[summary] as a plant-obsessed person, you find it intriguing and take it upon yourself to finally strike a conversation with the man living across from you--when you spot him bringing in a couple of plants into his apartment.
[pairing] spencer reid + gn!reader
[warnings] implications of maeve and spencer's depression, please let me know if there's anything else
[category] fluff with angst, hurt/comfort, strangers, pining
[word count] 3.7k
[a/n] i'll leave another author's note at the end, but just a few mentions; this concept came to me when someone suggested the headcanon that spencer has houseplants. but i don't know where it even came from if it was in my ask or in my taglist, so if it's you, please let me know! this is the longest i've written and one that has so much meaning behind everything, so i'm very very proud of myself for this. thank you to @reidselle for being such a kind beta, and of course to @writer-in-theory and @angstyalex for listening to me talk about this and hyping me up <33
you may need to change the song faster/slower depending on your reading speed, but this really completes the reading experience :)
you could hear inconsistent thudding, dragging against the floor, and the huffs and pants of a man out in the hallway. nosily, you took one look through the peephole, finding your curly-haired neighbor entering the door across from yours, dragging three pots of plants behind him—the view blurring into a cloud of green and light.
you never met the neighbor across from you.
you only heard his door opening and closing at the oddest of hours and the constant shuffle of the feet of people delivering food to his doorstep. that was really about it.
so to see him dragging large potted plants into his apartment, you couldn’t help but laugh, especially when you stared at your living room, which was bursting with color and life. croton, dracaena, and golden pothos stuck out of a corner, crawling towards the window where the light perfectly streamed in, feeding all of the plants scattered around the room.
plant obsession was an understatement.
anyways, the mystery of the man across was rather fascinating. you knew he was an fbi agent, as told by your gossip-y landlord. your landlord did also mention that he was rather nerdy, but in a cute way. (you didn’t know how to take that statement, because she was fairly old.) you pondered at the thought of him, the mystery intriguing you. maybe the plants were a sign from the universe to finally say hi; get to know him a little bit.
you tiptoed around the living room, being careful not to step on overflowing leaves or slip on any fallen petal. you needed to find the right one to give, to send the right message.
ah, there it is.
you picked up the little white pot and checked the plant, making sure it looked neat enough to give. picking up some scratch paper, you scribbled a kind note.
saw you’re giving plants a shot. i’m not a stalker, i promise.
try this one out, it’s pretty low-maintenance and just very easy to have around.
yours truly, a fellow plant-obsessed neighbor in 204 :)
you read and reread the piece of paper, flicking the corner until it accidentally creased, and finally took a breath. you peered outside, checking if anyone was around, and approached his door. you left the note tucked under the small pot, and slipped right back into your apartment. you checked through the peephole, curious; a part of you wanting to watch his reaction as he found your offering. you rolled your eyes and stepped away, not wanting to obsess over it.
and as soon as you did, spencer opened his door, looking down and finding your thoughtful gift. he smiled to himself as he quickly read and reread, his eyes sprinting through the words. he looked up at the same brown door he’s looked at every morning and night, and imagined an apartment protruding with green and pink and yellows, the small space invaded by dozens of plants. and he looked back down at the plant you gave, it fitting snugly in his hands, and he held in laughter. it was the perfect plant to start off with, the perfect beginner’s introduction to houseplants.
spencer returned into his apartment, looking at the three, very daunting plants facing him. there was a clear disparity from what he had just received, the succulent looking at him so innocently. he held in laughter and sat down, bringing out books from his satchel, freshly borrowed from a library. he flipped the pages, bookmarking information on each of the plants he bought, and the one that was gifted. he looked once more at the door, thinking of a way to thank his neighbor.
the next time you did exit your apartment, you were greeted by an envelope at your doorstep. you found scratchy, inconsistent, handwriting on a piece of coffee-tinted stationary.
thank you for the succulent! i owe you a plant in return.
if you could help me figure out this whole houseplant thing, i’d be eternally grateful.
best, spencer reid, the guy from 203
you giggled, now knowing his name. you repeated it internally, whispering it, pronouncing each of the consonants as crisply as you could.
it rolled off your tongue so easily, you found yourself reiterating it involuntarily. you zoned out, replaying the pronunciation, to the point saying it once more would elicit laughter.
you didn’t think much of it again other than the instances you saw his letter attached to your refrigerator. he seemed like a very friendly man, but he definitely was not around enough for you to ‘accidentally’ bump into him. you did try—you waited to hear a sound come from his door, and timed yourself to take out your trash at that time (even if it wasn’t full yet). but, his door was silent, the man behind it even moreso.
and then, you found a pot of beautiful ponytail palm at your feet one morning. your eyes lit up, its thin, curly, stringy leaves sticking out, tickling your legs as soon as you opened your door. of course, another note was attached.
i read that this is an easy to grow plant, as long as it’s in a warm bright spot.
you’ll probably find that easy to come by :)
best, spencer reid
the ponytail palm was one you used to own. it was rugged, but truly speaking, so easy to take care of. it didn’t ask for much. just sunlight and a small amount of water. it grew slowly but steadily.
you brought it in, placing it next to the majesty palm by the window. you sighed, thinking about mysterious 203, about how he had the time to buy you a plant in return, but for some reason you never saw him. you collapsed on the couch, looking at all of the plants decorating your apartment, its life and color filling the secret, well-kept void.
as time went by, more plants were exchanged with spencer reid. along with notes, of course.
you gave him asparagus fern—letting him know that it was a plant that withstood abuse much better than typical ferns. it wasn’t as fragile, it could be in both light and dark corners.
he responded with albuca frizzle sizzle. it was a quirky, curly plant. his note was even quirkier; “only bought it cause it looked different.”
more palms, philodendrons, snake plants, pothos, aloe, and ivy alternately graced both of your doorsteps, filling your apartment with more life than you expected to ever fill it.
it was an extra dent in your monthly budget, but it was too much fun, looking forward to seeing what he would give in return.
and reading his notes was another thing to look forward to, too. never failing to make your week, the notes detailed research on the plant he dropped off, sometimes giving you updates on the previous plants you gave him. it was a joy to read; you’d plop on the couch and read and reread it, sometimes running your fingers over the indentation the ballpen had left on the delicate paper. you thought about how he had touched it, how he had likely scanned his eyes over the paper again and again before finally leaving it in front of your door.
did he want to stay hidden?
you were technically in correspondence for weeks now, but you couldn’t help but think about what he looked like. you had only really seen the back of his curly head of hair, your brain creating puzzle pieces to fill in the idea of a person.
and then, another puzzle piece had fit in.
“hello?” you answered, your voice treading gently.
“hi,” the voice was kind, nervous, almost. “i got your phone number from the landlord, i hope that’s okay.”
“i’m sorry, who is this?”
“right! uh-this is spencer, spencer reid.”
there was a relief in knowing that the name you had been reading for months was now a voice. hearing him say his own name after being confined to reading it for months was as satisfying as an exhalation after a long hold. this voice. this sweet, kind voice. it was him.
you replayed the image of the man with curly hair entering his apartment carrying plants in, and overlaid the voice on the phone.
“oh, yes, hello!” you tried not to sound too excited.
“it’s nice to finally hear your voice,” he chuckled.
“oh, you too, you have no idea. um, what’s up, is everything okay?”
“yeah, great, actually. i just hope this isn’t too much to ask—” his voice wavered.
you were eager to meet him. “not at all! how can i help?”
“i’m going to be gone for about a week and a half for work and to visit family, and i was wondering if you could possibly water my plants while i’m out?”
you held the jaw-drop in, and calmly said, “oh, sure!”
you weren’t going to meet him, unfortunately.
“really? thank you so much, i seriously owe you a huge favor after this. i’ll leave another plant out for you, and the key will be in the planter.”
you nodded, a little disappointed, wanting a face-to-face handoff. “sure, no problem.”
“great, i’ll drop it when i can. thanks again!” he quickly hung up.
you slumped onto the couch, releasing an exasperated sigh.
was everything just in your head?
regardless, you kept your promise.
you picked up the key he left behind, and the note that had his scribbled instructions. his handwriting was just as scratchy, but you were used to it. the words went through your eyes, and you instead focused on the person who wrote it. his letters were kept on the coffee table, for when you were bored and curious, hoping to find remnants of his soul weaved into his writing. you just yearned to know him.
you put the key in, a distinct and successful click ringing in the hallway. as the door swung open, you were greeted by an apartment that was littered with things that were so distinctly him. a chess set, a few framed artworks on the walls, and books. more books than a man needed to have. the browns of the space were distinct from the green life pouring into the room. there were large palms, pothos, ferns, and perennials growing in all directions. it was almost like a completely different person had suddenly moved in.
you followed his instructions, finding a small and simple water can by the kitchen sink. you moved around the apartment systematically, watering each of the planters. you tried not to snoop, but you couldn’t help it. you looked at his books on the shelves, noting the broad range of his interests; from mathematics and physics in molecular biology, to sci-fi literature. although some books looked barely touched due to their smooth spines, you noticed that the pages had already browned at its edges. there wasn’t an order to his bookshelf that you could find or figure out, either. more questions swam in your mind; your puzzle becoming more complex by the minute.
this went on for days. as you consistently let yourself into his apartment, you saw more of his quirks, and scrutinized every bit of it—grasping at straws, desperate to understand the man you felt so connected to. most of the plants that filled the room were the ones you had given him, and they were kept exceptionally well. the plants only helped create an atmosphere that made you feel so easily at home. on some days, you found yourself entering early, or ‘checking on the plants’ even though they had no reason to be checked.
because even if you barely knew spencer reid, a part of you found yourself connected to his soul—even if they were only pieces.
you found yourself getting carried away rather frequently, because his apartment felt like an extension of yours. you would admire his side of the view, running your fingers through the spines of the books on the bookshelves, feeling the fluff of the rug under your feet, looking at the yellow of the bulbs in his lights. you pictured spencer reid living here. it was another puzzle piece assumed into the idea of this man.
and your puzzle was nearly complete.
it was the last day you had to water his plants, and you entered and followed your routine. classical music played into your ears, so when you zoned back in, ready to walk out the door, you were startled by the frame of a man in the apartment.
“oh!” you exclaimed.
the man’s eyebrows were raised, shock and joy painted on his face.
“spencer reid.” even after practicing saying his name, there was still a disconnect and something unreal about finally saying it in front of him.
“204.” he smiled.
“i was just watering your plants.” you notioned to the greenery behind you.
“right.” he said aptly.
while no words could be exchanged, the atmosphere around the two of you spoke the only word necessary.
spencer admired how casually beautiful you looked. your hair was untidy, going in different directions. you looked comfortable in your sweatpants and slippers, tangled earphones trailing into your pocket. you thought about how this wasn’t the state you wanted to be in for a first impression, but he didn’t want to see you any other way. you looked so real. so raw. and undeniably beautiful.
when you looked at spencer, everything fell into place. the handwriting, his voice, the quirks of the apartment, it all perfectly fit him. his hair fell in all the right angles, framing his face. god, his face. his cheekbones stuck out, leading you to his eyes. they were so clearly tired, but as he looked at you, a spark crossed behind them, the first in a while.
as both of you noticed the other was staring, the searing eye contact was broken to hide the pink forming on your faces. you felt embarrassed, needing to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.
you shifted where you stood and said, “well, they’re watered.”
spencer offered a shy smile and a light nod, and you took that as the signal to quietly leave.
you held your smirk in as you left, but once you reached the doorway, your stomach lurched.
you needed to say something. you’ve been waiting months to finally meet him, to finally see him.
“actually—” you pivoted on your heel.
“yes?” he responded quickly, his face hopeful.
“well, uh, only if you’re interested, of course,” you nervously rubbed your arm, “would you like to see my collection?”
“of plants?” he clarified.
“uh, yes-?” you tried to smile through the awkwardness.
“i’d love to!” he grinned.
your knees were going to buckle at his smile, but you stood and led him into your apartment. you could feel him behind you, and there was something about him being so near that made you nervous. as you swung the door open, spencer’s eyes widened at all of the plants scattered throughout the space. his eyes darted from left to right, up to down, scanning the whole room, logging each of the species into his brain.
“a bit much?” you asked him, tension lifting itself from your shoulders.
“oh not at all, it’s lovely.” he was still looking around the room, and at that point, spencer could memorise the placement of every item in the apartment.
“my mom says it’s a bit much.” you said, trying to track his eyes and see what he was looking at.
“i don’t think so, it fills up the space. someone to live in the place while you’re out.”
“oh, absolutely,” you smiled. “call me crazy, but i do talk to my plants. supposedly it can help them grow.”
he was looking directly at you now, a smile on his face. “oh yeah? and how are they?”
“oh, fantastic conversationalists.” you smiled back.
you both chuckled and the room had brightened.
spencer sat down, making himself comfortable, and you introduced him to each of your plants—how you got them, why you got them, which was difficult to care for, which was the easiest. for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel out of place as you rambled about your plants. he sat and smiled, nodding, and asked questions, too. your heart warmed, never really meeting someone who would listen to you talk about it all.
and just when you wanted to ask him out to a different setting—his phone rang.
“sorry, i need to take this.” he gave an upset smile.
he spoke into his phone seriously, saying nothing but ‘yes’ and ‘i’ll be there’.
you looked down at the floor, already knowing what that meant.
“work, huh?” you asked once he put his phone away.
“yeah, i’m sorry.” he rubbed the back of his head. “but hey, it was great to finally meet you!” he smiled.
you handed him the key, but he shook his head.
“no, keep it. for emergencies.” his dimples were evident.
that was around a month ago.
you haven’t seen him since. he disappeared just as quickly as he had suddenly came to existence—as he had proved he was real. on some days you would wait for a sound in the hallway, running to your door to look through the peephole. was it foolish to keep hope?
your apartment was in slight ruin. leaves of your long-kept plants looked upset, wilting towards the ground. the sun remained hidden behind closed curtains and the wind never gushed through.
you had even left him a plant. it still sat on his doorstep. it was the only plant you would water everyday, in the hopes that maybe, he would bring it in. but it sat there, slowly losing its life and color. but, after a week, the plant wasn’t alone. baskets and offerings filled the cramped hallway with the smell of freshly-baked goods and fruit. you never caught who had left them.
your ears were tuned out at this point—numb to every sound that crossed the hallway. so when you exited, finding two blondes at his door, you were a flurry of emotions.
“excuse me-is everything okay? can i help you?” you peeked to see their faces.
both turned around to look at you. one’s face looked defensive, the other’s sympathetic.
“i’m sorry, who are you?” one asked.
“i-” you stammered to find the right label. friend? neighbor? occasional conversationalist? plant-waterer? “he’s a friend. i don’t even know if he’s home, i haven’t seen him in so long.”
“oh, he’s home alright.” the other remarked. “we’re his friends. from work.” she offered a slight smile.
“have you been leaving the baskets?” you asked.
“oh, that’d be me! i’m penelope, it’s nice to meet you.”
you shook her hand, introducing yourself. the other friend introduced herself as well, a simple “i’m jj.”
you contemplated but debated towards it. “has something happened to him?” you bit the inside of your cheek, your worry coming to the surface.
jj and penelope looked at each other, and penelope gave a look that read as ‘you might as well’.
“he’s lost someone close to him. a girlfriend, kind of.” jj hesitated.
your hearing became numb as penelope gave you a polite smile, and jj moved to knock on spencer’s door. you retreated into your apartment, everything blurring—was that from tears or exhaustion? you closed the door behind you, back leaning against it, hearing penelope and jj’s footsteps fade away. you held your head in your hands, your hands shaking, lips trembling, skin turning cold. everything you had held in at this point came out in waves of pain and anger.
your vision returned when your tears had dried, your body aching from being on the floor. you wanted to make things right. he needed a friend right now, you knew that much.
he didn’t owe you anything. so what you were going to do was out of the absolute urge to take care of him. call it love, call it friendship, call it whatever you want. but it was the decent thing to do.
you took the key kept in the box with all of his letters, and without another thought, went to his apartment door. you turned the key in the keyhole, and although the hallway was deserted, his apartment was even quieter.
the silence was insulated by the presence of plants, but the life in the room had clearly slipped away.
you found spencer on the couch, exhaustion painted all over his body. while he slept, his body was tense, clutching a book into his chest. you held your tears back.
you quietly watered the plants, checking on each of them. you picked up the books on the floor, placing them into neat piles by the corner. there was no attempting placing them on the bookshelf, so the corner would have to suffice. you cleaned the dishes as softly as you could, and brought penelope’s baskets in. unwrapping them so gently for the cellophane to not make a single sound. you sorted the food into the refrigerator.
and when the apartment started to look like itself again, you went over to spencer’s body on the couch. his body hadn’t relaxed one bit, eyes still shut tight, like he was afraid to open them and face reality.
you crouched down to his level, watching his pretty face sleep.
you did what was decent, so now you could let yourself indulge in one small thing.
you inched towards him, hearing his hushed breathing. your heartbeat quickened as you noticed how close you were to him.
and you planted one small, light, kiss on his forehead.
spencer woke to the apartment in a condition better than he remembered. he tiredly went to his plants, touching the soil of the planters, feeling its moist texture under his fingers. he looked at the corner where the books had been moved, but his brain was too worn out for him to feel any bit of concern. a part of him knew it was you. by some miracle, it was you.
he looked at the door, and thought about thanking you.
he slowly opened it, his eyes adjusting to the fluorescent of the hallway.
when he looked down, it was your typical package—a note and an offering.
but there was no plant facing him.
instead, it was a packet of seeds.
he bent down to pick up your note and read it. he read your note, the same relief rushing over him that always did when it came to you.
seven words in your handwriting.
“life is more than living, it’s growing.”
longer a/n: not to toot my own horn but DID YOU CATCH THE PLANT SYMBOLISMS??? DID U LIKE THE PLAYLIST?? I'M SORRY I'M JUST TOO EXCITED AND HAPPY WITH THIS FIC IM NOT GONNA STOP ABT THIS. I READ THIS BACK AND WAS LITERALLY LIKE ?? DID I WRITE THIS TF ? anyways i hope you liked it sorry you had to hear me gush like this i probably wont shut up about this one for a while
tell me what you thought
join my taglist
@literaila @simonsnowsblog @pretty-boys-book-club @writer-in-theory @reidsmilf @foxy-eva @sheslostinbooks @reidsbookclub @angstyalex @spencerreidat3am @shooting-a-star-at-the-moon
@belongwithreid @lil-stark @fightingdragonswithreid
@hoshihiime @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @cynbx @reidactually @reidsonlyangel @the-chaotic-cow @justreadingficsdontmindme @writingquillsandpainpills @sadgirlml @nomajdetective @lilacprentiss
NOTE: if you are tagged, i do expect some sort of interaction with my fic (reblogs preferred) because the taglist is an extra step for me. after this week, i will start sorting out my taglist (this doesn't apply if you're newly signed up). if you'd like to be removed, or be part of a specific taglist only, please let me know, it's no biggie!
