nervous smile.
 He’d never had the chance to be a naughty schoolboy, you’d often reflected, it was why he often seemed to look like he was being called into the principal’s office.
“So long as you make the call…”
“Don’t want to get in trouble?” you teased, and Spencer laughed.
“Absolutely not! That’s the last thing I need.”
“Well then, in that case I’m choosing Chinese. Pick something.”
You tossed him a menu, and he glanced it over before looking up to think. You’d never quite get over the way his mind worked.
Once the order was placed and Spencer had laughed over your stomach grumbling, reality sunk back in. Sat at your desk, on a Friday night, under fluorescent lights.
“Isn’t it funny to have your dream job, and it’s still so boring most of the time,” you mused, and Spencer just chuckled.
He still hadn’t moved to start his work.
“I know what you mean.”
He paused for a moment.
“Was this your dream job?”
Oh, no.
“Is that lame? I assumed this was everyone here’s dream job,” you admitted.
Spencer shrugged, and you found yourself watching him desperately for any kind of redemption from the ache of embarrassment you were feeling in your chest. It shouldn’t matter, whether Spencer thought you were lame. Somehow, it seemed like the only thing that did matter.
“I suppose I never knew where I’d end up, but I’m glad it was here.”
You nodded, waiting for him to speak more. Spencer spoke a lot, defended himself with constant talking. It was something different, rare, when he was talking about his own past.
“What am I talking about? Yeah,” he was smiling, and that meant you were smiling right back at him, all toothy and lame, “this is my dream job.”
“If it was really a dream job, they’d pay for our dinners,” you teased, and Spencer laughed.
“That’s true enough. Oh!”
He rifled through his wallet, pulling out a twenty and hunting for more.
“My half,” he offered, “thank you for letting me crash your dinner.”
“Not at all, it’s nice the you’re here! And I wasn’t angling for you to pay me back, Spencer. Don’t be daft.”
“No, you just reminded me, is all.”
He put the cash down beside your hand with an eyebrow raise, and you laughed.
“Thank you.”
You wondered how someone sourced bills so clean, it wasn’t as ratty as the cash you grabbed from your wallet.
“I’ll take it as danger money, in case security squeal on us for ordering takeout.”
“I’m not sure the late night paperwork should the riskiest part of the job.”
He laughed, and finally made a move to stand up. Suddenly you were overcome by the need to stop him from going anywhere.
“What have you got left to do?” you asked.
“Case reports, a few bits of random paperwork, I think there’s a security review and some statements to type up…”
As you talked over the workload, you realised you’d done some of the work Spencer had intended to. He offered to take over on some things, and you knew he’d complete the work perfectly, until finally the workload split between the two of you felt manageable. He pulled a chair over to share your desk, and by the time the food had arrived, you felt far better about your odds of getting home before midnight.
“Do you want to try some of this?” you offered Spencer, catching him watching you.
“Oh, um, yeah actually.”
You hadn’t really meant it. Spencer didn’t share, you’d already double-dipped and your chopsticks had been in your mouth and…
“Do you want a spring roll? These are amazing.”
You let him use his chopsticks to drop a spring roll into your container, and you smiled your thanks as he did. His face was suddenly far closer to you than you’d realised, knees inches apart as  you struggled to share one desk.
“Hm,” you mumbled, “that is good!”
“Right!”
For a while you ate in silence, and if you forgot about the fluorescent lights and stale scent of office, it was like you were sharing dinner together by choice. Spencer in his casuals, you still shoe-less, perched casually on your chair, it was nice.
“So, do you have weekend plans?”
He’d be silent for so long, you hardly heard him.
“Hm?”
“Weekend plans,” his voice dropped quieter, less stable. “What are you up to?”
Spencer was asking what your weekend plans were. Spencer.
“I just thought… asking about… asking about your weekend shows that I care for your wellbeing and builds social rapport between colleagues, or… I mean, I think we’re friends at this point? Too? So I just wanted to know what your weekend plans were.”
He was bright red and staring down at his noodles, you could see the rise and fall of his chest, the panic growing in him.
“No, Spencer, I appreciate you asking. I’m, uh, just planning on crashing to be honest. I have to clean my apartment, do all my laundry. Nothing too exciting. And my building’s laundry room is flooded – again – so I guess it’s a long wait at the laundromat.”
Desperate to say anything, to make Spencer feel better – and make sure he didn’t regret talking to you – you found yourself rambling on and on, until he was smiling nervously. Still avoiding your eye, he interrupted you gently.