The Public Eye
Summary: Spencer gets closer to a famous actress, discovering they're incredibly similar and she really likes him
reader is the famous actress that reid kisses in the pool instead of lila archer with s/8 spence, and the team teases him ofc but he thinks nothing of it, but later in an interview she says he’s the best kiss she’s ever had and penelope (bc who else would be up to date on pop culture hotch? LMAO) is ecstatic and shows it to him
A/n: I went for season 8 Spencer because he deserved some of the happiness the CM writers refused to give him,but this isn't a direct rewriting of the plot in 1x18
Also, there is a part two coming
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: stalking | being held at gun point | discussion about the dark side of Hollywood (disordered eating, racism, sexism)
Word Count: 8.6k how ? idk and i'm sorry
When the first few murders happened in LA, Y/n was slightly concerned. Of course, crime had never been uncommon in the city, but the people being viciously killed were her fellow celebrities, people she'd brushed shoulders with at the Oscars or Golden Globes. Usually, she only heard about burglaries in their neighborhoods.
The terror sunk in when the notes started coming in. The threatening content caused enough grave concern for her manager to be dragging her to the police station. She was worried for her safety, but there wasn't any way she would get a reputation of being noncommital.
When the police detective introduced her to the BAU of the FBI, she didn't understand what part of her situation warranted that level of seriousness.
The team immediately recognized it had to be the same person. Especially when the note came right after the latest victim was found. They didn't wait to go and talk to the actress and her slightly irritating manager, Stephen.
Spencer didn't know much about pop culture or celebrities. Obviously, he figured they had to be attractive and appeal to the golden ratio. His expectations were exceeded an impossible level when he met Y/n L/n. So beautiful, in fact, that Spencer was considering watching some of the movies and TV shows she was in. If it wasn't unprofessional.
"It's only letters." Y/n tried to plead with the six agents and the high-ranking members of the LAPD. She turned to look at her manager, eyes begging him to side with her. Being put in protective custody wasn't something she could afford to do. "Seriously, I've had crazy fans before. Remember the guy that broke into my place and cooked me dinner." She reminded him and the police detective who had handled the case back then.
Spencer frowned at the anecdote, amazed it was something she could casually deal with. He'd seen it in other stalker cases, but somehow it hadn't occurred to him that famous people weren't always adored.
"Situations like this almost always turn violent if you don't comply to these demands," Spencer informed her of a part of their profile, reading over the note. "Especially since this person has already killed."
Y/n turned to him, frowning as she looked around the room like she was asking if Spencer was serious. She was dumbfounded, both by what he was saying, and his lack of bedside manner.
Her manager looked at her sternly. "This is just as serious as I told you it was, Cariño."
It wasn't easy news to process, but her initial reaction was stubbornness, giving everyone the allusion she was just like any other pretentious celebrity. "I'm not just going to bail on my commitments because of some creep." She firmly stated.
Morgan was looking increasingly irritated, picking up a headshot to show her. "Do you know who this is?" He asked her.
There was no confusion on her features, just annoyance, but at the photo, not the situation. "Of course, she's doing this. In the last week, she's done two interviews where all she did was drag my name." She told them, most definitely still irritated about it. "Girls supporting girls has not caught on in Hollywood." She scoffed, meeting JJ and Blake's eyes in the hope they'd relate.
Spencer knew what Morgan was about to do, and he wanted to stop him from sliding the photo to her because he could see a flicker of another emotion in her eyes. "She turned up dead this morning." He informed her.
Her eyes widened when she looked at the photo, jaw falling open. The color was draining from her face when she looked at the brutal wounds. It was, for lack of a better term, a bloodbath. The unsub's most vicious kill.
Guilty, she looked between Hotch and the police chief. "I-I didn't. I swear-" She stammered out, assuming that's what they were insinuating.
Alex placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't think that you did." She assured the younger girl, who finally looked like she could breathe again after hearing that.
"What am I meant to do?" Y/n asked, her eyes shifting to Hotch, who she could see was in authority.
"She needs to go to set today," Stephen informed Hotch like her life was worth less than his paycheck. She nodded anyway despite how scared she looked.
Hotch sighed, glancing at the police chief as he came up with a plan. He could see how persistent the two of them were. "Make sure they clear all the nonessential personal from the set, and Morgan and Reid will go with you." He instructed her manager before looking at the two younger male agents, who nodded. They caught the underlying meaning of studying her victimology. "Ms. L/n, we're going to have to comb through everything about your life. There will be officers around you all the time. It's likely you know who this person is."
Her face paled again, and she had an urge to be sick. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure if I can be of any help. I meet so many people each day." They always profiled before having suspects anyway.
While Y/n was handing all her information over, Hotch rounded up the team to go over their job. Spencer and Morgan, obviously, were going with her, Rossi to the latest crime scene, JJ was dealing with the media circus, Blake to the ME, and Hotch was running point from the precinct.
"Did you really have to show her the gruesome photos?" Spencer asked Morgan on the short walk to the SUV while the paparazzi clamored around them. The sun was almost too hot and the atmosphere too muggy for Spencer to be in a suit.
Slightly, he frowned, eyeing Spencer with suspicion, like he was trying to find out what he was thinking. "You're sweet on her." He spoke after a moment, with a teasing tone.
He tried to stop his eyes from bulging. "N-no, I'm not." His attempt to sound firm was futile. "A serial killer is stalking her. I just... feel bad for her, that's all."
"Mmhmm," Morgan commented, completely skeptical. "All I'm saying is she's pretty."
It was an understatement, and Spencer wasn't about to ruin his career, but if it was in a different universe, he'd be jealous of the fact she'd be interested in Morgan. Trying not to think about the hypothetical, he got in the passenger seat.
Morgan drove, getting directions from Y/n. He tried to engage her in some form of conversation and drag her attention away from her phone. "So, you like LA?"
She half scoffed, half chuckled, still scrolling on her screen. "Does anyone?"
He shrugged at that. "I saw your last movie. It was good." He complimented, causing her to look up at him.
"Thank you," Y/n replied, the second time Spencer had seen her genuine, even enthusiastic. "It was the first all-star, A list cast movie I've ever done. I remember being nervous the entire week before the first day." Spencer was taking in everything she was saying, profiling but also admiring.
"Your performance was incredible." The smile she gave Morgan was, as well. Spencer wished he'd seen it if it meant he got to see her smile like that. "You won an Oscar, right?"
She grinned even wider at that. "Best supporting actress and the movie won best picture." She replied, not in a boasting tone Spencer had expected from a celebrity. "I really wasn't sure what to say when I got up on stage because I definitely didn't think I'd win." Y/n continued, blushing when she replied she'd been rambling like she was scared of showing them her true personality. "It's in my bedroom if you wanna come see it." She offered, flashing him a flirty wink.
Morgan's reaction was what Spencer expected. The smirk Morgan was trying to hide was an expression he made at bars. "Who's your favorite person you've worked with?" He asked her, diverting the conversation to keep his professionalism.
She had already turned off her phone, gaze fixed on Morgan through the mirror. "Emma Watson." She answered without hesitation. "And, she knew who I was, so that was like a 'wow, I made it' moment. Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds are also fun, but I've only seen them at parties. Just as funny as they are on Instagram and Twitter." She realized she was doing it again, truthfully expressing herself, and stopped, getting out of the car once Morgan had parked without another word.
Two FBI agents acting as an entourage was not how she expected to arrive at set, but she didn't let it deter her from acting naturally. Her public, bubbly persona was something she wore like a shield. They trailed after her while she greeted everyone. Sociable, Spencer acknowledged, talking to everyone from the people putting food out on the buffet table to the producers.
Y/n turned back to them, clearly in her element. "You guys can have anything you want to eat or drink." She offered, spinning away from them when someone called her name.
It was a guy Spencer didn't recognize. Probably a celebrity since he wasn't wearing a shirt, muscles rivaling Morgan's. Spencer knew it was illogical, but it made him insecure. His brain went back to studying her victimology like he was meant to be doing.
The guy, who Morgan identified as her co-star, wrapped his arms around Y/n and lifted her up as he hugged her. "Brought some bodyguards today, princess?" He asked, reaching out to shake Morgan's hand with Y/n tucked under his other arm.
Spencer noticed her stiffen, but it was slight enough no one else did. "Yeah, something like that." She replied, pleading with the agents to not reveal her secret. They didn't even have a chance to before Y/n was being called to hair and make-up.
"I'll check her trailer, and you go with her," Morgan instructed, already stepping away like he knew Spencer would protest.
"What? Can't I go to the trailer?" Spencer challenged, feeling increasingly uncomfortable about being left alone with at least a hundred people on the film set. Profiling her trailer would be much less challenging, providing him with fewer possibilities to look like an idiot. Morgan turned to shake his head, already walking off. "Please, man?"
Spencer didn't get an answer before Morgan was gone, and he followed the direction Y/n went. He found her sitting in a swivel chair with her name on the back, dressed in a white robe.
"Hi." She waved when he came in, nodding at the seat next to her in a silent invitation to sit down. "Riley, this is Spencer. Spencer, Riley." Y/n introduced them. Spencer hadn't realized she knew his first name, but it sounded nice coming from her.
She shut her eyes when Riley put what Spencer thought was a pen on her eyelid. Intently, he watched as she drew perfect straight lines. She could sense he was looking at her, confirming her theory when she opened her eyes.
"You can ask me anything you need to in front of her," Y/n assured him with a smile. She could feel the nerves coming off him, noticing he was out of his comfort zone.
Spencer nodded, all of the questions he'd thought of asking her slipping out of his head. "D-did you know the beauty industry is valued at $527.4 billion a year?" He immediately blushed, already feeling like an idiot.
It wasn't exactly the question she was expecting. She could sense Riley chuckling at him warmly, but Y/n wouldn't have hesitated to kick her out if it was malicious.
"I didn't, but this set probably contributes half of that," Y/n answered, unknowingly reassuring him. "You're some kind of a genius, aren't you?"
Spencer could not contain the blush on his cheeks, hoping they'd think it was the weather. "I, uh, have a Ph.D. W-well, three." Apparently, it wasn't the answer Y/n or Riley had expected, from the way their eyes widened.
"Beauty and brains," Riley remarked to the actress, but Spencer caught it. His blushing only intensified when Y/n shot him a wink.
He tried to focus on the investigation, asking her questions about what she did each day so he could feed the information back to Penelope, who was digging through her life. He struggled to differentiate between her public eye character traits and her authentic personality.
"Spence, can I do your hair?" She asked him while she was having her hair done. His eyebrows furrowed together as he watched her snap the hair straightener together in her hands.
"And ruin those beautiful curls?" Riley commented, effortlessly twirling strands of Y/n's hair into perfect ringlets. Hearing people talk about him like that made him blush while his ego grew slightly.
Y/n was still grinning hopefully at him. He couldn't turn that down. "Uh, yeah, o-okay." Spencer agreed.
He turned around while Y/n adjusted her position, letting her clamp strands of his hair between the hot irons. It didn't take her very long to have his hair all straightened, running the end of a comb through it, so he had a middle part.
"Hey, pass me your phone." She requested, holding her hand out for Spencer to place his phone in.
Without thinking, he gave it to her, unlocked. There were secrets on the phone, but he was willing to do just about anything she asked. Y/n took a photo of his hair from the back. Before turning the camera around to hold it in front of his face. Using it as a mirror to show him the front view of his hair, she grinned as she looked into the lens, snapping a picture. Spencer always objected when Penelope tried to get him in her selfies, but he was sure he wouldn't be deleting the one she just took.
Y/n's fingers were still in his hair, gentle as she adjusted it. Spencer knew he shouldn't, but he liked being around her. Even if he was really just a bodyguard trying to figure out as much as he could about her because she was being obsessively stalked.
"I think it looks great." She told him when he spun back around to face her.
"Okay, you're done," Riley informed her, fluffing out her curls at the end.
Y/n looked at herself done up in the mirror for a moment. "Thank you. It looks amazing." She replied, flashing her friend an award-winning. Her phone buzzed on the dressing room table, and she picked it up to glance over the message. "No time to rest around here." She joked, getting up from her seat. Spencer followed, and they farewelled Riley before the tent.
Spencer insisted on walking her towards the wardrobe tent. Although the set was essential personnel only, it was still bustling with people. "If you, uh, n-need anything, I'll be... around." He assured her, awkwardly fiddling with his fingers.
"Thank you." Y/n sincerely replied, squeezing him on the arm before disappearing.
Spencer walked back across the set in search of Morgan. He found him stepping out of Y/n's trailer, his phone to his ear.
"Hey, baby girl, I'll call you back real quick," Morgan said as soon as his eyes locked on Spencer, or more specifically, his new hairdo. He walked to Spencer with a teasing smirk, shaking his head gently. "Pretty boy." He singsonged, clearly amused. "What happened to you?"
Spencer rolled his eyes, dodging Morgan's hand when it came to messy it. "She wanted to straighten it." He answered, trying to casually shrug it off. It only made Morgan chuckle. "It was for victimology!" He defended far too loudly, drawing the attention of some passersby.
"Garcia's collating information, so we'll have a file on her life when we get back," Morgan informed him, ignoring his reasoning. "So we're just sitting around here until she's done." His glance wasn't on Spencer. Instead, he was waving to three girls who were clearly talking about him as they walked past.
Figuring he'd make the most of her previous offer, Spencer went to the food tent. Thinking about the fact she had a stalker, he made sure he picked a bag of sealed chips. He and Morgan watched while they shot her scenes, one of which was Y/n kissing the guy she'd hugged when they first got there. Spencer could see how her hand slightly clenched like Y/n wasn't thrilled about the plot. Which was most likely why she insisted on retaking it twice with accompanying profuse apologies.
Once Y/n's scene was over, she made her way to Spencer and Morgan, talking to a few people along the way before pulling a seat over to sit next to them.
Casting a brief look around, she reached across to take some from the packet. "Thanks." She said, gently smiling at him. Spencer mirrored her smile, tipping the packet closer so she could have more if she wanted, while he purposefully ignored Morgan suspiciously eyeing the interaction.
Spencer was thankful he didn't have to give her an awkward reply when a young blonde came up to them. Someone Y/n closely knew, judging by how she jumped up to hug the girl.
"Ally!" She greeted her, turning back to Morgan and Spencer. "This is Spencer and Derek from the FBI. This is my PA." She informed them.
"Oh, about the stalker." Ally realized, eyeing Morgan up and down with a smirk. So she was close enough to Y/n to know what she was trying to keep secret. "Someone dropped these off at your trailer, maybe your on-screen, maybe off-screen romantic interest." She suggested with a smirk.
Faking enthusiasm, she took the teddy bear and box of fudge. Her excitement turned genuine when she read the label. "All the way from England! My favorite!" She cheered.
Morgan and Spencer shared a frantic look, springing up before she could do anything else. "Don't," Spencer said, shaking his head while Morgan took the box and bear out of her hands.
"Really?" Y/n exclaimed, looking irritated once again. Ally put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. Morgan was already on the phone with Hotch, getting the rest of the team there.
Only 15 minutes later, Y/n was in her trailer, with Morgan, Spencer, the police detective, Hotch, and Blake, desperately trying to calm herself down. Spencer noticed the odd looks they gave him at seeing his hair.
"We can's get a hold of Stephen at the moment, but Rossi's going to go see him once he's finished helping Garcia," Hotch filled them in. "And JJ's... busy." Understatement of the century.
Y/n brushed it off, knowing his schedule. "He's in a meeting, negotiating a New York Fashion Week contract for me." She told the group. "Can we read it now?" She questioned, looking at the letter still in Spencer's hand. It was in the fudge box, which was on the way to the lab for analysis.
Delicately opening the letter, Spencer read it. Then decided the extensive content was too violent to speak allowed. The silence tensioned the mood of the room as everyone's suspense grew.
"Blake." Spencer handed the letter, waiting for her reaction.
There were pictures, too. Of Y/n in the police precinct with the BAU. Even more troubling, photographs of Morgan and Spencer at set, labeling them as a threat.
She confirmed she was thinking the same thing with a direct nod, handing the letter over to Hotch. "The stalker's a woman." Even just from the number of adjectives.
Y/n clamped a hand over her mouth, the tears threatening to spill. It was all too real when she realized the stalker had been on set and potentially in her trailer. The thought made her sick to her stomach.
"Can I just read it? Please?" Y/n questioned, her emotions swaying between mad and sad.
"You don't want to do that." Spencer tenderly said, sitting down next to her on the couch. If he could have hugged her, he would. Hell, he would have done anything to make her smile.
With a frantic look, she turned to the agent she was closest to. "I can't put my life on hold until you catch whoever's doing this!" She vented, bouncing her knee up and down.
"Ms. L/n, I can assure you, we have our profile, and we will find this woman," Hotch assured her, restating the facts before dividing the team. "Reid, take her home. The rest of us will give the profile and run it against your acquaintances."
She opened her mouth to argue about the one scene she had left to shoot but stopped herself. After all, they were trying to protect her. It didn't mean she had to like it. "Okay, and thank you." She mumbled out.
The rest of them left the trailer, Hotch waiting back to slip Spencer a file on her. "Are you sure you don't want Morgan to do this?" Spencer asked, trying to keep his voice low while Y/n grabbed her things. "He'll actually be able to defend her."
"She needs someone she feels comfortable with who we know isn't involved, and from what I can see, that's you," Hotch told him, glancing at Y/n, who looked like fragile glass about to shatter.
Spencer frowned at the underlying message of the Unit Chief. "You think it's someone close to her?" He asked, worried about the effect it would have on her if one of the few people she seemed to be herself with was the stalker.
"We can't rule it out." Hotch reminded him.
"71% of stalking victims are stalked by someone they know and 27% by a stranger." Spencer justified his point before backpedaling. "But she's in the public eye, so I'm not sure the statistics can be interpreted the same way."
Hotch looked over Spencer's shoulder to see Y/n was almost ready. "They'll be officers outside. It's the safest place for her to be." He assured Spencer, leaving with the rest of the team when Y/n finished packing her things.
"So, you didn't want to be the one babysitting me?" She joked when they reached her car. A dark grey, two-door, convertible Ferrari with a red interior.
"I-it's not, uh, l-like that." He awkwardly defended himself, eliciting a giggle from Y/n, who clearly wasn't offended. "I can drive if you want." He suggested, hoping she'd turn him down.
Y/n softly stroked the door of the car. "Not my special Quicksilver." She joked, unlocking the car and getting in.
"You named your car?" Spencer asked, frowning slightly as he fumbled around to take his bag off and get in.
"Of course," Y/n replied like it was blatantly obvious. "Plus, it would be nice for me to do something myself." She said playfully, grinning at the other bag Spencer was holding. Hers. He was slightly apprehensive, not about her driving but because he knew how fast a car like that could potentially go.
She was a good driver, even in Los Angeles traffic. The 25-minute drive gave him enough time to read over her file Hotch had slipped him. But it was slightly uncomfortable with her being there.
"That's my entire life, isn't it?" Y/n asked, glancing over at him while she drove.
"Sorry. I just, uh, I have to." He cringed at the part of his job he hated, dealing with living victims.
Taking a left, she drove up a driveway Spencer wouldn't have known was there. "I just feel it should be thicker to summerize 27 years."
"The font size is small," Spencer explained, making her laugh even though it wasn't his intention. "I read really fast too."
"How fast?" She asked, unsure if he was serious.
Spencer wasn't sure he was ready to admit it, but she already knew how many PhDs he had. "20 000 words per minute."
She frowned to figure out if he was serious. "I don't know if I could read that many words in an hour."
"If you could, you'd be reading at 1.6x the lower end of the average 200 words per minute rate of an adult." Spencer rambled, about to say something else, when he stopped once the trees cleared. The house was impressive, but behind it, he could see the whole city in the distance. "Wow."
"Cool, right?" Y/n asked, parking the car near the garage. She wasn't deterred by the police cars there.
Stunned, Spencer nodded. The house was incredible as well. Luxurious, but not in an old-money rich type of way. It was minimalistic and modern. There were floor-to-ceiling windows along the entire bottom floor, and he could see the grand staircase in the entryway from outside.
He scrambled to get out of the car after her. "Your house is amazing." He complimented, following her to the front door.
"Thank you," Y/n replied, holding a key card up to the door panel like it was a hotel room. She opened the door and entered.
Inside, he could see all the way across the ground floor to the impressive view. The furniture didn't show much of a personality, all lavish and, Spencer was sure, expensive. He'd been in Rossi's mansion, but this was something else. The whole house was open-planned, with lots of squeaky clean glass. Technological too, by the complicated-looking control panels and automatic lights.
"You can put our stuff anywhere." She told him, watching the way he awkwardly stood there. Her statement contrasted the cleanliness of the mansion, where there was nothing was out of place.
Out of place himself, Spencer put his satchel and her bag on a chair at the kitchen island. It was like the rest of the house, with marble countertops and shiny floors.
Her attention was turned across the room when she heard paws against the floor. Spencer followed her gaze. "Buddy, hi!" She greeted the massive Saint Bernard, bending down to pat him. The dog nuzzled into her palm as she scratched around his head. She spun back to look at Spencer. "I promise I'm not a crazy dog-mom." She assured him.
"Dog mom?" Spencer questioned what he assumed to be a pop culture reference.
Upon speaking, the dog's attention was drawn to Spencer. He let out a low bark, suspicious of the new guest. "Hey, none of that," Y/n commanded. "This is a friend." Even though she was telling a dog that, Spencer smiled. "His name is Judge." She told Spencer. Suspiciously, Judge walked over to sniff the new guest, causing Spencer to step back. "Not a dog person?" She asked with a smile.
"Uh, I guess, but he's kind of big." Spencer froze as the dog sniffed him.
Y/n stoked his red-brown coat near his back while she spoke. "172 pounds." She informed him, grinning at her pet. Spencer reached down to pat his ears. "Someone abandoned him when he was just a little puppy. I've had him for 5 years now, and he has not stopped growing. He's kind of lazy, but Ally takes him out walking most mornings." She continued while they both petted the dog. Then her attention was elsewhere. "Do you want something to eat?" She offered. "I keep the good snacks by the pool."
Spencer followed her outside, looking around at the furniture before going past the big glass doors. The view of the city was even better out there. With trees lining the property, it almost felt like they were the only people in Bel Air.
There was an outdoor kitchen on the left side, with two bathrooms and a pool shed. Like a puppy, Spencer followed Y/n and Judge along side the pool's edge towards the kitchen.
She opened the mini-fridge to reveal drinks, jello, and ice cream in the freezer and a drawer to reveal chips, pretzels, cookies, and candy. "Gummy bears?" She suggested, giving him a packet.
"Can I have jello?" Spencer requested, causing her to grin at the fact he was relaxing a little. Before she could hand it to him, his phone started ringing. He checked the screen to see it was Hotch. "Sorry, I've got to take this." He apologized, stepping away so she couldn't hear the conversation. "Yeah, Hotch." He answered.
"Reid, her manager, Stephen, he's dead." Hotch filled him in. "Don't tell her yet."
Spencer frowned, spinning back to the happy-ish actress. "You want me to lie?" He returned.
"No, just don't tell her." Technically, a lie by omission. "The unsub is picking targets closer to her. Morgan, JJ, and Blake are on their way over to you. Make sure she's safe and don't do anything reckless." Spencer realized that was probably why he was sent there instead of Morgan.
"Hotch, this place has seven bedrooms and twelve bathrooms, and it's over 13000 square feet. She could easily already be here." Spencer whispered quietly, looking up at the second floor and realizing how easy it would be to be there without her knowing.
Although Spencer couldn't hear it, Hotch was concerned about the same thing. "Be prepared to talk her down then."
"Alright, bye." Spencer farewelled once Y/n walked over, plastering a smile back on his face.
"Sit," Y/n instructed, handing him the jello before sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the warm water. Spencer sat next to her, crossing his legs. "Did something happen?" She asked.
He gulped, well versed in hiding his lies. "No, I'm sorry." She drew her lips together, taking a handful of gummy bears. "Before, when Morgan asked if you liked Los Angeles, you didn't really answer."
"Are you looking for an answer now?" Y/n asked, waiting for a nod from him. "I like that." Her head turned to look at the sky glowing pink as the sunset.
"You're good at deflecting, too," Spencer observed, carefully eyeing her.
Instead of being mad, she smiled. "Thanks." She replied although she knew that wasn't the reply she wanted. "Do you ever feel like you're meant to adore your job? Just because everyone wants it." Her voice was quieter when she was being truthful.
Spencer knew how to reply to that. "Every second Wednesday of the month, they bring people in the academy or college students into the FBI to show them around. And they walk around our floor with dreams of being part of the team or the Bureau." He described, thinking back to last week. He realized he needed to open up if he wanted her to do the same thing. "I just lie when they ask me if this is the job I want to do."
"I've wanted to do this since I was 6," Y/n admitted.
"When you got played Dorothy in your elementary school's production of The Wizard of Oz?" Spencer cut her off to ask.
She turned to him with raised eyebrows. "You really know everything about me, don't you?"
"It was on the front page of your hometown's newspaper," Spencer informed her, thinking back to the contents of the manilla folder.
"My mom was so proud," Y/n said, smiling at the memory. The moment she decided, on stage with the spotlight on her. "I was so thrilled, just to be in the paper. Not the second time, though." She shook her head.
Spencer knew what she was talking about, 15-year-old Y/n on stage with jealous high school seniors while she had the lead. "You moved just after that." He recalled.
"Jet-set right into stardom." She dryly added. "I love this job, and I know I'm so fortunate." She prefaced while Spencer ate his jello, handing off her every word. It was nice, for once, to have someone to talk honestly to. "I was only 16 when I moved here, which is every 16-year-olds dream. And my mom was with me for a while, but this wasn't her home."
That wasn't exactly in her file. "You were here alone?"
"Sort of. I mean, you're never alone in LA." She answered, trying not to make it seem sad. "I loved it, and I still do, but I was kind of... groomed for this."
This was very clearly her. Not filtered for the public eye. "I know." He informed her, having noted the behavior. She frowned, not knowing how that was possible. "You flirted with Morgan when you spoke personally." He explained, Y/n cringing as he said it. "I know what it's like. I was 12 when I finished high school, and I left Las Vegas to come here and go to Cal Tech. I was 22 when I joined the BAU, and that's all I've done."
"What did you want to be as a kid?" She asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
"A magician," Spencer replied, beaming.
It was adorable. Without a doubt, Spencer had the prettiest smile Y/n had ever seen, and she couldn't help verbalizing it. "There's a lucky girl somewhere in DC." When his eyes snapped onto hers, she realized she might have said the wrong thing. "Or guy."
Spencer chuckled, shaking her head when he realized what she was saying. "No, there's not."
"There should be. You're a good listener." She absentmindedly commented, causing him to blush bright red nonetheless.
"It's more about listening to what's not being said," Spencer spoke. "The nonverbal communication. Like how there's something else you don't like about Hollywood."
How he could know, she wasn't sure. When she nodded to the food in front of them, it clicked in Spencer's brain; how she looked around at set before eating his food and the hidden fridge. "You've always got to look perfect." She mumbled. "I eat what I want, but Stephen is always pushing clean eating, even when I was 16, so it's easier if he doesn't know." Spencer hid his detectable reaction, and while it was sad he was dead, it didn't make him a good person.
"Why does he call you Cariño?" Spencer asked one of the things he still couldn't figure out while consciously using the incorrect verb.
She smiled slightly, showing their good bond. "It means-"
"Darling. It's Spanish." Spencer cut her off before she could continue. He worried she would take it the wrong way, but she laughed softly at him.
Y/n went on to explain it. "His real name's Esteban, but it's much harder to make it in LA with a name like that." Another thing that made her bitter towards the city. "So, what do you actually know about me? Or were we just hanging out today?"
Profiling people while they were there wasn't something Spencer liked, but he was confident in what he knew about her. Just because of their similarities. "I think that most people would assume you're extrinsically motivated, but they would be wrong. You've always been driven, which I know from how dedicated you were this morning about going to the set. I'd say you were a perfectionist" Y/n chuckled at her own stubbornness, but she could tell he knew what he was talking about. "People see it as self-importance because you're a celebrity, but you're extremely careful about your public image because you've never really felt like you belong." It made her slightly uncomfortable, feeling stripped from her carefully constructed qualities. "Private, too. No one knows just how much you donate to charity, and even your dog is a rescue. Your team manages most of your social media, and you try not to look at articles about yourself." Those were less of her dark secrets and more of her morals, something she wasn't ashamed he knew. "You don't trust too many people, although you appear warm towards everyone, again, because you're desperate for them to like you." There was the same uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, and she bit her lip as she tried not to cry. Spencer didn't notice enough to stop himself from continuing. "But I think you're lonely. When you're finished with award ceremonies, parties, or on set, you come back here, and you just feel empty." Spencer understood. He knew from the nights out with the team and trailing home to an empty apartment while everyone else had families. Y/n's heart was pounding, and her eyes were stinging as she bit back tears. "Of course, you don't need anyone because you've learned to be alone, but you overcompensate with a big house and a need to please. The praise is addicting to you. Once you started getting it, you needed more each time to feel good about yourself like a drug addiction."
When the tears streamed down her cheeks, Spencer wished he'd stopped the psychoanalysis before it got too personal. He felt guilt-ridden about it, unsure of what he would do if someone profiled him so thoroughly.
There was so much honestly Y/n didn't know what to do, trying not to sob out loud. He didn't say anything she hadn't thought before but hearing it aloud hurt.
By the time he realized what he'd done, she was already wiping up the tears. "S-sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"No." Y/n placed a hand on his arm, smiling gently. "It's okay." He didn't look like he believed her. "Seriously, Spencer. I asked what you knew, and I'm impressed. You're good at your job."
Spencer was still worried about what he'd done, even more so when Y/n got up. "Where are you going?"
"Just to get changed." She replied, with a genuine smile, assuring him nothing was wrong. He waited when she left, looking at the darkening sky as the stars appeared while he thought. What he had said was just what he wished he could say to himself in a mirror.
He didn't even notice she'd walked out of the house until there was a splash in the pool. "Y/n, what are you doing?" He asked when she popped her head up.
She floated on the surface, cheekily grinning at him. "Swimming, duh." The heating made the pool perfectly warm, and it made her feel like there everything was normal.
"We need to go inside," Spencer told her. "It's getting dark, and the unsub could be out here." Halfway through his talking, she put her head under the water. "Y/n? Seriously, come on." He begged, looking around at the dark hillside. "Get out, please."
"Why? This is fun." She replied, running a hand over her wet hair. "Come in."
Spencer quickly shook his head. "No." He firmly replied. "I'm meant to be protecting you."
"So, you've got to be close to me, and I'm in here." Y/n reasoned with flawed logic.
"Please, just get out." Spencer requested. He liked seeing her smile, but he didn't want to put her in danger.
There was a smirk on her face before she conceded. "Okay, give me a hand." Spencer reached down to grab her wet hand and pull her out of the pool. She took it, letting him pull her up a little before tugging hard and pulling him in.
When he came to the surface, he was spluttering, attempting to push his hair out of his eyes. "Y/n! I could have drowned." Spencer complained, his voice rising as he swam to the side of the pool.
"I would have saved you," Y/n assured him, floating around with a proud smile.
"Well, I'm wet now, and so is my gun." He grumbled, taking it out and putting it on the edge as he neared the steps.
"No, don't go." She begged, reaching out for his arm. He looked cute soaking wet with his hair pushed back and his shirt tight around his body. "Live a little."
Spencer stopped, turning to look at her wide grin. His frown quickly broke into a grin as he shook his head at her actions. "I'm drenched now, so thanks."
"You're welcome." She softly replied, swimming closer to him. His lips were too captivating for her to think before she acted. Holding his forearm, she pushed her lips onto his, kissing him roughly.
It was far too perfect a kiss for Y/n to care. He started to kiss her back when he tore himself away from her. "This is unprofessional." He insisted, trying to get some space between him and the half-naked actress.
"No one's watching." She guaranteed, pulling him back. One more light kiss convinced him.
Against his better judgment, Spencer cupped her cheek, long fingers reaching around to the back of her neck. His fingers were cold on Y/n's skin, holding her face firmly and spreading out. It was so genuine. The most real kiss she'd maybe ever had. She let him lead it, moving her face to follow his as the kiss deepened. Each time one of them moved away, the other dove back in, addicted to the feeling.
JJ clearing her throat promptly stopped them, and they both pulled away as quickly and as guiltily as possible. Caught red-handed. They scrambled to get out of the pool, Y/n grabbing the towel she'd brought and wrapping it around her wet figure.
Morgan walked past with some guy in handcuffs, dragging him while he was read his rights. He flashed Spencer a smirk, but he knew there was more teasing to come.
"Not our unsub, but he was going to try to sell these," Blake explained, carrying a camera and showing them the photos of their make-out session. If they could blush and cringe more, they would have. JJ was trying and failing at stifling a giggle.
"Are you going to..?" Y/n asked quickly before realizing what she was implying. It wasn't something she wanted Spencer to think when she had enjoyed kissing him. All she wanted was to have one private kiss. "No, I didn't mean it like that." She blurted out.
Blake shook her head. "We won't." It made Y/n breathe out an instant sigh of relief. There was more teasing to do, but the team still had a case to solve. "We think your manager was trying to get him to not sell nude pictures of you before he was killed."
Her heart stopped at hearing that. "Stephen is..?" She couldn't even form the four-letter word that had changed her life. A glance at Spencer proved he was hiding something. "You knew!" She exclaimed, anger taking over her. "We just... and you knew."
"I'm sorry." Spencer quickly rushed out, feeling terrible for what he'd just done. Knowing he'd made her cry twice was a horrible feeling.
With the tears rushing down her cheek, she shook her head. "I'm going to change." She decided, walking away from the agents before she could further embarrass herself.
Spencer looked like he wanted to go after her, big doe eyes growing tearful. "I just fell in." He tried to defend his actions to JJ after Blake went after Morgan.
"It's all here," JJ smirked, clicking through the photos so he could relive it.
"I s-shouldn't have," Spencer said, his brain catching up to what he'd just done.
JJ pulled her lips inward, raising her eyebrows like she was challenging his idea. "How well does she know Allison Cartwright?" She asked, keeping the focus on the investigation.
Spencer's mouth parted in shock, replaying meeting Y/n's friend. "Allison as in Ally who walks Judge and could get into Y/n's house whenever she liked?" He asked, urgency in his voice as he rushed to pick up his gun from the ground.
JJ unholstered her gun, calling Blake quickly with the urgent news. "We think she's in the house." She informed her, waiting for a reply before hanging up. "They're going to lock down the perimeter." She told Spencer. "You go to her room." Their usual don't-split-up rule didn't apply when the house was so big, and Y/n was in immediate danger.
Spencer ran towards the door Y/n went in, dripping wet with his gun at his side. He heard a loud cry coming from one of the rooms, and he quietly pushed the door open.
It must have been her bedroom. With the same view from the big windows as the living room had. It was minimally decorated as well. Stepping into the bedroom, Spencer held his gun up as he scanned the room for danger.
"Spencer!" Y/n cried, coming into view. Ally was holding a gun to her temple and using her as a body shield. She looked as terrified as she sounded, tears on her cheeks as her wide eyes searched Spencer's for a way out.
"Put the gun down, Ally," Spencer commanded, fixing his gaze on her. "You don't want to hurt Y/n. Not when you love her, and you've done so much to help her career."
Ally's fingers hovered over the trigger, definitely showing some sign of hesitance. "I have!" She agreed with his statement. "I love her more than anyone else does. More than you do." Haphazardly, she waved the gun at Spencer, seeing him as a threat.
"Ally, please don't," Y/n begged, unknowingly worsening the situation. With his eyes, Spencer was assuring her it would be okay. She trusted him, but her best friend could still kill her.
"No!" Ally frantically exclaimed. "You kissed him!" Quickly, she was devolving.
With his eyes, Spencer was instructing Y/n to play into the fantasy. It took her a deep breath before she did. "Ally, it didn't mean anything. They're destroying the camera because I don't want to be reminded of it."
Spencer was trying to dissociate from what she was saying. He knew it was too good to be true. She was nothing less than perfect, and he was a lanky, rambling FBI agent. Behind Y/n, Spencer could see Blake, gun raised as she stepped quietly until the barrel hit the back of Allison's head.
"Let her go and drop the gun." She commanded, and, thankfully, Ally did.
Y/n squealed when she was released, running out of her grip while Spencer moved forward to make the arrest. JJ was there too, comforting her with a hug while she cried about the longest day of her life.
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion around her as police officers came and went, and people made sure she was alright. JJ sat with her until the team had to leave, offering her comforting words of advice as everything sunk in. In one day, she'd lost her best friend and her manager.
The one person she didn't see was Spencer. When she found out he was leaving, she ran out after him.
"Spencer!" He was standing near the SUV with Morgan and Rossi, both of which were teasing him. Y/n figured someone must have brought him a change of clothes because he was in a new dress shirt and pants.
When he heard her voice, he spun around to face her, Morgan and Rossi giving them some privacy. "Are you okay?" He asked, scanning her face analytically.
"I will be," Y/n answered, smiling slightly. "Because of you." Spencer opened his mouth to tell her it was a team effort, but she stopped him. "Thank you."