“Public laundromats have all kinds of risks. My biggest concern is always bed bugs – even commercial machines in laundromats often can’t kill bed bug eggs, leading them to be transferred between customers…”
“Oh, god Spencer, that’s really not making me feel better!”
“No! I just mean… I have in-unit, for that reason. Disinfected regularly.”
You looked at him, bemused, the warm food in your lap forgotten. He paused, and met your eyes, a lock of hair falling over his face. He brushed it back.
“Oh! I meant, I wasn’t bragging about my washer being clean. Uh, you’re welcome to use mine, if you’d rather.”
It was the strangest thing that had ever made your heart clench with fondness. He was still blushing, clearly afraid he’d said the wrong thing, done something weird again. It was your first instinct not to bother him, but at the innocent look in his wide, brown eyes, you found yourself accepting.
“That would be amazing, if you wouldn’t mind, Spencer. Be warned, I’ve got a lot of laundry to do, you can kick me out anytime you get sick of me,” you teased.
“I know, from all the travelling. You’re wearing clothes you never normally wear, presumably because all your favourites need washing.”
You stared at him, processing for a moment. You could see his finger tapping against the side of his thigh, the smile he was trying to hide.
“You can stay as long as you like,” he clarified.
“Maybe we can watch a boxset or something, if you like?”
The raise of his eyebrows was enough to make you laugh, and he quickly looked away, taking another mouthful of rice.
“Doctor Who?”
There was nothing you wouldn’t have watched with Spencer, as you woke up the next morning blessedly free of work calls and lazily made your way to his apartment with two suitcases full of washing and a huge bags of Skittles for Reid. He’d surprised you with a made lunch, and with a freshly cleaned washer and dryer. Despite the way he made himself scarce when you pulled out underwear and bundled it into his washing machine, two hours later, he was brave enough to sneak an arm around your shoulder.
You sank your face to his chest, and listened to the pounding of his heart. By the time Christopher Eccleston had met his first Dalek, you knew a lot of your future  would be spent on this couch.
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007reid · 6 months
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hi aine! i love how you write spencer sooo much so i have a short request
i would looove sub/virgin spence where he’s been touch starved so he’s really sensitive and whiny but reader praises him and guides him through it
-🌹
hi rose 🌹 for one of my favorite asks ive ever gotten, i did a horrible job on this one so im so sorry ml 💔and sorry for the wait too...hope this is somewhat worth it😭enjoooyy!!
virgin. spencer reid
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pairing: sub virgin!spencer reid x experienced fem!reader. 1k
summary: exactly what the req says
warnings: whining, loss of virginity, riding, creampie, nun too extravagant. yu like the picture?😏😏
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"y/n...y/n!" spencer's crying, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but he's moaning, humming his whines into your neck.
"easy, baby boy," you croon, slipping out of him and slowly lowering yourself on his cock again. spencer's pawing at you desperately, like he's never felt such a thing before.
it's because he hasn't. it’s exciting, being in a relationship with spencer; it’s exciting touching him and seeing him jump or freeze and then melt into your touch. he’s pristine, like a shiny trophy, untouched—touch starved and so unfamiliar to the idea of physical touch or intimacy.
"'s too much," he whimpers pathetically, voice halfway stuck in his throat. "can't, can't--"
"relax, spence," you murmur, pushing back the pieces of hair, damp with sweat from his face. spencer's eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed like he's in pain or he's deep thought. you're not to sure which one. your hips continue snapping into his. "look at me baby." it takes a while, but spencer slowly peels his eyes open. they're glossy and his eyelashes are wet, and you're listening out for the word from him to stop but it never comes.
"y/n--" he gasps, right as your pussy clenches tightly around him. his eyes close again. spencer's breathing heavily, little hng, hng, hng's falling out his puffy lips. the sloppy sound of skin slapping against skin and spencer's whines and your quiet moans and the smell of sex clouds the room.
"you're okay," you reassure him, voice shaky trying to soothe spencer's nerves while trying to soothe your own. spencer's big and he practically splits you in half, the tip hitting the little button inside you that makes you want to scream without any maneuvering. he's not even trying, propped up against the bedpost as you ride him, hands pliant at your hips, the little slick of your wetness every time you lift yourself from him absolutely filthy. you lift his chin and he falls forward, planting a miss-aimed kiss at your jaw.
"you feel so good," he bambles. "so warm. i love you. feels so good but so much y/n, i--" he moans, cock pulsating inside you. his thumb flicks at your perky nipples.