Spencer nodded, not sure if he should hug her, shake her hand, or kiss her, which he was desperate to do. "You're welcome." He settled for. "I'm sorry for-"
She cut him off. "Don't be." She handed him the card she was holding, unsure about giving it to him. "If you want to call."
Smiling, Spencer took it, brushing his fingers against hers. He memorized it in case he lost it. "I will. Stay safe, Y/n."
"I will." She farewelled, waving at him before she felt Judge against her feet. "Say goodbye." She ordered the dog. He sat down, holding up his left paw and moving it side to side.
It made Spencer laugh, patting his head. "Keep her safe, Judge." He instructed, looking up at Y/n, who was still smiling.
When he got in the car, it was far too quiet. "What did she give you?" Morgan asked suspiciously.
"Her number," Spencer mumbled, reading over the numbers for the 20th time. He wanted to call, of course, but, then again, she was a beautiful, world-famous actress. How would he ever maintain a relationship with her? Plus, he knew what transference was and how the pool kiss was only because she was confused.
"Spencer Reid, my office, now," Garcia commanded, walking into the bullpen before turning around and expecting him to follow. Spencer did, assuming he wasn't in trouble. Morgan's birthday was soon, so it was probably to plan a party. "When were you in LA?" She asked, secretively shutting the door.
"Um, last week," Spencer replied, unsure where she was going with the line of questioning.
"Which date, genius?" She asked, bringing up a webpage and going to Twitter.
Spencer frowned as he tried to figure out her aim. "Wednesday, June the 18th. You know you're not allowed on Twitter at... work." His voice dropped off at the end of the sentence when he saw the video.
Y/n L/n, the one and only. Being asked some questions on a talk show, but his focus was on how beautiful she looked. Even after everything she went through just a week ago, impressively resilient.
The sound of her voice filled the Batcave when Penelope played the interview.
"So, you've had a lot of on-screen kisses, but everyone's dying to know what the best kiss of your life was." The interviewer prompted, accompanied by a cheer from the audience.
Video Y/n blushed, giving him a confident answer. "Before last week, I'm not sure I would have been able to tell you." She started, charismatic and holding Spencer's attention. "But now I can certainly say it was last Wednesday night."
That was why he was there. A grin took over his face, wanting to pinch himself to make sure it was real. Next to him, Penelope was still in shock, eyes flicking between Spencer and the screen to confirm what she already knew.
"And who was this mystery lover?" The interviewer asked, realizing he would get good publicity over the interview.
She held a soft smile with traces of disappointment. "He never called, so I can't tell you. If I thought he might see this, I'd tell him to hurry up, but I doubt he will be watching."
Penelope decided the video didn't need to go on any longer. She turned it off and spun in her chair to point at him. "You! You kissed the Y/n L/n, and I never knew! And she's talking about it! Everyone is talking about it! And you never called!" She exclaimed, not breathing in between each fact. "Why didn't you call?"
"Transference," Spencer answered. He'd looked at the number hundreds of times, sitting on his bedside table, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Which would have gone away!" She reminded him. "She very clearly liked you. Call her." She demanded, waiting for Spencer to take his phone out and call right then.
"Morgan has photos of the kiss, did he not show you?" Spencer asked, smirking smugly.
Penelope was up and out of her seat quicker than ever. "Derek Morgan!!" She yelled once she left the room. Spencer knew whatever treatment Morgan was about to get wouldn't make up for the week worth of teasing.
With the paused video on the screen and a smile on his face, Spencer was confident about what he was about to do. He dialed in the number he'd be able to recite in his sleep. "Hi, Y/n, it's Spencer." He said once she answered.
"I know." She giggled. "You're the only person who knows the phone number."
That made him smile, determined not to let his brain psych him out. Even though Y/n had a complicated life, and Spencer seemed to make things difficult, their relationship didn't have to be hard.
"Can I take you out on a date?"
Tell me what you think
@anonymous-reading @bingereid @measure-in-pain @archer561 @la-vie-en-amour1 @cynbx @spencers-dria @hardpartybasketballshepherd @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mrsobrien888 @parahmur @averyhotchner @honkroselyn @randomwriter1021 @bunnyweasley23 @rebeccasoutlook @teenwaywardasgardian @spencersnotdeadgirlfriend @bubb1eana1ee @icequeen6666 @are-y0u-sirius @psychomanias @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @jswessie187 @k-gallacher @fantasynerd09 @morganwilliams @vaella1821 @ndubes04 @talalok @juneballoon999 @tiaras-amongst-trash @onceinadifferentdimension @criminal-reid @yikesyikesyikes95 @80strashbag @ilovespencerreidmarryme @citylights31 @ssavanessa22 @thedancingnerdmermaid @Beatriz-barnes @doctorspenceryeet @gooblur @camreid @canadailluminate @lethpartridge @ssagube @spencerreid-mgg @nightlockcornucopia @loveeee2134 @karinareid @allexthakatt @silverhetdanes @aperrywilliams @g-l-pierce @lizziebeeokay @reidswhoree @beepbooptoop @silverhetdanes @kyanyakya @katiejozeisler @matthewwhore @megnotfound @80strashbag @mrsobrien888 @fanntasynerd09 @morganwilliams @j-cat @440mxs-wife @hueycat2004 @gspenc @icurasthefallenangel @iheartspence @ssavanessa22 @bisexual-virgin @thecraziestcrayon @theycallmepapasmurf @katesreading @cance1medaddy @kuolonsyoja @alexlovescriminalminds @kahootlobbymusic @nomajdetective @idonotexiste @xxgilmoregirl @drayshadow @justalittleweirdoo @wildflowersvibes @a-little-bit-of-everything19 @spencesscarf @lhhluvr @holding-on-to-my-youth @averyhotchner @mugi-chwan95 @gspenc @navs-bhat @sewagegirl @idkbubs @mochionly @nessy-nygma @nani-2305 @casfellinlovewithhumanity @shinyanchorface @nbyrd390 @drayshadow @Rhi1203 @hot-dino-nuggies @averyhotchner @simonsbluee @collectiveuniverses @meggie-m00n @allthecolorsneverseen @magz650 @peanutbelley @sassymoon @nomajdetective @laaareyes @allexxiiisss @exmachina187 @exhaleli @lucymfer @stumbleonmywords @looneymooney666 @reeid @hopefullawyerfishprofessor @graktung @sir1usblacksgf @pinkcoffeecup @luckyladycreator2 @fairyellieee @malboroniightz @kateyee @corefleur @maybe-not-this @starrylang @iamobssedwithspencerreid @citylights31 @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @goldenpugh5 @ssa-uglywhore27 @kitkatkaitin @rocketxgirl @navs-bhat @bellarkeselection @strugglingtodoshit @joy-soul-gallery @venomsvl @harry-is-my-sunflower @myenemymyunknown @luckyladycreator2 @egglantine23 @holding-on-to-my-youth @misselsbells06 @starrylang @lokisel @gryffi-ndor @lilibet261@idkbubs @multis-posts-hoe @slutalexis46 @glimmering-darling-dolly @kodiakwhiskey @rocketxgirl @mochionly @goldentournesol @xdsage @missusstark @spaceygirly1 @holding-on-to-my-youth @insomniacbeth @nbyrd390 @shirleyrose @airedale17 @anonymousreiding @tanyaherondale @so-thiswaslove @buckys-estrella @geekykeen @cbowx @lovingsherlockmolly @criminallawanatomy615 @rory-cakes @muwun-blossom @jetblckdreams @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @looneymooney666 @reidsbookmark @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @idfvc @sammypotato67 @tanyaherondale @1-800-brain-and-heart @stcrrjoon @katymarie @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @wholesome-beans @frickin-bats @chaoticevilbakugo @goldeng1rl8 @arrowurboat @itzyourgurlnihya @niovitheviolin @ajordan2020 @belongwithreid @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @vaella1820 @spencer-reids-mismatched-socks @addievermore @harrymybelovedd @chimpmunk @i3k2ts @axen-gers @gxrlwithluv @sergeant-barnes107 @finny-of-the-rear @greengarsstuff @altsvu @mondscheintraeumerin @jakiki94 @happymangospot @devilslilbabysblog @dadgum-momgum @bunny-script @pauline5525mgg @fanf1ctionwrit1n @j-cat @captainhotchner @randommmguerr
@reidsbookclub @gublerstwilight @k-k0129 @spookyspence @eevee0722 @iamreallytryingiswear @dontcallmekittens @gublur @countingthestarsinfinitely @xhopingthis-worksx @claryandjacelover @spencersjello @mikewizkalifa @actingchica @almost-a-ladybug @foodsarcasmandyou @illegallygingerr @darkacademicwhore @nervouscreatorpicklepasta @uhuhuh @alexxavicry @probablycryingg @awkwardnesshabitat @black-veil-baby @uwu-queen-420 @Holding-onto-my-youth @one-sweet-gubler @whovianayesha @buckys-doll17 @gubedawnreid @parahmur @whovianayesha @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @kierstiniscrying @simonsnowsblog @usuck @geekykeen @multifandom-fandom4 @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @sexy-dumpster-fire @j4sephluv @sophneedsfandoms @asantos7783 @hotchandspencearedilfs @idrkwhatimdoinghere @kitkatkaitin @allthingsfashionn @spideyjass @sammypotato67 @dimpledsmilex3 @vincentvanshoe @nervous-plant @safespacespence @agirlinherhead @maraudersminds @hopelesslystuc @bakugouswh0r3 @ilovespencerreidmarryme @elnmop @ah-blossom @bellam47 @matthewgraygublerlover @liltiana-ann @wildflowersvibes @annoyingbirdobject @happypixy380 @aaija @arrowurboat
@sydneekomspacekru @ccosmic-illusion @majooooooooooooooooooo
@gublerstwilight @iamreallytryingiswear @gublur @countingthestarsinfinitely @actingchica @illegallygingerr @uhuhuh @alexxavicry @probablycryingg @black-veil-baby @uwu-queen-420 @Holding-onto-my-youth @one-sweet-gubler @buckys-doll17 @gubedawnreid @ummvengers @parahmur @whovianayesha @love3babies @simonsnowsblog @geekykeen @allthingsfashionn @idrkwhatimdoinghere @spideyjass @flipperpenguins @j4sephluv @sophneedsfandoms @asantos7783 @hotchandspencearedilfs @sammypotato67 @dimpledsmilex3 @altogeek16 @nervous-plant @safespacespence @maraudersminds @bakugouswh0r3 @ilovespencerreidmarryme @fangirling-galore @ah-blossom @matthewgraygublerlover @Wildflowersvibes @happypixy380 @ccosmic-illusion @urbestgrrl
Me Before You
Summary: When he dies, the last thing he expects is to meet his soulmate in heaven.
Content Warnings: Major Character Death. Afterlife, soulmate au.
"When I die, I hope to go to Heaven, whatever the Hell that is."
- Ayn Rand.
Death is a lot warmer than he remembered.
Given the last time he died, he was in a cemetery suffering from shock and high as fuck, this was a lot different. This time he went out almost the same way he entered this world. Close to his mother, hearing her crying beside him as the machine let out one final elongated beep.
He flatlined, just like that.
What he doesn’t expect is the afterlife.
The completely white room he wakes up in is nothing but 4 falls, a bed and a mirror. He gets up, walking towards it carefully to see himself as he remembers from yesterday. 41 and tired, not yet aware of the fact his brain was about to self-destruct. Completely naked like he was at birth, he feels reborn in a sense. He examines his body in the mirror carefully. Counting scars and placing freckles, insure that this was really his body and he was seeing this with his own two eyes.
But there’s text on the mirror, the way there is fine print on a rearview mirror, there’s a warning.
“Objects in mirror are subject to change,” he reads it aloud. Thinking of what it could possibly mean, he remembers what he looked like in his mid 20’s, flowing long hair and a pep in his step. He wanted that again. Simply blinking, he opens his eyes to see his former self staring back at him, fully clothed and how he remembered.
The room switches then, pixellating from white to green, it becomes his living room back at home. All his things are where he left them, it's cozy and warm and yet something feels off. He doesn’t want to trust it yet. Scared it's all too good to be true and he was actually sat in the depths of hell, destined to be stuck in this little room forever.
There’s a knock on the door that makes his head spin, he stares in horror, waiting for something to let him know he should open it. They knock again, “Spencer, open up.”
“Gideon?” He rushes to the door and flings it open, looking at him for all of 2 seconds before wrapping his arms around the man. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you more, kid,” he replies fondly, “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Spencer assures him.
“I know,” Gideon rubs his beck as he holds him. “I read your file, that’s why I’m here.”
“What is here?” He asks as he pulls away.
“The rest of your life,” he smiles. “Welcome to the good place.”
“I’m going to need a lot more clarification than that.”
Gideon laughs, “I said the same thing when I got here.”
“Who was waiting for you?” Spencer can’t help but ask.
“Sarah,” he smiles. “She sat me down and told me all about it, now it’s my turn with you. Come with me.”
“Okay,” Spencer follows him out the door and into the sunlight. Finding a courtyard with kids running around and people relaxing under trees. Picnics and swinging, pools, sprinklers, laughter, it’s all so happy.
“You obviously chose your form already, but you can always age forward again,” Gideon explains. “I thought I looked the best at 30, Sarah had other plans, clearly.”
“You do have perpetual grandfather vibes,” Spencer teases him lightly, coming around to it all.
“The recluse professor look suits you,” he compliments him back. “Hopefully Y/N likes it.”
“Look around,” he points, “what do you see?”
“People?” He doesn’t get it.
“You see couples,” he clarifies. “Everyone out there has someone, be it a friend or a lover, everyone has another half…”
“Are you trying to tell me I have a soulmate?” If his heart hadn’t already stopped, it just would have.
First Date, First Sight, First Love
Summary - Spencer Reid is not one for dating... or so it seems. The effectiveness of a blind date set up by Penelope Garcia proves that he is certainly not as bad at the whole romance thing as he lets people believe.
Neighbor!BestFriend!Penelope Garcia x GN!Reader (they/them pronouns used!) x Spencer Reid
Category - Absolutely tooth rotting, beware-
TW - Cursing, mentions of misogyny (no actual application!), mentions of alcohol consumption (not anything dangerous, Garcia just got a little lost in counting...), (I really do not know if this counts but I figured better safe than sorry) extremely brief mention of reader wearing makeup but I tried to make it small and easily ignorable if it does not apply, Garcia's scorching sass, and Spencer being an adorably nervous lil' bean <3
Please let me know if I missed anything!
Contains - Spencer having a bit of self-doubt, Garcia being characteristically relentless, brief mention of reader wearing makeup, and Spencer being such a freaking romantic that my heart swelled two sizes writing this.
Author's Note - As always, please, please do not hesitate to make any comments or provide constructive criticism. All I want to do is improve my writing and hopefully spread some happiness to anyone who may find themselves needing it. Enjoy <3
"Whoever this is, I swear to you, I can and most certainly will run a background check on you and find out where you live. I assure you, I am in possession of the capabilities. I so have that happy ability and once I do that, you-" Garcia grumbles loudly as she drags herself most unwillingly out of bed to return the harassment she is receiving from the person so rudely knocking on her door ungodly loudly at such odd hours of the night. No, scratch that, damn near breaking down her door is more accurate. She almost wonders if it's Morgan but he has the capacity to actually break down her door so she doubts it.
Flinging the door open and facing her unwelcome visitor, she finds that her surprise has dulled as her memory of the past week is freed from her sleep-deprived mind. Of course, she was expecting this.
Her sassy best friend and next-door neighbor, Y/N is the one knocking. Penelope was absolutely certain that it would be either them or Spencer who came to her aid for one reason or another by the end of the night. Really, she comes to think that it is her fault for falling under the delusion that perhaps she would not be woken up in this way before the sun rose... or maybe a little after if she was any better than she thought.
"I mean, I can save you the hassle if you'd like," they greet. "I am pretty sure you know this but I live there... or am I going to regret reminding you?" Y/N sasses as they point to the door directly beside the one they stand in the opening of.
Penelope's anger instantly fizzles in the midst of their joking and the prospect of gossip.
"Oh my god, spill," she instantly grabs at Y/N, capturing them with a bone crushing grasp around their upper arm and stumbling as she yanks them into her home.
"Hold on, Penny," Y/N begins to the immediate whine of protest from their overly eccentric friend. "Are- now, I don't want to make any assumptions here but I think it may not be so far a venture for me to say that you're pretty drunk right now."
"God, I hate profilers!" Garcia exclaims with a stomp of her foot to emphasize the point.
"Pen, I am not a profiler. I am an underpaid secretary at a boring firm who gets whistled at daily by sickos under the gross illusion that is the 'alpha male'. Mind you, these same creatures are supposed to be professional. If they are anything of the sort, they are professional misogynists."
"Okay, yeah, close enough," Penelope pouts.
"Garcie, are you drunk?" Y/N prompts.
"Oh, off my ass," She responds with no hesitation.
"Tell me, why does that not surprise me?"
"Look," She begins and Y/N shakes their head with a laugh as they sense one of her trademark rants about anything she finds even remotely inconvenient coming on. "You know I love you, yeah?"
Y/N nods their understanding.
"Okay, so keep that in mind when I say the rest of this. Don't look so incredulous!" Garcia adds as Y/N raises an eyebrow.
"I don't look anything, go on," They encourage.
"Okay, so yes, I had a few drinks."
"More than that, clearly..." Y/N mumbles only just audibly.
"I had a few," Garcia emphasizes, "because I love the both of you but any way this night ended, I knew either you or Reid would be by. It would either be really early or really late and if this crashed and burned, I needed to find some way to summon the will to stand here and listen to one of you. If this was a gorgeous success that I am so commonly known to be the director of, I needed to find some way to summon the will to stand here and listen to one of you." Penelope deadpans.
"Look, I'm sorry, I really am but a heaven-sent angel like myself has to do what a heaven-sent angel like myself has to do."
"That is so uncharacteristically mean... or nice," They sound questioning, "I actually cannot really tell."
Garcia pouts again.
"It doesn't seem to be working too well anyway," Y/N deduces.
"Oh, trust me, it's working. I am enjoying the appearance of three stunningly dressed you's in this discussion."
"Be that as it may, I'm sober and I've been standing in the same spot five minutes. You have almost fallen twice and have been swaying continuously."
"Alright, fair point," Penelope condones, "follow me."
Leading them further inside, Garcia plops Y/N down on her sofa before following that lead and wasting no time to pounce on their inevitable story.
"So..." Garcia squints as she analyzes Y/N's face, "I see no red eyes or evidence of tidied makeup which leads me to believe that, as I am sure no one is surprised, I succeeded again."
Y/N looks down at their hands in their lap as a blush creeps quite perceptively onto their cheeks.
"What are you waiting for? No one ignores me, I said spill!"
"Okay, okay," Y/N allows.
"Penelope, you do not understand. Just talking to him... he has the most beautiful mind. I mean, I don't know if it may be too early to tell anything about... y'know but what I do know is that sitting there with him, he makes my dopamine levels go silly. I mean, he literally told me- and I don't have an eidetic memory like him or anything but I do remember this. He saw me once and the second we took our seats the first thing he said was, 'Tell me everything about you. You can go on for hours. I don't mind.'"
Garcia's face never falters in its unwavering beam.
"I mean, I- I kinda wish I had met him sooner, y'know? What a treat it would be to love him longer."
Y/N slaps their hands over their mouth as they realize what they are saying and what they are unintentionally admitting to. Penny, despite her current intoxication, does not miss this.
"I'm sorry," she says with a cheeky smirk, "repeat that last part, would you?"
"Garcie, I really think it might be true..." Y/N trails off as a tentative knock comes from the door.
"Who is it?" They whisper-yell at their best friend. Garcia simply shrugs with an indifferent face.
"Don't worry I got it," She answers before standing to open the door.
"Oh, hi!" Penelope exclaims, the additional visitor in the doorframe blocked from Y/N's view on the sofa and vise versa.
"Garcia, do you believe in love at first sight?" Spencer's voice trickles in with his telltale enthusiasm throughout.
"Oh, I dunno," Penny responds inconclusively.
"Yeah, well, neither did I. Notice the past tense because I swear that you did something of unknowable power when you set this blind date up. Garcia, I am not kidding. I am a man of science and there is no proof of the concept in the field but something happened tonight. I took one look at them and I thought, 'Sorry, brain but I think I gotta go with heart on this one.' I mean, sometimes I get so far into my head that I forget everything else exists but tonight, there was one thing that consistently existed and it was them. You know I'm a sucker for old, romantic literature but I am certainly not a poet. If I was ever to write a poem, though, they are exactly the poem I would want to write. If I ever write a novel, they will not be a chapter; they're gonna be the whole damn thing. I try to keep myself pretty contained, I do my damnedest not to overshare but I did with them. It was almost scary how easy it was. They're so comfortable, I- I just... isn't it so fucking great how people can feel like home? Oh, when they responded to an overly personal childhood story of mine with, 'What if everything you are and did go through is preparing you for what you asked for?', I thought I would die on the spot. I realized then, I think, that they are what I asked for all my life. Please tell me you can get me another date because even in a crowded room, I think I would only ever want to look at them... literally ever." He huffs so largely that Penelope thinks he gains about six inches of height as his chest expands.
"Yeah, so, Reid?" Penny starts, cringing slightly at the thought of his unknowing audience to this confession.
"Penelope, I am serious! We said goodbye an hour, 36 minutes, and," he consults his watch, "42 seconds ago and I cannot stop thinking about them. I do not want to ever do that again. I never want to say that to them again. In my experience, saying goodbye only means going away and people forget when they go away and I really cannot deal with that idea when it comes to them. Normally, I have all sorts of thoughts going frat-partying around in my head but they stilled them. I have been looking for that calm in the storm for all time, all of it. I know that this is... Damn, this is love, right? I mean, I think about them constantly already... I do it without trying. I feel like I have known them forever, I only met them today but that feels impossible. I have never once been so confused and so happy about it. There's gotta be some connection because I feel like I must have known them since before matter made any sense and I still get those damn butterflies." He continues.
"Reid, one second..." Penelope tries to no avail.
"I sat in my car for an hour and 19 minutes just squealing and pondering like an idiot before I came here but I didn't feel like an idiot. Just the thought of them was enough to make me want to drive my car and you know how much that is saying. I would drive to a beach for them and that is saying something. Honestly, pulling up here I couldn't decide until I got to your doors whether I would be knocking on yours or theirs, begging for more company. I really, really wish I could just ask them what they think of me because I am sure it will kill me either way, the absolutely overwhelming ecstasy or misery. I just need to know if they feel this, too."
Spencer finally finishes and catches on to the discomfort of his coworker and friend before him.
"What?" He asks, his face falling.
"Well, um..." Penelope glances fleetingly over her shoulder at the frozen subject of Spencer's absolutely smitten declaration.
"Oh no, they live next door!" Spencer exclaims, "Do you think they heard that?"
Before his usual self-doubt can suffocate him, Garcia takes charge.
"Spencer, you can ask them yourself 'cause... uh, well, they undoubtedly did hear every word of that and they didn't have to be next door to do so."
Penelope slowly and wordlessly steps to the side and allows Spencer indicative consent of entry. He doesn't take it, though, too completely stricken to see the quickly claimed object of his affection right in front of him.
"Hello," Spencer nervously croaks as they meet his eyes, "I missed you quite terribly."
Their expression is blank as they stare and Spencer can't stand the silence so he fills it.
"Look, Y/N. I cannot even begin to explain to you how inexplicably perfect it felt to look up across a room and see you standing there. I want that. I've spent too much time at war with myself. I need this... I need you. So, I am scared out of wits that this will be completely unrequited but you have to know that I'm saying I love you not necessarily so that I can hear it back because I cannot express how much I understand why you wouldn't love me. I get it, really, I do. My posture is lousy. I really do have the posture of an earthworm, my hair's too long, my tie is perpetually crooked, and I talk way too damn much. I just need to say it because... I am saying it because I need you to know. So..." He breathes deeply, "I love you. I know, I am freakishly early and forward but- huh?" Spencer's eyebrows bunch.
"I said that I love you," Y/N mumbles again, having been too quiet the first time for Spencer to hear over his own speech.
"You- did?" He seems baffled at the possibility.
"Spencer, I fall in love with people's passion. You have an untenable amount of that and I hope you know I mean that in the best way. The way your eyes lit up when you talked about the things you love and the way they filled up with light, I cannot explain what that did to my heart."
"Will you- will you let me add you to that list?" He ventures.
"What list?" Y/N asks.
"Of the things I love," He clarifies.
Hotchner’s Daughter pt. III
Summary: Reader is finally a member of the BAU. Morgan is now her mentor and will help her becoming a good profiler. A few members of the team might have already figured a few things out. While the team is out on a case in Phoenix, Arizona, 3 certain words comes out of Spencer which results in confessions and loads of kisses.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (Hotchner’s daughter)
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: age gab between consenting adults (24/32), kissing, short mentions of sex, love confessions.
Part 1 Part 2
Today was just like any other day for the BAU team. They were finishing up some reports on cases that needed to be finished in time for the deadline.
Your dad Aaron and David were having a chat in your dad's office when Derek entered the room with a knock on the door.
“Hey Hotch?” Derek asked.
“What is your daughter doing here?”
Aaron looked at the direction of the glass doors. And there you were. Standing tall and proud right in front of the glass doors you just had passed through.
“She’s here as an employee, an agent and she’s going to be trained to become a profiler. Derek..” your dad paused, getting both David’s and Derek's attention. “You will be the one training her, mentoring her and helping her become a profiler.” He continued.
“Sir, I’m honored, but isn’t she supposed to be studying criminal justice and training to get into the academy?” Derek asked with a confused expression on his face.
“She finished early and has passed every exam for school and the academy.” Your dad explained.
“Impressive.” David said as he noticed you and Spencer talking while standing rather close for comfort. You gave Spencer a hug. Normally he wasn’t a person who hugged but when it came to you, he would hug you every second it was possible without drawing attention.
“Spencer and your daughter seem really close.” Derek also noticed and looked out on the two of you that continued to talk.
“He helped her a lot with studying.” Aaron said and sat down in his chair to look at his newly written report. David and Derek gave each other a knowing look that you and Spencer were even closer than your dad would like to know.
“I’ve heard that Derek is going to be your mentor and trainer.” Spencer said with a smile as he sat down by his desk.
“Yeah, I’m really excited. He seems really passionate about his job and wants to go the extra mile to do a good job. Especially when it comes to training.” You smiled and sat on the edge on his rather messy table.
“He is. Also..” Spencer paused and looked around. “Does anyone know?”
You shook your head no. “All my friends know about us. But nobody within these walls knows.” You said rather quietly so only he could hear it.
He nodded at your words. “We just need to keep a low profile for a while.”
You nodded back at his words.
“Do you want some help with those reports?” you suggested and pointed to his small pile of case files on his table.
“I do but I think your dad wants to talk to you.” Spencer said and grabbed a case file from the pile.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because he’s right behind you.” your dad said with a smile.
You looked to your right and saw him standing with a proud smile. “Hi, dad. What’s up?”
“Just want to talk about your upcoming schedule with Morgan and then we have a new case.” Your dad explained.
“Sure.” You smiled and stood up. “Good to see you again, doctor.”
You and your dad went back to his office to discuss his plans and ideas for your future within the bureau.
It's now been a few months since you joined the BAU. Spencer and you had been really good at keeping a low profile while you were together with the team, however, Derek, David and Penelope had caught on that there was something between the two of you but they didn’t have the nerve to ask.
Mostly due to your private lives.
One day when you were out on a case, you and Spencer were alone in the smaller meeting room at a local police department office. You were going over some of the victims to see what type of people the Unsub likes, while Spencer was working in the geographical profile.
“Spence?” You asked.
“You look really handsome today. I like the lavender on you.” You smiled and looked over at him sitting across the table.
“Thank you. As always you look amazing.” He complimented back.
You giggled at his compliment. “Thank you. I wish I could kiss you but they should be back at any minute.”
“I would love to just give you a small kiss but the problem is…” Spencer paused and leaned a bit closer over the table. “If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” He confessed and had a soft smirk on his face.
“I’m honestly glad we share a room while we work on this case. Otherwise I would die if I didn’t get any physical contact.” You chuckled and wrote down some notes for the profile.
“Scientifically speaking, we can’t die from little to no physical touch, the human body and brain just becomes really stressed that can lead to depression.” He said with a serious face.
“I didn’t ask for the facts.” You chuckled and looked up at him.
“Wait, that's it!” He said rather loudly.
“What’s what?” You asked and stood up to walk over to his side of the table.
“The handwritten notes that were left at the scenes, they weren’t just random notes, they were facts about the place where the bodies got dumped! I love you!” He smiled and gave you a quick kiss on your soft chapped lips.
When he pulled away and walked over to the large board, you just stood there. Frozen.
Frozen by his words.
“You… you love… me?” You stammered and looked at his direction but not directly at him.
“What?” He asked and turned around to face you.
“You said you loved me. Did you mean it?.” You said barely above a whisper, really trying not to shed a tear.
He took a step closer to you. “Otherwise I wouldn’t say it.”
“Found anything yet?” Your dad stepped inside the smaller meeting room you and Spencer were in.
“Uhm yeah,” you started and grabbed the notepad on the table. “Our unsub has a special kind of type. He has a type for redheads with blue or green eyes and if you look at the girls smiling, the right side is more upwards than the left.” You explained.
“And our unsub is rather mobile as well. Each victim was found around 20 miles from each other meaning his comfort zone is within this area.” Spencer explained and pointed to the large map that was on the table.
“Plus the notes he left on the crime scene are literally facts about the places.” You explained further. “Have you found out anything from the interviews with the families?”
“Not really. Couldn’t really get anything informative out of them.” Your dad explained and let out a huge sigh.
“The profile is coming along nicely. We just need the last few pieces of information to know exactly who we are dealing with.” You reassured him and gave your dad a side hug.
Since you and the rest of your team had left the case in Phoenix, both you and Spencer had been awfully quiet. Normally you two talked a lot about being the youngest on the team and how to cope with seeing dead people all the time.
Your dad and Derek had taken notice of it but they didn’t wanna talk about it on the plane, mostly because you and Spencer would hear it but also because your dad wanted to talk to Derek about how to develop your skills further.
Right now you were sitting by your desk, writing your reports and trying to stay awake. Training with Derek and going on cases really made you exhausted.
“Hey, Emily?” Garcia asked her in the small kitchen area, refilling her coffee cup.
“What’s up?” Emily turned her attention to the colorful lady beside her and leaned against the counter.
“Something’s off between Reid and Hotch Junior. They usually talk about nerd stuff and helping each other with the reports, but since you guys have arrived back home, they haven’t exchanged a word.” Garcia told Emily in a frustrated tone.
“Yeah, it is kind of weird. Also, I’ve noticed whenever they say hello or goodbye, they hug and Reid hates physical contact and germs for that matter.” Emily said and looked in the direction of you and Spencer.
Garcia let out a quiet gasp. “Do you think they have been sleeping together?”
“It could be possible.” Emily said quickly before she would be interrupted by Garcia.
“Or they could be dating.” Garcia said with a smile.
“I have been noticing the way they look at each other, it isn’t how normal friends look at each other. They are in love.” Emily explained and looked at Garcia, who’s face lit up.
“So you're saying that boy genius and Hotch Junior are dating and are super in love with each other?”
Emily nodded. “That would be my guess.”
“What would be your guess?” You asked and filled your empty coffee mug up again.
“That we are almost certain that we will go on a case tomorrow.” Emily said and went back to her desk.
You gave Garcia a weird look. “Were you really spending 5 minutes and 48 seconds talking about us possibly having a case tomorrow?” you asked and took a sip of your coffee.
“Mhm. I better go back to my desk.” Garcia said and walked away as fast as she could in her stilettos.
“Y/n, can we talk in the conference room?” you heard Spencer ask.
You turned to him and gave him a soft nod. “Sure.”
As you and Spencer walked towards the conference room, the rest of the team watched you two walk together towards the room. They all knew something was off between you two but they also knew they shouldn’t ask why.
When you reached the room, Spencer closed the door to get some privacy.
“What do you want?” you asked and crossed your arms.
“I wanna talk about what happened in Phoenix.” Spencer started but he didn’t make eye contact. You could sense that he was rather annoyed with the silence that was between you two.
“Yes…” you paused, wanting him to say what he really wanted to say.
He tucked his hands into his pockets in his pants. Spencer was clearly uncomfortable.
“I did mean it.. when I said ‘I love you’. I love you as my partner and my colleague and I guess I didn’t think it through when I said it out loud.” Spencer confessed and made eye contact with you.
Your whole body relaxed, unfolding your arms and opening them so he could give you a much needed hug. He was quick to walk over and wrapped his arms around your waist, embracing you in a tight hug.
“I love you too, Spencer.” you said and hugged him tighter. “I wish I could give you a kiss.”
“We could but then it would expose our relationship.” Spencer said and pulled away from the embrace. He looked into your eyes. You could see the love coming out from him.
“Your place tonight?” you asked with a soft smile and walked towards the closed door.
Spencer let out a chuckle and followed right behind you. “Like our usual tuesday night with indian take away?” He asked.
“Mhm. I’ll bring a to-go bag. I’m counting on a sleepover.” you said and stepped outside into the bullpen.
“Copy that.” Spencer smiled and followed right behind you.
Spencer heard knocking coming from his front door. He assumed it wasn’t you because you weren’t supposed to be there for another 20 minutes but when he opened the door and saw it was you, he was rather surprised.
“You weren’t supposed to be here for another 20 minutes. You’re early.” Spencer chuckled and let you inside of his apartment.
“I know. That’s why I came early, so we could spend more time together.” you smiled and gave his flushed cheek a quick kiss.
You walked into his apartment and noticed that he had dimmed his lights by using some smaller blankets, colored tissue paper and had lit some candles. His sofa was filled with pillows and blankets, clearly having gotten his place ready for a relaxing movie night with Indian take away.
“I didn’t know you were this romantic.” you giggled and walked over to him with open arms.
“I can be romantic… and many other things as well.” he smiled and embraced you in a tight hug.
“Such a tease sometimes.” you sighed and hugged him tighter.
“I’m so madly in love with you.” he whispered into your ear as his hands went from your waist down to the curve of your bum and gave it a soft squeeze.
“Getting a little handsy there, Doctor.” you giggled and ran your hands and fingers through his curly hair. “When did you discover that you were madly in love with me?”
“When all of my decisions started to revolve around you.” he mumbled and squeezed your bum once again.
You pulled away slightly so you could watch his face. Spencer’s strong facial structure seemed so soft in the dimmed light in his apartment. Both of your hands were still in his curly messy hair playing with the split ends of it when his lips turned into a soft smile.
“Did I… tell you how gorgeous you look today?” Spencer asked as his hands went back up to your hips and waist.
“No. But all of your little looks told me that you thought it.” You smiled and placed a hand on the soft contour of his cheek bone.
“Am I that easy to read?” He asked with slightly furrowed brows and as his hands tucked you closer to his body.
“Sometimes you’re an open book and other times you’re super hard to read. Today I could read you like an open book and if we aren’t careful the other’s might catch onto us.” you said and pulled away completely from his grip and body to go over to the sofa.
As you had sat down on the sofa there was a knock on his door. “Take away!” a man spoke from the other side.
“Coming!” Spencer said. When he opened the door, there was a man with takeaway but he didn’t have Indian food with him. He had a bag with a large pizza and fries.
“Thank you. Here keep the change.” Spencer said as he gave him the money he needed.
“I thought we were supposed to have Indian food tonight.” you said and sat more up on the sofa and looked in his direction.
“We were but then I remembered that you have a soft spot for a good mozzarella pizza with pepperoni and garlic powder.” Spencer smiled and came over with two plates and some pizza slices on them.
“I only mentioned it to Penelope during lunch.” You said and took a bite of the pizza.
“She loves to gossip if you haven’t noticed it.” Spencer chuckled and began to eat as well.
You and Spencer were watching a movie while eating the pizza and fries. It felt nice for once to have a calm evening with a partner you trusted. Once you had finished eating you went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit.
You changed into your light pink playboy pajamas that had shorts and a bottom up top matching. You took your makeup remover and removed the rest of your makeup that you hadn’t removed prior to arriving at Spencer’s place.
Once that was done you walked back out to his living room while you tied your hair into a rather messy ponytail. You didn’t notice Spencer looking, or more like staring, until you looked over at him.
“What?” You giggled and looked down at your body to see if there was a spot or anything else that could be wrong.
“I-…You just look absolutely amazing.” Spencer said with loving eyes and stepped closer to you.
You let out a chuckle and looked down as you got a little shy and got a flustered face. “Thank… Thank you. But I don’t look my best when I’m just wearing my pj’s.” you said trying to avoid his stare.
“You’re insecure. That’s why you aren’t making eye contact. I thought that the daughter of Aaron Hotchner wasn't insecure.” Spencer said and stepped closer so he finally could reach you.
“She’s actually quite insecure.” You said shortly and kept your gaze down at the floor. When you saw his feet and felt his presence you knew what was coming up. You closed your eyes as you waited for his hands to caress your cheeks.
“Do you mind if I touch your skin?” You heard him ask.
You were quick to look up and find his gaze. “Sure. But you don’t need to ask that...”