"'m so full of you," you say, burying your face in his hair and wrapping your arms around him, trying to get as close as possible. "fuck. make me feel so good. my best boy,"
"best boy," spencer repeats eagerly with a soft little hitch of his voice. the tears resume. "y/n i can't it hurts, stomach hurts y/n please--"
you immediately know what he meant, and fasten your pace, hands on the base of his cock to make sure he won't slip out of you. spencer slides into you easily, your pussy stretched and wet for him and his fingers dig deep into both sides of your waist. spencer's moans cease and his hips starts bucking up to you, arms wrapping around your torso and he wouldn't stop talking. "gonna, think im gonna cum, yn please dont stop it feels so good, fuck!"
"cum in me," you coo, feeling that familiar buzz at the pit of your stomach too. "you got it. cum in me spence, so good for me, such a good boy,"
spencer's sobbing as he cums, warmness blooming at your core as he unloads his cum inside you. you follow suit, pressing at the sensitive nerves bundles at your clit, thighs shaking from the weight of your orgasm. spencer's shaking too, tears shiny on his rosy cheeks and you ride the both of you off your orgasms, the sweat on your skin cooling.
spencer's cum leaks outside the puffy walls of your pussy and down your ass when you pull off of him, pressing yourself at spencer's side and curling your body towards him. his chest is rising and his lips are parted. you watch your boy carefully, how his eyelids starts drooping as his breathing mellowed out. you should've saw it coming that spencer reid is the kind of man to get sleepy after sex.
but you've known him for long enough to know that spencer's mind never stops running, not when he's sleepy, not when he's asleep, not ever. "penny for your thoughts?"
he turn to you, smile debauched and eyes like marbles. he throws the sheets over the both of you and find your hand underneath the blanket, bringing it to his lips. "'m so grateful for you yn," he whispers like he's telling a secret. you strain your ear to listen. "so grateful. luckiest man alive. i love you. love you," spencer takes a long blink, and you know he's drifting off. you smile widely, so endeared. he weaves your fingers together. "i'll make it up to you. swear. after this. i swear."
spencer never speaks in choppy sentences, never speaks unless he's got the entire sentence planned out in his head and now he's babbling on like someone whose speech he would correct. amused, you reach out, smoothing down his hair with gentle fingers. "sleep, spencer," you say affectionately. he never needs to be told twice either, apparently, because his eyes flutter shut and he's out like a light, but fingers still tightly intertwined in yours underneath your blanket.
you'll just have to wash the sheets tomorrow.
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folklorefairyy · 1 month
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the hold that spencer reid has over me <3
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bookshelf-dust · 4 months
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HI NOT TO SAY I FORGOT ABOUT YOU BUT LAST WEEK WAS FINALS AND THIS WEEK I MOVED AND I WAS SICK AND TWO-THREE WEEKS AGO IT WAS BOY DRAMA (total drama) AND I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU
hey, baby love!! that’s alright, i promise. you never have to check up on me! especially when you’re a busy bee. i hope you’re feeling okay about all that! i should’ve checked up on you, but i’ve been awful at that lately. anyway, don’t apologize! i love you sooo much ♥️♥️♥️
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inkluvs · 6 months
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still they are so <33 crocheted stuffed animals have a special place in my heart <3 i wanna make a stuffed whale or a bee with that really bulky & fuzzy yarn
ur so real omg u should make a whale!!!
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luvingspence · 1 year
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𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩
early seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader
spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3
also spot the taylor swift and twilight reference girlies! and apologies for how cheesy this is, it’s very rushed bc exams so it isn’t proofread :(
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
His apartment felt different now that she was here. There was more colour, her pink slippers were next to his, she now kept tulips in a lovely patterned vase in the kitchen, and there was now a thrifted clothing rack in the corner of their shared bedroom for the clothes that refused to fit in the large oak wardrobe.
The atmosphere felt altered too. The candles she burned smelled warm, he now couldn’t wait to come home, compared to how he used to feel. Knowing he would be coming home to an apartment that wasn’t empty and lonely filled him with a feeling that was almost indescribable. It was like having butterflies in his stomach, but all so much more than that. Something in his chest blossomed and happiness spread to every corner of his body when he saw her perched on the sofa with her fingers skimming the pages of one of his books, or when he saw her in one of his sweaters with the most adorable frilly apron around her waist when baking in the kitchen.
Though, today was an unusual day off. By some miracle, Hotch had managed to convince Strauss to get another team on-call for the coming week. After three back-to-back cases, all lasting a week long, Aaron knew his team needed to sleep in their own beds.
So there he was, in thick, odd socks many sizes too big for him, a green cable knit sweater, and grey plaid-pyjama trousers on his sofa watching re-runs and more re-runs, waiting for his girlfriend to come home. It felt strange to be the one at home for once, but it was pleasant.