“I feel like I do. I think that both consent and communication is essential in a partnership.” Spencer said as he placed a gentle hand on your still flustered cheek.
“That’s true. Thank you.” You smiled at him.
It felt strange to be asked if a person could touch your cheek but somehow it felt nice to be asked if the other person was allowed.
You and Spencer stood close to each other, feeling the warmth of each other’s bodies. Spencer’s thump was caressing the soft curve of your cheek, making you feel butterflies in your stomach.
Was it nerves? Or was it just excitement?
Either way you were head over heels in love with Spencer and you knew he felt the same way about you. Spencer’s hands went from your flustered cheeks down to your waist to tuck you closer to his body.
Your hands were placed on his tank top covered chest, feeling his soft heartbeat that was behind ribs, blood and skin. Spencer’s hands moved further down your body to your bum yet again.
Spencer leaned down to kiss you but he hesitated. Your noses were touching but not your lips. Not yet.
“It’s not like it’s our first kiss.” You smiled and closed your eyes. You moved your fingers into his hair and played with his hair.
Spencer didn’t say anything back this time, instead he pressed his soft lips against yours on a passionate kiss.
The feeling of kissing him after a long day of flying home and doing reports, was amazing. Your body physically relaxed as Spencer squeezed your bum as he deepened the kiss further.
Spencer’s body, however, tensed up. At first you thought he didn’t like the kiss or the situation but you quickly realized that the pretty boy you were kissing with passion, wanted to make this night memorable for a long time.
Writing has been going slower than usual for me lately, but I decided to share what I'm currently working on anyway. So here is a little preview of the three fics I am hoping to post soon. I don't know about the exact schedule yet, but I might post one of them by the end of this week!
Sidenote: I felt really inspired by the lovely moodboards my friends here have been making, so I thought I'd try to expand my moodboard making skills as well.
I would really like to know what you think about my upcoming fics here!
In Full Bloom
Category: Fluff, Smut
Summary: A random interaction between Spencer Reid and Fem!Reader leads to weeks of longing and yearning until they decide they have spent enough time being strangers
The Only Hoax I Believe In
Category: Angst with a happy ending
Summary: Spencer Reid struggles with his addiction after prison until Fem!Reader is determined to help him, no matter the cost (inspired by the Taylor Swift song hoax)
Summary: Emily Prentiss is the most stunning woman Fem!Reader has ever seen, so she makes sure their night together doesn't end anytime soon
Parters In Crime
summary: Spencer Reid is no longer a BAU genuis, but your partner in crime. A sneak peek at what it takes to earn Spencer's trust.
warnings: SMUT (daddy kink, master kink, degradation, semipublic sex, dark!Spencer, dark!reader, tehcnically you shoot him, guns, talk of commiting crimes)Pairing:Dark! Spencer Reid/Female Reader
A/N:I'm aware this isn't everyone's cup of tea so please read with caution! I might consider expanding this into a miniseries also if it is recieved well! As always, thank you to @reidsconverse for the motivation to finish this one for y'all
The shots around you echoed off the metal walls loudly, the metallic clang still made your ears ring even after several trips to the shooting range - but this time you were zeroed in on your target, and after taking in one deep breath you let six shots fly out of the .45 you had an iron grip on, each tearing a bigger hole into your paper enemy 100 yards from you.
“Look at that doll. I’d say you’re just about ready.” Spencer Reid, your adonis standing beside you carefully peeled the weapon from your hands and holstered it, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. You thrived under his praise and let yourself feel proud, sinking further into his leather-covered touch.
“You think so?” You question his praise, unused to such direct attention, having not received it before you had met Spencer, who quickly became the light of your life. He starts stroking that spot on your neck that drove you wild and you struggle to bite back a whimper as he licks a hot stripe down from behind your ear to the base of your neck. Of course, everyone else was too hyperfocused on gun safety to notice but it didn’t keep you from being shy.
“I said so, didn’t I?” He says into your ear, making you giggle You turn around, looking up at the man with a passionate gaze. “Just because you said it doesn’t make it true! You could just be sparing my feelings!” You fake pout, and it turns into a real one when he leans down and nips at your bottom lip. “I don’t spare feelings when it comes to this shit doll, I’m not trying to get caught.” he spits out at you. You don’t respond with your hatred and he smiles knowing you take a disgusting amount of joy in the way he speaks to you.
“Besides babydoll, I may lie but the targets don’t - and you took out everyone dead on. It’s time for the last challenge and then we can get the hell out of this town.” You nod vigorously and he leans down to kiss you hard, before letting his arms drop and placing his hand in yours, pulling you out of the shop and into the black Audi that looked miserably out of place in front of the run down indoor gun range 30 minutes outside of Seattle.
He opened your door for you and you slid in, the welcome smell of spearmint gum and raspberry air freshener filling your nostrils once more. You pull your door closed as Spencer dashes around the front end to get out of the torrential downpour that had started while you were shielded inside. You unwrap another piece of your gum that he keeps stocked in the console and slip it into your mouth, soaking in the sweet flavor. He places his hand around the back of your headrest and pulls out of the lot, slipping his hand down to rest on your thigh as he pulls back out onto the main road.
“Spencer I can’t do this!”
You’re both standing in an abandoned warehouse, an hour away from your apartment. 100 yards away from you, the man of your dreams stands wearing a bulletproof vest. Your hands begin to sweat and you automatically tighten your grip on the weapon, turning your knuckles white. When he had said there was only one test left, you would have never guessed that he’d ask this of you.
“Come on doll. If you can’t do this, how do you expect me to believe you’ll have my back out there? I’m protected, you’re not gonna hurt me.” You shake your head and he scoffs, walking up to you and pulling the gun out of your hands with a snarky look on his face. “I knew you weren’t ready.” He begins to walk away towards the exit, but you reach out to stop him.
“Give me the fucking gun Spencer.” You manage to force out through gritted teeth. He smirks and hands it back to you, walking to his former place, this time a little farther. “Give me your best shot doll.” You try to swallow the lump in your throat but you can’t. Your hands begin to shake and your vision starts to blur, you quickly blink back the tears. “I don't have all day doll, come on! Shoot me! SHOOT ME!” his angered voice echoes around the warehouse. You let out a frustrated scream and fired two shots straight into his chest, hearing him grunt.
He falls back on his ass and lets out a long groan. You dropped the gun and ran over to him, pushing his long hair out of his face. “Oh my god Spencer, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” His hand snakes up and grasps your wrist, pulling you down on top of him. You don’t resist though the ground is dirty and cold. He holds you to his chest for a few moments and you can hear his ragged breathing begin to regulate once more. “Spencer?” you dare to ask quietly. His fingers find surface under your chin and he pulls your face up to eye level. “You’re ready now.” You kiss him hard and he pulls your body down against him, grinding up into you.
You let out a soft moan and he snakes his hand up your thigh, pushing your soft skirt up out of his way. You gasp at the chilled air that now surrounds your core. He brushes the tips of his fingers over the wet spot of your panties, making you whimper. “Please… Spence please I need you.” “Shhh doll, be a good girl and quiet down so I can pleasure you as you deserve.” he rolls you over gently, and you whimper at the cool ground seeping into you through the thin fabric of spencer’s leather jacket he laid down under you.
He spreads your legs and leans down between them after pulling the thin lavender fabric aside. “So pretty for me in my favorite color.” You feel your cheeks heat up as he finally presses a kiss to your clit. You groan out as he licks a hot filthy stripe up your cunt and you wiggle your hips in an attempt to get more friction. He quickly stops you with one arm slung lazily over your hips, pushing you down into the ground. He easily overpowered you, only serving to make you wetter as he fully devours you.
“Daddy please, I need you!” you whisper, arms coming up to cover your face. He looks up at you and pulls your arms away with his hands gently. “I’m not your daddy, doll. You belong to your Master now, got it?” You nod in response, and in retaliation, he fully rips your panties off from the middle with such ease that you gasp, and he laughs at your response. “I expect a response when spoken to, is that clear doll?” “Yes, Master! I’m sorry” you look up at him with big eyes and he leans down to kiss you, fumbling with his zipper as he pulls away, leaving a saliva trail connecting your mouths.
“Are you ready for me now little doll?” You nod your head before quickly speaking up to avoid the same mistake twice. “Yes please, Master!” He smirks down at you and pushes deep inside you, making you moan out into the empty air. He starts fucking up into you hard, quickly making you breathless. You could tell neither of you would be lasting long, the tension in the air was palpable. “Master, please… I’m close” you manage to get out between moans. He reaches down and wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing the sides.
“You better wait for me to cum, little doll.” He whispers into your face and you lock eyes, waiting for his permission to finally push you over the edge. Not a minute passes before he reaches down to rub his thumb over your clit. “Okay baby, are you ready to cum for me?” You moan and try to respond, but he rubs faster circles over your clit, turning your “yes” into a louder moan. You tighten around him as you both finish together, a mix of moans and curses escaping your mouths.
He fucks you through your highs, coming slowly to a stop and resting his head on your chest. He lazily pulls out of you and kisses his way up to your mouth.
“You were so good for me babydoll,” he whispers into your skin, setting you up slowly. He pulls you into his lap and strokes your hair, rubbing your neck to rid it of the stiffness from laying on the concrete floor. You melt into his unusually gentle touch. After a few minutes, you stand up with his help and pull the scraps of your panties down off from around your waist.
“These were my favorite” you pout at him as he crosses the room to pick up his gun. He switches the safety on and holsters it, walking back over to you and picking up his leather jacket off the floor. He dusts the back of it off and slips it around your shoulders, letting you snuggle into the warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist and leans down to whisper in your ear.
“Let’s go get this money and I’ll buy you 100 more pairs.” You smile and nod and he takes your hand to lead you out of the warehouse. His wrist is pressed against yours and your matching tattoos face each other. Spencer gets you into the car, and you absentmindedly stroke over the black bold lettering on your wrist. “You’re not having second thoughts are you?” He questions, slipping into the driver’s side. You shake your head no quickly. “Absolutely not. Particeps sceleris?” He takes your hand and kisses the top, squeezing it tight. “Particeps sceleris.” he answers you. And for the first time, your anxiety fades.
“Then let’s go get this money, Daddy.”
Conflict of Interest
18+ content warning for this story
chapter two: Shower Thoughts
You're sitting with your legs crossed in front of you in a pretzel on your bed. Nina sits on your desk chair, brushing her beautiful brown locks.
"If you get hair in my brush, I will shank you."
“Damn, Y/n, you can't threaten people like that when you're an agent."
"That's a valid point," you roll your eyes.
“I cannot believe our teacher is such a hottie. I swear he's making me not a lesbian," they say, setting down your brush on the desk. She gets up and plops on her bed, across from yours.
"You weren't a full lesbian anyway."
"I was getting there," she says with a slight shrug. Their red tanktop makes her brown skin pop even more. You've always thought Nina was gorgeous, and it shocked your brother that you didn't want to date her (which he said to send her his way).
"Do not blame ya there. Men ain't shit."
"As queen Doja says," Nina grins.
"But women aren't shit either. My ex girlfriend was..."
"A little bitch. She was a little bitch," they say bluntly.
Nina and you have been roommates and training partners for two months now. You became friends pretty fast, it would've been awkward if you didn't. The two of you shared your weird ex stories, which hers were so much more interesting. She once dated a guy who hung pictures of models' feet on his wall.
They'd made it their job to protect you from ever dating a "little bitch" again, and you promised her you would make sure anyone she dated next was good enough... and not fucking weird.
You shrug slightly with a nod. "Yeah that's pretty accurate."
"I swear I want that tall nerdy ass man to..."
"Okay! Nina, I'm going to go take a shower. You can keep your weird teacher fantasies to yourself."
"Oh I will," they wink.
You shake your head and rise from your seat, going to the showers. The campus that trainees reside in is similar to that of a college or boarding school. Conveniently though, there is a half bath in every room, meaning you can take a piss without walking a hundred feet down the hall.
You grab your things and walk the distance to the restroom. There's fifteen showers on this floor and twenty women, so not much waiting really has to happen.
You step into the stall, shower shoes on, and take your clothes off, setting them on the wrack outside the curtain. You let the water hit your body, the temperature cold at first until it adjusts to a nice luke warm. You lather your shampoo into your hair, rinse, repeat, then condition. The smell of citrus and vanilla fill the room.
Most people take their showers after training or before dinner, but it's a type of relaxing for you to do it before bed time.
As your hands roam your body, soap and body wash cleansing your skin, an image pops into your mind. An image you need to push away.
There he is, standing in front of you, just inches apart, as his hands lather the soap onto your skin. He slides them down your shoulders, then to your waist, moving up and up until he reaches your-
Nope. You cannot be thinking about your professor while in the shower.
You rinse off quickly and turn the water off before grabbing a towel and drying your skin and hair. You slip on a pair of black shorts and an oversized white t shirt then head back into yours and Nina's room.
“Well your face is all fire truck red. What's up with that?"
“The water was a bit too hot," you tell her and put your things away before sitting back down on your bed. Your wet hair drips a little on your bed.
“Ah gotcha," they say, but it doesn't sound like she's convinced.
You nod, pressing your lips together before grabbing a book from your desk. Reading has always been a way for you to disconnect your mind from reality and slip into a new one. Whether that be a fantasy where you're fighting for your life against faeries who try to control your mind or a true crime where you use your training to solve the case before you're even two thirds of the way done with the novel.
Reading helped you get away from your family life as a teenager. It's not that your family life is bad, but it could get hectic. You have 3 older brothers and two younger half sisters. You used to see them a lot, until your mom and her husband left the state of California and decided to create a new life for themselves in Austin, Texas. A very random place to choose you might add.
That's one of the reasons your dad was so opposed to you moving across the country to Virginia. He didn't like that his only daughter, and youngest child, would be so far and he was left with your then 26 year old brother who moved back into his house.
You left for college at 18, not going too far. UCLA was a good 5 and a half hour drive from your suburban home in San Francisco. You graduated at 22 with a double major in communications and journalism and a minor in the basics of law. Then, after being an editor for a news article, you realized you were interested in the lunatic criminals you read about. That's when you decided to join the FBI academy. Criminal Psychology became an obsession, not just a hobby to read about like it had been.
Once you were accepted into the academy, you practically got packed for Quantico right then and there, ready to say goodbye to your dad and brothers. You haven't talked to your mother much since they moved to Texas when you were 14 with their nine month old twins.
You were close with your brothers growing up, well except for Justin. He's only three years older than you, but he never wanted to hang out with his "baby sister." Caleb never minded you, he picked on you, but that's what brothers are for right? Quinton, however, was the most protective. He was like a second dad, being ten years older than you.
Now, you're a 25 year old training for your dream job. Probably the most successful sibling. Well, Quinton and Justin are doing pretty well, but Caleb became depressed after his divorce few years back.
“Are you tired?"
You turn to Nina, looking up from your book you were hardly paying attention to. "Eh not really."
"We should go get ice cream."
"The cafeteria is closed and it's already 11, Nin. I don't particularly feel like having to run 3 miles for going out past curfew."
She sighs. "You're such a goody lame ass."
"Rude," you give them a pout. "I'm not that good."
"Aren't you? What have you done 'bad' in your life."
"I made out with a senior in the boys' locker room."
"Were you also a senior?"
"Then it's not that bad," she chuckles.
You turn your light off after tossing the book back on your desk.
"Goodnight innocent child."
"I hate you," you flip her off, even though she can't see it.
CM ADHD!Reader Fic Recs
Hey friends! Since this gets requested from me so often and I haven't written any, here is a list of headcanons and fics involving a Reader with ADHD for future reference. Everything is Spencer Reid unless marked otherwise.
If you write/already have a fic involving an ADHD!Reader, please let me know and I'll add it here!
One by @melanin-harry
Two by @ultrasweetnephilim
Three by @lotsoffandomimagines
Four by @letarasstuff
Five by @ultrasweetnephilim
Six by @ultrasweetnephilim
One by @donald4spiderman
Two [Hotch] by @hoe4hotchner
Let it Happen by @gubler-me-up: Spencer reacts to Reader's tics.
Overwhelmed [Luke, platonic] by @rachaelswrites: When Spencer's daughter gets too overwhelmed with school, Luke helps her get everything under control.
Unsolved by @taco-tubular: Reader hyperfixates on true crime/criminology. The BAU gets a particularly difficult case, which stresses you out. Reid notices.
Stimulants by @mortalfaerie: Reader hasn’t brought up her inattentive ADHD until Spencer notices the signs of adderall wearing off and asks Reader about it.
Everyday Routine by @dontshootmespence: Reader has a deadline.
*I don't have ADHD, so I can't speak to how accurate any of these are. My apologies if I inadvertently share something harmful.
Okay, just listen to me... I know there are a lot of Taylor Swift fans in the criminal minds fandom, and there are a lot of wonderful stories based on her music. But something I've never seen is a story imagining what someone like Taylor (you know, a superstar) would be like dating Spencer, the narration of that love through Taylor's songs and albums. But not like, a one-time thing, but a series, telling the story through time. Them meeting when they were young, around 20 years old, dating for a couple of years, then separating due to the difficulty in maintaining the relationship with their professions. And then they have a kind of on and off relationship (like the one narrated in "Style"). Going back to just friends when Spencer meets Maeve, and then friendship going back to being something more after everything they've been through... I could talk about this idea of mine for hours, and still tell how I imagine each song would fit together and the event that led to it being written.
If anyone knows of a story like this (with Spencer dating a super celebrity), I would be very happy with the link. If I had the courage I would write.
I can already imagine what it would be like based on Taylor's songs. I can imagine them meeting very young, following some of the songs from the first 3 CDs. Then the official breakup on "Red", with Spencer already in the BAU, and then their reunion on "1989". and "Taylor" going through the "reputation" phase just before Spencer goes to jail, and after that she comes with the "lover" era (because Spencer needs all the love after that). And finally them spending more time together and writing "folklore" and "evermore" together...
I can't stop thinking about it and imagine how some of the lyrics would fit into the story.
For No Good Reason
Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warnings - language, alcohol consumption, fingering, use of pet name (sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl), unprotected penetration, oral sex (female receiving), slight hair pulling, sorta dom!spencer and sorta sub!reader (lmk if i missed anything lmao)
Summary - A little jealousy never hurt anyone, especially not you.
Category - fluff, smut (18+) MINORS DNI
Word Count - 5.5k
A/N - sheesh my second smut fic, this one is supposed to be a little rougher than the last lmao. this is also unedited cuz writing this shit fried my brain, plz excuse my mistakes lmaooooo. also thank you to @samuel-de-champagne-problems for helping me and just being there to support me while i wrote this lmao, ily so much love! enjoy <333
join my taglist here!
A man of science.
That was who Spencer was.
He respected every religion and cultural belief, but he himself was one to believe in things he could see— things he could feel and touch and smell.
His beliefs were rooted in the tangible, things he could prove to be real.
That was… until he met you.
He could have sworn that you had descended from the sky right in front of him, a divine glow surrounding your body and a brilliant radiance that undulated from your addicting smile. Had he not been seated in his swivel chair, his knees would have given way and hit the floors in complete praise.
All his beliefs and theorems and empirical experiments were thrown out the window with one single glance in your direction, but not all of them were discarded.
Every day for months on end, he’d watch you in complete secrecy— scoping out your favorite things and routine so he could subtly become acclimated to your incandescence. Little did he know that hiding his borderline stalker behavior from you was the least of his problems, ironically forgetting that the nosiest person in the unit had access to all the security cameras.
Soon enough, Garcia confronted Spencer and blackmailed him into asking you out a good five months after you ended things with your ex-boyfriend. It was then that every single thing he knew before was useless in his clueless endeavor of navigating a relationship with you.
Everything was different with you, you accepted him for him no matter how talkative he was. Contrary to his former beliefs, he didn’t need to slowly introduce his quirks to you— you loved him and the weird and the bad and the good parts. That was when he realized that science was of no use to him anymore, not when the unfathomable fantasy became his treasured reality.
And as you turned into the parking lot of the rundown bar the team had chosen to converse in, illuminated by the headache-inducing neon lights, he felt the same malfunction in his mind. He was left speechless even by the simplest of things you’d do, one of the minor side effects of being in love with you.
Irresistible, he leaned over the center console as you parked the car and kissed your cheek gently— making his way down to your neck. You giggled, shaking your head in utter disbelief in his shenanigans.
“Spence,” you laughed, “Please…”
He mumbled something into your skin, continuing to attack you with hungry kisses and greedy hands.
“You can’t be doing this right as we’re about to go in for drinks with our friends.”
Unbothered, he pushed aside the hair covering your jaw with his hungry fingers. “Why not?”
“Because… I don’t want our colleagues to see all the hickeys you might leave if we continue,” you gasped as he reached the particularly sensitive part of your skin, gulping nervously as your resistance to his temptation waned.
“Well,” his breath spread across your ear as he nipped at it lightly, “They wouldn’t have to see anything if we had just stayed home like I so kindly suggested earlier.”
“Funny,” you huffed sarcastically, “This is the first time in a while that we finally get to spend time with our friends, not our colleagues. Can we have a night where we just hang out with them, please?”
You pushed him off gently, Spencer moving off the center console and slinking back into the passenger seat. His face had contorted into a sweet pout, pursing his lips like he always did when he didn’t get his way. You smiled at his defeatedness and leaned over to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek, a hint of red brushed across his sharp facial features.
“I promise,” you whispered into his ear, brushing his hair back with your fingers and tugging gently, “I’ll be all yours once this is over and you know I never break my promises… right?”
He nodded eagerly, meeting your lips for another kiss before quickly hopping out of the car. The sooner you left, the sooner he’d get his on you at home.
Spencer opened the car door for you, offering his hand for you to take as you stepped out. Before he let you leave his grasp, he brushed the pieces of your hair that covered your splendorous glow and kissed your face gently. A gentle smile graced his face, a look of love and admiration proudly worn.
You took his hand in yours, the two of you walking towards the glass doors. He looked around the bar, since he had the height advantage, spotting what looked to be Emily sitting at the bar with the rest of the team— minus Hotch, JJ, and Rossi.
He led you across the bar, holding you close against his body to keep you away from the prying hands of the monstrous drunks whose eyes you caught. With his hand planted on the small of your back, you reached the counter and called out to Emily who was nursing a large glass of margarita.
You exchanged your greetings, Spencer standing behind you with his eyes alert for any menace that might be coming your way. You were the apple of his eye and there was no way he was letting anyone dull your shine, at least, not with him around.
He pulled the stool out for you, sitting down on his own right next to you after ordering himself a club soda and your usual drink. You shook your head, ordering an iced water instead.
You were keeping yourself completely sober, something he was sure was in preparation for the amorous events that would come into fruition that night. Spencer could barely focus on the conversation that had grown to include the rest of the team, mesmerized by you and eagerly awaiting his imminent downfall as soon as the night was over.
You gave him a smile, his hand wrapping around your thigh to ward off anyone that would come to harass you. Even in the most deplorable of settings, as dark and musty as it was, you were always the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
You were God's way of showing that he was real, something to believe in.
It wasn’t until your name came up in the conversation did he finally tune in and temporarily mute his endless thoughts about you.
“I actually didn’t think you guys would come tonight,” Emily admitted, sipping her drink as Derek and Penelope nodded along, “And if we’re being honest? I sort of wish you hadn’t come.”
Spencer furrowed his brow. “Why?”
“The two of you were more than handsy when we got off the jet,” Derek shrugged.
“A- and,” Penelope hiccuped slightly from the copious amount of liquor she had already ingested, “And Y/N would come back with the wildest stories when she was still with, you know, A-D-A-M about the night before. So we were thinking that if you hadn’t come, she might come back tomorrow with some more.”
“What kind of stories?” He asked, turning to look at you.
You shook your head. “It was nothing, Spence. Really.”
“Do better, Reid,” Derek joked before dragging Emily and Penelope to the dance floor.
They left, allowing the two of you some privacy, he turned back to you. “What kind of stories?” He asked, a curious smile on his face.
You shrugged, “It’s really nothing, Spence.”
“I don’t think it’s ‘nothing’ if Penelope’s going on about it,” he laughed.
“You know her, she likes to gossip,” you giggled, amused by his dead-set intent on finding out what you told them about Adam specifically.
He raised his eyebrows at you, skeptical of your answer and what you were keeping from him. “So you won’t tell me about these stories?”
“Like I said,” you sighed, kissing him on the lips before you continued to ease him, “There’s nothing to tell. Plus, I like keeping you on your toes.”
You hopped off the stool, Spencer’s hand stopping you before you could walk any further from him. He pulled you back to him, your faces inches away from the other. His hand gripped your waist, a burning fire lit behind his eyes as you stared into them with a playful stubbornness.
“I love you,” you giggled, distracting him with a kiss before slipping out of his grasp and towards the dance floor with the rest of your friends.
He shook his head with a smirk on his face, watching you saunter off to Penelope who immediately grabbed your arms, rushing you into the horde of sweaty people to sway to some upbeat music.
His curiosity got the best of him, trying to think back to when you were still with Adam— digging up every single piece of information about him that you’ve ever told him. He couldn’t think of a single thing sexual in nature, which was his best educated guess on what the stories were about. A nagging feeling of jealousy spurred within him, he could’ve sworn that green began to creep up his neck.
According to your friends, these stories stopped when you and Spencer started something new. He didn’t think that your sex life was lacking in any way considering the sounds that came out of your mouth and the way you squirmed under him when he touched you.
But maybe what he was doing wasn’t on par with what Adam did, which only served to make him more envious. What was he missing?
You wouldn’t tell him?
That was fine.
He’d just have to find out for himself.
You got back from the dance floor, breathless, smiling wide and hopping into Spencer’s arms in utter bliss. You had a great time dancing and all you wanted was a kiss from him, but it appeared that he had something else in mind.
Gently pushing you off his lap, he called the rest of the team— stumbling drunk out of their minds— leading them to the cab he ordered. Confused, you stood quietly behind him and followed him towards the car.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he mocked your denying words you spoke earlier, opening the car door and closing it shut when you hopped in.
“Spencer,” you leaned over, caressing his face sincerely, “Is everything alright?”
He looked over, his darkened gaze and desirous expression washed away with a gentle smile. “I’m fine, I just wanted to go home.”
You nodded, slinking back into your seat and taking small glances in his direction every once in a while.
There was something off about, something he was hiding from you. It was apparent that the cogs in his brain were working on overdrive, his mind’s eternal churning working even faster than they were before. You couldn’t put your finger on the tension that filled the air around you, but your intuition was telling you it had to do with Adam.
It was a quiet drive, the silence keeping you from moving or speaking to him. You took a brave glance in his direction, his hands gripping the steering wheel and his jaw clenches slightly.
He was mad.
You figured it was because of what Penelope said; or rather, what you didn’t say.
The anger coursing through him was obvious, his veins in his hand and forehead more prominent than usual. You were anxious, shifting uncomfortably in your seat to which Spencer placed his hand on your knee.
Your eyes flicked to him immediately, the warmth of his hands radiating a sense of serenity in your callous waters. The tension in the air cleared up slightly but there was still something he wasn’t saying.
He parked in the parking garage, exiting the car and walking over to your side to open the door for you as he always did. Even when he was mad or upset, he still loved you and you knew that.
You couldn’t help but feel your heart beating at an untimely rate for some inane reason, a tightness in your chest almost sent you running.
The two of you made it up to the seventh floor, where your homely apartment resided. You walked in as soon as he stuck the key in the lock, waiting for him to say something… anything.
“What?” He questioned, looking at you with his brows strewn together after locking the door behind him.
You set your bags down, working up the courage to ask him what you had been dying to know since you left the bar.
“Nothing…” You trailed off.
He scoffed playfully, “‘Nothing’ seems to be your new favorite word. Isn’t that right, love?” The look in his eyes evolved to one of hunger, desire. Every single thing around you stilled, your pounding heart quieting amidst the new wave of tension that imbued into the air… one that was sexual.
“You really won’t tell me about these stories that Garcia seems to think so highly of?”
“It’s nothin-” you stopped yourself before you could give into his sly accusation, a smirk playing on his lips, “They’re not important, Spence.”
The two of you paused in a wave of uncertainty, wondering what you’d be doing next. Was it a fair move to forget about what happened and push it in the closet as your first and only skeleton, or was he adamant enough to push for a conversation of uncharted waters?
A moment of silence settled between you, his eyes scoping your body and quickly flicking to your lips before he pushed you against the closest wall. His hands cornered you in between the backing behind you as he pushed against you flush up against his body.
“Spencer… w- what um,” you gasped, the words unable to tumble from your lips like they usually did, “W- what are you doing?”
“I’m going to make you scream like he never did,” he admitted in a low hush, his lips working to close the distance between you. He connected with you, electrified by the contact and melting right into his touch. Your fingers tangled themselves in his messy curls, tugging like you did in the car earlier in the night.
He left one hand on the wall while the other traveled down your body aimlessly, feeling you up and down while they left burning fires in their wake. Not once did his lips disconnect, sucking and nipping at your skin as he desecrated your body in ways no one ever has.
He struggled to unbutton your blouse, his impatience getting the best of him right when he ripped your shirt off your body— exposing the lacy bra you wore just for him. He stopped to look at you, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and licking slowly.
A slight smile graced your face, reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. The useless garment slid down your arms, his jaw gone slack as he stared at your body ready for him to ravage. He stepped closer to you, his fingers brushing up the sides of your body painstakingly slow. You looked up at him with your pupils dilated, your tongue licking your lips as your gaze dripped with impatient longing.
Before you knew it, he was on you again. But this time, he wasted no time in taking everything off of you. His greedy hands pulled down your tight skirt along with your black underwear he had no interest in toying with like he usually did.
He caressed your thighs with his roaming hands, your skin raised with goosebumps. Butterflies roamed your stomach, his evocative moans of satisfaction from your responsive motions. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands grasping for his shirt while he licked at your sensitive skin.
There you were, your wet cunt laid bare in front of him as he attacked you from above— planting ravenous kiss after kiss on your neck all the way to the top of your breasts. Eventually, he began to toy with your nipples, taking one in between his teeth as your other breast was kept company by his hands. You couldn’t help but fling your head back against the wall, mouth wide open in pleasure from his hot breath on your body.
“Spencer,” you moaned, tugging at his hair to anchor yourself.
He laughed against your skin, leaving impassioned marks all around you. “You won’t tell me these stories of yours so I guess the only way I can find out is through process of elimination,” he chuckled, “I’ll do every single thing to you until you can’t even talk anymore, since you weren’t so keen on telling me anyways… understand?”
You huffed heavily, nodding while scrunching your face in bliss.
He slowly dropped to his knees, planting voracious kisses along your inner thigh. His hands snaked around your body to grab your ass, his breath ghosting over your pussy dripping with your arousal. He smiled into you, his bold tongue licking from your thigh until he reached your cunt.
He used two of his fingers to open your lips, sucking at your clit until all that could be heard were your pleas for mercy— taking the bundle of nerves in between his teeth gently and sending surges of energy up your body. Your hands grasped his curls, pushing him up forcefully as you craved the feeling of his tongue inside of you.
The vibrations of his cocky laughs made your knees buckle, the strength you had to stand disappearing just as quick as your clothes did. Your thoughts were clouded by the feeling of him beneath you, slowly raising one of your legs and setting it on his shoulder to allow him more access to your core.
You reached for anything around you to grab, lascivious moans and whines tumbling from your mouth. Your fingers felt for the bookshelf, knocking over a couple of his books in your pleasure-drunken state— grasping the wood in utter desperation.
He could taste every inch of you, your pussy throbbing around his tongue. He moaned into you, his hands leaving red scratch marks on your ass as he swirled his tongue inside of you.
You could feel your orgasm coming, unable to say anything aside from profane words and the name of the only man who rendered you speechless. He chuckled, knowing full well what he was doing to you and how close you were.
You opened your eyes, meeting his from below you. You could see the arrogant smile from the crinkle of his eyes, enjoying the noises that he elicited from you.
He gave into your frenzied race for fulfillment, slipping in two of his fingers and curling them upward to hit your g-spot. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face, grinding your cunt into his face as you strode towards your high.
Soon enough, you had come undone right on his fingers— his tongue moving to lap up your cum.
He stood up, his hands cupping your cheeks and placing soft kisses to your tear-stained, mascara-ridden face. He pouted, feigning sympathy as he pressed himself up against you— his painfully hard dick indenting your thigh.
“Are you okay?” He asked. Beneath his tough, angry exterior was still the tender man that loved you.
You nodded, placing your lips on his eager for more. He chuckled as you jumped up onto his body, carrying you into the room and tossing you on the bed. You sat up, leaning down on your elbows as your panting subsides, briefly.
He unbuttons his shirt slowly, letting the fabric hit the ground as his hands reached for his belt. He managed to unbuckle it, unzipping his pants that were uncomfortably tight around his erect dick. Your eyes widened, the breath from your lungs sucked out as you saw the outline of his cock straining against the confines of his underwear.
You heard his low, breathy chuckle, feeling a wave of heat wash over your cheeks. You couldn’t help but take another look at him, his body glistening under the dimmer lights of your room from his sweat. He pulled down his underwear, stepping out of the fabric bunching up at his ankles and walking over to the bed.
You were antsy from the anticipation, your eyes glued to his dick that glistened from the precum conjured by your harmonic laments.
“Turn around,” he whispered, to which you obliged— waiting on your hands and knees for him to take you.
His hands grasped your hair, using it to pull your head back gently as your exposed neck was left for him to conquer. You whined at the feeling of his tip brushing up against your wet pussy, stuck in a state of waiting as he teased you some more by sliding himself between your lips without pushing himself in.
“Spencer…” you breathed, his wet breath tickling your neck and his impudent smile plaguing your thoughts, “Please, I need you.”
“Is that right?” He laughed huskily, “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Adam instead?” He knew what he was doing to you, entertained by your intense ardor for him— not anyone else. With one hand still in your hair, the other slid up your back and around to your tits.
“Are you sure you want me? Because I can go and let you-”
“No!” You screamed, pushing yourself up against his dick, “Please, Spencer. I need you.”
He smiled, placing kisses on your neck and cheek before whispering in your ear, “Say it again, sweet girl.”
You turned your head to look at him, eyes half-lidded in ecstasy. “I need you… and only you.”
He groaned into your ear, content with your answer. You could feel him position himself at your entrance, his hands that were once around your breasts were gone— used to give himself a few pumps before pushing himself inside you.
You whined at his size, leaning your head backwards as he began to thrust into you slowly. His hand was still stuck in your hair, tugging with every snap of his hips.
You took him in inch by inch, your cunt clenching around him from the sensitivity left by your last high. The lewd sound of your bare ass slapping against him filled the room, your bed frame banging against the wall as your neighbors were no doubt groaning into their pillows in order to block the vulgar noise being produced.
“Spence…” you moaned, feeling every bit of him hit the deepest parts within you. Your body was electrified, every single cell inside you shaking with excitement and nearly bursting with pleasure. Your hands grasped at the sheets, your knuckles stark white as you tried to make up for the uncontainable feeling of miraculous rapture blooming in your chest.
Spencer leaned forward to give your kisses along your shoulder, his unrelenting pace rendering your mind useless as the words were wrung out of your brain. His hand granted your hair liberation, instead holding you upright knowing that you were using your ability to hold yourself up was fading.
Eventually, your strength gave way, your face landing on the plush bedding as he continued to fuck you into oblivion. Out of courtesy for your neighbors and an inkling of embarrassment, you bit your lip to keep your rolling cries dormant.
His hands wandered around your body, feeling the way your body reacted to the feeling of his dick.
It was then that he realized why he loved the tangible. As much as he adored the idea of hope and belief in a higher being, there was always something that held him back on earth.
There was nothing that wasn’t real about you, being able to know that you were 100% veridical.
For so long you had been the subject of his dreams, but now his dreams had become a fateful reality he indulged himself in every single day. How good were fantasies if they were just that, a fantasy?
You were real. You were his. Every stroke inside you, every euphoric moan he elicited proved as much.
“I want to hear you,” he wrapped your hair around the palm of his hand, pulling the both of you up so you were standing on your knees, “I want to hear you tell me who makes you feel this way.”
You whined, head resting on his shoulder as he continued to pound into you with the little space he had to move.
His fingers traced the marks he left on your neck that had deepened into a dark purple color, each touch of his finger tips sending a cocktail of chemicals straight to your brain.
“Y- y- I-” you stuttered, struggling to speak coherently, “I-”
“What’s wrong?” He teased, your body squirming under his touch, “Can’t speak?”
“Sp- Spencer,” you sputtered, “Y- you.”
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.” His finger found its way back to your clit, moving in small agonizing circles.
He was making it even harder for you to think, to speak. You could barely focus on what he was doing, let alone focus on his questions. All you could think about was the way he was making you feel.
Every single moment that led up to your sexual endeavors were long forgotten, the only thing in the forefront of your mind was him. The way he slammed into you with every inch of himself buried inside you, every moan and call of your name filling your ears and making your heart flutter.
His tempestuous pace left you exposed and bare, not just your body but your heart. You were his and he needed to be reminded of the fact, lost in the fog of jealousy and envy of your ex. It wasn’t the same and it would never be the same.
Spencer was different in every way.
“You,” you moaned, burying your face deeper into his neck from the unbearable buzz of passion, “Y- you make me feel this way. O- only you, Spence. Only you…”
An all-consuming lust filled his once bitter green heart. Satisfied with your words, he pulled out gently— a small petulant whine coming from you.