“Spence, honey.” Manicured fingers carded through his long-ish hair, he jumped. She giggled.
“Sorry, you looked like you were about to doze off there,” She circled around from the back of the sofa and sat next to him, thighs touching and arms now tangled together, “guess you didn’t hear me come in, huh?”
“Guess not.” He bashfully winced, embarrassed by his skittishness.
“How was your day off then, genius?” Whilst inquiring about his day she pulled a blanket that Penelope had bought Spencer off from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them.
“Good, it was good.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and cuddled closer. “It was going to read today but I just watched Doctor Who re-runs, I don’t get to do that often.”
“Sounds good, honey.” Y/n smiled softly and kissed his forehead, “you of all people need a lazy day every now and then.”
Spencer silently nodded and slide further down the sofa so he could rest his sofa against her chest. He felt something cold and metallic against his chest. A curious hum escaped his lips. “What’s wrong, honey?”
He sat up straight, now looking down at his sweet girlfriend. He brought his hand to her chest and fingered at the new metal handing from her neck.
It was a cute little golden locket. It looked to be vintage. It was oval in shape and had floral patterns and vines creating a lovely botanic boarder around the locket.
“This new?” He mumbled, still twirling the locket between nimble fingers.
“Oh this?” Y/n softly smiled down and wrapped a gentle hand around Spencer’s wrist while he played with the chain, “Yeah, it’s new. I saw it in a little vintage shop when I was out with Penny last week. It’s cute, right?”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” It did look adorable. It fell neatly just below her collarbones. It was a very her necklace. He imagined it would look well with all of her clothes, especially the sundresses and lacy tanks she loved so much. “It’s very pretty. You look very pretty.”
“You’re the sweetest, Spence.” She grinned widely. She ducked her head and laid chaste pecks along his neck before resuming their cuddling. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He pulled her close and ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his fingers touched her so gently it felt like he was barely there. It was a sweet, rare moment of uninterrupted peace for the couple.
Spencer though, his brain was still whirring. Why hadn’t he noticed the locket this past week? It was more than unusual for him to not notice something new about Y/n. Maybe he should ask.
“Have you been wearing this all week?” She shook her head.
“No, it’s a locket! I didn’t want to wear it empty.” She giggled, she removed her head from it’s place on her boyfriends shoulder and fiddled with the locket’s opening.
“Did you put a picture of Taylor Swift or that other singer you like in there?” He chuckled.
“Lana Del Rey?” She corrected, “and honestly, I thought about it, but no.” She glanced up at him and smiled, he noticed a flustered expression on her face.
Once she got the locket open, he saw it. In a heart shapes frame inside the pretty locket, was an even prettier picture of the two of them. How she managed to get a photo small enough of the two of them to fit inside the locket, he was clueless.
“It’s us?” His voice became quiet, his pink lips formed a small pout.
The picture was simple, they had been out with friends in the summer. He was casual attire, which was a very rare occurrence, ordinary black trousers and a beige cable-knit sweater with his usual converse. Y/n was a sight to behold, however. Perched on his lap comfortably in adorable sandal-wedges and a sweet white sundress, she was planting a loving kiss on Spencer’s cheek while he grinned at the camera.
“Of course it’s us,” She looked down as if she had a reason to be embarrassed, “I know it’s cheesy but, I just… I don’t know. I love you. Like, a lot.”
He was for once, speechless.
He suddenly felt like the young, timid, and perpetually awkward twelve year old version of himself with too-long hair and glasses a little too big for the bridge of his nose. Never, and he could not stress the never enough, had he thought that would find someone who cared and loved for him in such a pure, wholesome, unabashed way.
“I love you.” He quickly said. He had never been more sure of anything.
She cooed, obviously enamoured with the man before her. “I know you do, Spence.”
“No, I mean,” He took a shaky breath, “I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Loving you and being loved by you has made me feel a form of happiness I never thought possible for a person like me. Before I experienced this, love, I thought it would be simple, black and white, but it’s so golden. You’re my golden.”
He’d lifted her hand to his mouth and gingerly placed a teary kiss on the back of her palm. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.
He’d never let her go if she’d let him.
“Spence, honey,” She sniffled. Making her cry hadn’t been his intention, obviously, but he assumes that from her giddy smile and softened gaze that they were tears of happiness, of love, of all things good. “I’m golden?”
He only nodded, but that was all she needed.
“You’re my golden too, Spencer.”
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liagazed · 1 year
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UR THEME BITCH.
MY THEME BITCH.
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