“Don’t worry, love,” he laughed at your fervor, “I’m not done just yet.”
You nodded as he turned your around slowly, laying you down onto the bed with your back against the blankets wet with sweat. He brought his fingers up from the bottom of your stomach, leaving light red marks with his nails before touching your face lovingly.
The jealousy had dispersed, replaced with the same sweetness present at the beginning of the night. He slid into you again, the resistance he felt in the beginning long gone as the remnants of your last orgasm slicking your throbbing pussy.
Your moans mixed together with his hips hitting your thighs, his face pressed against your as he tried to muffle his growing volume through wet kisses and hungry nips.
You fit perfectly together, every one of your dips and crevices filled with his body.
Spencer developed a steady rhythm, thrusting himself into you with a force driven by his burning love and desire to satisfy you. Every stroke of his dick caused your back to arch more and more, his eyes mesmerized by the movement of your tits and the way you buried your face into the pillows.
He rocked in and out of you, your walls clenching around him after every in and out. The kisses and nips and licks were endless, your body never catching a break from his merciless lips.
The smell of your shampoo and feel of your body flush up against his overrode all his senses, he lost all control and inhibition he worked to maintain. The sensation of you around him coupled with the crude sound of your moans and his dick slipping in and out of you was almost enough to send him over the edge.
Quickening his speed, he gripped onto you harder than he had before. The whole bed shook with the driving force of his cock inside you, your screams of pleasure growing louder and heightening the ripples of passion.
Spencer’s movements faltered, his dick twitching inside of you as he filled you up with his cum. He laid on top of you panting for the air that he refused to let in as he lost all control.
He looked up slightly, your eyes still closed from the endless feelings of ecstasy. He used his hand to tilt your head towards him.
“One more time, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You can do it just one more time.”
You shook your head. “I- I can’t, Spence. I-”
“Yes, you can. You’re so so close,” his hand moving to touch your face lightly, “I know you can. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
You nodded, still completely inebriated from your imminent orgasm. “Yours,” you whispered breathlessly.
“Good,” he smiled, pulling out of you slowly. He tried to comfort you as you winced at the feeling, distracting you with kisses up and down your neck and shoulder.
His fingers caught the cum that threatened to spill out of you, pushing it back in and using it to slick his fingers as he entered you.
You gasped, your hands grappling at his back and tugging at his tangled curls from the mixture of pain and pleasure. Your lips connected with his, your tongue slipping into his mouth as he curled his fingers inside you.
You gasped, pulling away from him in order to throw your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes as you took in the euphoric feelings radiating from your core. The tell-tale knot in your stomach formed after Spencer decided to tamper with your insanity— using his thumb to rub your clit which seemed to double your pleasure.
The tingles that came from his touch ricocheted across your body as you felt every inch of you transcended physical pleasure. The look on your face, the sounds that came from your— every part of you— was his proof, his evidence that you were his.
You thrust your hips up into his hand, his fingers fucking you with no clemency or sympathy. He defiled you, the once gorgeous angel that descended from heaven in his eyes became putty in his hands with a single touch.
The room spun in the midst of your disorienting thoughts, your breath captured by his carnal tendencies. Soon enough, you came undone in a spasm of pure, unadulterated lust— the aftermath of his jealousy and your playful teasing came to an end as you came down from your high.
He placed loving kisses on your forehead and brushed the hair off your face, reaching over for a tissue on your nightstand. He wiped you off, continuing to plant kiss after kiss as you recovered from his voracious takings.
He laid down across from you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to his chest.
“Jealous much?” You giggled, playing with his hair in between your fingers.
He cleared his throat, shifting as you moved out of his grasp and onto his chest. “N- no…”
You giggled, kissing him tenderly, “It’s alright if you were, I’m not complaining.”
He chuckled along with you, the same admiration for you still stuck in his chest. “I was um, I was a bit,” he admitted, “I just- you don’t talk about us at work and I guess that just made me insecure about this part of our relationship… the sex part?”
“Spence,” you sighed, “I don’t talk about this part of our relationship at work because I don’t want to embarrass either of us.”
“Not because I’m too boring for you?”
You shook your head, placing your lips on every part of his face until he turned bright red. “No, of course not. You are anything but boring, Dr. Reid.”
“I just want to be enough for you,” he pouted, pressing his lips into a thin line and wrapping his arms around you tighter than before— afraid that holding you any less would result in his very own angel disappearing before his eyes.
“You are more than enough,” you chuckled at his needy behavior after you were the one that had their brains fucked out, “You were worrying for no good reason.”
“So…you’ll start telling those stories again?”
You laughed, “Do you want me to?”
“Of course,” he sat up, a playfully serious expression on his face, “I want them to know everything.”
“Alright,” you giggled.
He leaned forward, whispering into your ear and taking you flush up against his body once again, “The ins and the outs, everything…”
“Spencer,” you yelled as he attacked you with kisses, his fingers brushing up against your side to tickle you beneath him.
Maybe there was a threshold for him, a happy balance between belief and the tangible— but all he knew was that you were the impossible, his impossible.
A dream and a reality wrapped up in one.
@meganskane @lil-stark @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reidsbookclub @mrsobrien888 @mess-in-side @draw-back-your-bow @ssa-uglywhore27 @lhhluvr @averyhotchner @spookydrreid @nomajdetective @exhaleli @ssahotchslover @bohemianrhapsody86 @citylights31 @baubaes @pastelbabygirl19 @happymangospot @alexxavicry @malboroniightz @sunset-styles @reidsplaytoy @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @thepolywrites @raybutcool @gublerscherry @matthewgraygublerwife @vxnuette @reidsmilf @sharedmoon @reidsacademia @whoresrarelysink @coldlilheart @sandalwoodreid @sia2raw @spencerreidat3am @safespacespence
join my taglist here!
Brilliant Doctor Daddy Unit Chief Reid
Summary: Spencer gets a visit from his wife and daughters on his first day at his new job
Could you write a fic where Spencer became a unit chief and his wife (bau!reader) is super proud of him.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)
Content Warning: sexually implicit content
Word Count: 2.1k
Being Unit Chief wasn't a thought that had ever occurred to Spencer. He'd joined the team when Hotch was in charge, then Morgan in the interim, JJ for a short period, and then Emily. It had never been a problem for him to work under them. The team had forever operated with everyone's opinions being weighted equally. The Unit Chief just had the additional responsibility of an atrocious amount of paperwork.
He didn't even think he would be suggested for the position when Emily became the director of the FBI. JJ had taken the job in New Orleans, Garcia had her new job, Rossi finally decided to retire, and suddenly Spencer had been on the team for the longest. Initially, he thought it would be Luke, Tara, or Matt, but they picked him.
Y/n was the person who had to convince him to take the job. She knew he was worried about the even longer hours, but she knew it was what he loved. Plus, no one could do paperwork faster than him, and the Bureau had approved the hire of a media liaison, so he didn't have to pick the cases too. No one knew Spencer as well as she did, and she knew it was something he wanted deep down.
The day that Emily's things were finally cleared out, Spencer insisted on staying late to arrange his stuff and ordered Y/n to go home- something he could now that he was her boss-
She intended to do something to celebrate the day he officially became the BAU's Unit Chief. Her plans were foiled when two little girls realized why their Daddy wasn't home.
In their best dresses- matching sleeveless purple satin dresses with puffy skirts and a big bow on the back-, the two excitedly stood in the elevator with their mother. The girls were close to bouncing up and down when the elevator made it to the 6th floor.
Their beeline was interrupted by the oldest's godmother, or fairy godmother as they both called her. "Princesses!" Penelope exclaimed, bending down and opening her arms widely. The girls jumped into her arms, giving her a hug.
"What are you doing here, P?" Y/n asked, knowing she hadn't worked there for five months. Penelope stood up to give her a quick hug.
"Luke." She explained, shaking her head. "That idio- smart man who I love." She cut herself off, remembering the girls were there. "Left his passport here. And you can't get into London without a passport." She said, looking at the girls, who were nodding like they understood international travel.
Y/n saw through what Penelope said. After all, they'd been friends for 10 years. "You wanted to see Boy Wonder, didn't you?"
Penelope sheepishly nodded. "I had to tell him how proud of him I was in person. Before Luke and I left."
Y/n smiled at the couple's relationship and the fact Penelope instinctively smiled when she talked about him. "From what Luke's been saying around here, it sounds like it's going to be great." He had not stopped talking about it, discussing the surprises he had lined up for Penelope across the ocean.
"Can you get us presents?" Her goddaughter asked, grinning at her sister and showcasing her missing teeth.
Y/n chuckled while shaking her head. As if they didn't get enough presents from her whenever they saw her. Even the dresses they were wearing were gifts from Penelope, handmade by a friend of hers.
"Of course, my lovelies." Penelope agreed, squeezing the girls tighter again. "They have lots of delicious chocolates and candy, and I'll bring them all back for you." She assured them.
"Not too much, Penelope," Y/n warned, sternly staring at her so she'd follow the instruction.
Defeated, she nodded. "I do have to go, but I promise to visit as soon as we get back." She said, holding out her pinky finger to wrap around the girls'. With another hug and one for Y/n, she was stepping into the elevator and waving to them.
"Love you, Auntie Penelope!" The girls cheered as the doors closed.
Once she was gone, they were back on the mission to find their father. Racing each other, they sprinted past the glass doors and into the bullpen. Immediately, they noticed something was off when they reached his desk. Not only was their father not there, but none of his stuff was either. Their mom's desk still had framed photos of their family and drawings they'd done.
"He got Auntie Emily's office as well as her job," Y/n announced to them. It only took them a few seconds to figure out where to go, flying up the stairs and swinging the door open. She couldn't help but laugh as she followed.
When Y/n walked in, Spencer was already bent down to hug them. "Hi!" He exclaimed, hauling them up. Siena in his right arm and her older sister, Venice, in his left, as he rested them against his hip. Both nuzzling into his side "What are you doing here?" His eyes flicked up to meet Y/n's.
The room was different than when it was Emily's. He'd gotten them to repaint it light blue because he insisted it was a calming color. The red leather chair that used to be in Gideon's office was there as well, along with a chess set on the coffee table. There were photos not only on the desk but the cabinets behind it and a smaller desk near the couch with shorter chairs, paper, and coloring pens.
"They twisted my arm," Y/n answered, looking at the girls and wondering how so much mischief could be in a 5 and 7-year-old.
Both of their cheeky grins matched their father's, as did the brown curls down their shoulder. They were both intelligent like their parents, too, most definitely too clever for their own good.
Spencer knew too well about how persuasive they could be. The week prior, Y/n had to stop him from selling their house to move to a ranch in Wyoming. All because Venice went horse riding and wanted a pony. Spencer had been wrapped around their fingers for 8 years and Y/n's for 3 before that.
"You two are good at that, aren't you?" Spencer asked, bouncing them up and down while they giggled. "And you wore your pretty dresses." He commented, turning to place a kiss on their cheeks. "Thank you so much for coming to see me."
Siena cupped her hands around his ear to loudly whisper a secret to him. "We want to see you because we're proud of you." She pulled back with a grin, kicking her feet up and down excitedly.
In his other ear, Venice was doing the same thing. "And because you're the best Daddy in the world."
Spencer couldn't stop grinning between the two girls and his wife. The idea of family had never been something he thought he could have. It was a concept warped from his childhood. Something he never thought he could have or even wanted until he met Y/n at 26. Now he had it all, and none of the bad days were as bad.
It made Y/n beam when she looked at him. She'd seen him sad more times than she would have liked to. But with his daughters, he was always happy.
"What do you think of the office?" Spencer asked them, spinning around while he held them so they could look at his things. He had more room for his personal objects in there, and it was almost as decorated as Penelope's Batcave back in the glory days.
Venice pointed to a spot on the wall. "You need artwork there, Daddy."
"Maybe you could do one for me?" Spencer suggested, earning a big nod from his daughter.
"Does Mommy get to work in here too?" Siena asked, realizing there was only one desk.
He smirked while looking straight at Y/n, and she knew he was about to answer cheekily. "No, she's still got to work out there." He said, pointing out the blinds to her desk. "Because I'm her boss now." He said in anticipation of the next question.
"But she's still the boss at home?" Siena clarified.
"Don't forget that." Spencer reminded her with faux strictness. "Do you want to do some coloring?" He offered, putting the two of them down. The office clearly didn't interest them as much as the coloring table he had already set up.
With their attention occupied, Spencer made his way over to his wife. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands drift down until they were resting on her ass. He pulled her body right onto his, where it perfectly fit. His lips were on hers just as quickly, as deep and passionate as usual. It had never wavered in the years they were together, always making her stomach erupt in butterflies.
Y/n broke the kiss with a smile, her arms still around his neck as they stood together. Her heels made it slightly easier for her to meet his eye line, giving her the best view of his God-like bone structure.
"Missed me that much, Doctor Reid?" She joked, gazing into his sweet brown eyes. They were always lighter when he was happy, with flickers of gold. He was always so warm to be close to as well.
"Yes, always." He replied before adding, "Mrs. Reid." A name that she would never get sick of hearing.
She played with the messy curls on the back of his head. "We are so proud of you, you know?" She reminded him. "The most brilliant Doctor Daddy Unit Chief Reid."
"That's a mouth full." Spencer quipped, sending her another bright smile. He looked down at where their hips were resting together. "You know what I've always wanted to do?"
Y/n caught onto what he meant, promptly smacking him on the chest. "Shh, your daughters are in the room."
"So, if they weren't, you'd be on your knees for me?" Spencer whispered, keeping his voice low both because it was sensual and because it meant the girls couldn't hear.
She hated him and his ability to find any loophole, but she knew how to tease him just as much. "You'll just have to find out on Monday."
Spencer threw his head back with a groan. "I have always wanted to take you over that desk." He mentioned, tossing a glance over his shoulder.
"What, the supply closet, your office at university, and the bathroom wasn't hot enough?" She questioned, amused by him.
The tight squeeze on her ass gave her an answer. "The round table room, though." He added to the list of their sexcapades. It was probably their riskiest and definitely the most fun.
"It's kind of a miracle we haven't been caught yet." She realized with a frown.
Spencer shrugged. "It wouldn't stop us." She knew that much was more than true. He took his eyes off hers for a moment and turned his head to look at the girls. "Why did you really bring them?" He could always tell if there was something more to a story with her.
"No reason." She replied, trying to look innocent. It never worked with him. "They just wanted to."
But he knew what would work. "Girls?" Their eyes were quickly on him. "Why did you want to come here?"
"Mommy has to buy you dinner because you got a new job," Siena revealed before going back to her coloring with her sister.
"And she didn't get you a present," Venice added, unaware of the congratulations Y/n had given him four nights in a row.
"Is that so?" Spencer questioned, amusement written all over his features when he turned back to look at her.
Sheepishly, Y/n smiled at him before moving her hand slowly down his chest. Spencer frowned, darting his eyes between her and the girls to make sure she remembered who else was in the room until she slipped it into his pocket. She pulled it out a moment later, along with his wallet. Spencer still looked confused at what she was doing, but she just smirked in explanation.
Leaning up, she placed another kiss on his lips, distracting him while she took out his credit card. "Alright, girls, who's ready to go to dinner?"
"Me!" They both cheered, getting out of their seats while Y/n pulled away from Spencer.
"Hey, that's not exactly buying me dinner," Spencer exclaimed, following her and the girls out of his new office.
Tell me what you think
@anonymous-reading @bingereid @measure-in-pain @archer561 @la-vie-en-amour1 @cynbx @spencers-dria @hardpartybasketballshepherd @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mrsobrien888 @parahmur @averyhotchner @honkroselyn @randomwriter1021 @bunnyweasley23 @rebeccasoutlook @teenwaywardasgardian @bubb1eana1ee @icequeen6666 @are-y0u-sirius @psychomanias @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @jswessie187 @k-gallacher @morganwilliams @vaella1821 @ndubes04 @juneballoon999 @tiaras-amongst-trash @onceinadifferentdimension @criminal-reid @yikesyikesyikes95 @80strashbag @ilovespencerreidmarryme @citylights31 @ssavanessa22 @thedancingnerdmermaid @doctorspenceryeet @camreid @canadailluminate @lethpartridge @ssagube @spencerreid-mgg @nightlockcornucopia @allexthakatt @silverhetdanes @aperrywilliams @g-l-pierce @reidswhoree @beepbooptoop @silverhetdanes @kyanyakya @katiejozeisler @matthewwhore @megnotfound @80strashbag @mrsobrien888 @morganwilliams @j-cat @440mxs-wife @hueycat2004 @gspenc @icurasthefallenangel @iheartspence @ssavanessa22 @bisexual-virgin @thecraziestcrayon @katesreading @cance1medaddy @kuolonsyoja @alexlovescriminalminds @kahootlobbymusic @nomajdetective @idonotexiste @drayshadow @justalittleweirdoo @a-little-bit-of-everything19 @spencesscarf @lhhluvr @holding-on-to-my-youth @averyhotchner @mugi-chwan95 @gspenc @navs-bhat @idkbubs @mochionly @nessy-nygma @nani-2305 @casfellinlovewithhumanity @shinyanchorface @nbyrd390 @drayshadow @hot-dino-nuggies @averyhotchner @simonsbluee @collectiveuniverses @meggie-m00n @allthecolorsneverseen @sassymoon @nomajdetective @exmachina187 @exhaleli @lucymfer @stumbleonmywords @reeid @hopefullawyerfishprofessor @graktung @sir1usblacksgf @pinkcoffeecup @luckyladycreator2 @fairyellieee @malboroniightz @kateyee @corefleur @maybe-not-this @starrylang @citylights31 @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @ssa-uglywhore27 @kitkatkaitin @rocketxgirl @navs-bhat @bellarkeselection @strugglingtodoshit @joy-soul-gallery @venomsvl @harry-is-my-sunflower @luckyladycreator2 @egglantine23 @holding-on-to-my-youth @misselsbells06 @starrylang @lokisel @gryffi-ndor @lilibet261@idkbubs @slutalexis46 @glimmering-darling-dolly @kodiakwhiskey @rocketxgirl @mochionly @goldentournesol @xdsage @missusstark @spaceygirly1 @holding-on-to-my-youth @insomniacbeth @nbyrd390 @shirleyrose @airedale17 @tanyaherondale @buckys-estrella @geekykeen @lovingsherlockmolly @rory-cakes @muwun-blossom @jetblckdreams @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @reidsbookmark @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @idfvc @sammypotato67 @tanyaherondale @1-800-brain-and-heart @stcrrjoon @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @wholesome-beans @frickin-bats @chaoticevilbakugo @goldeng1rl8 @arrowurboat @itzyourgurlnihya @belongwithreid @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @spencer-reids-mismatched-socks @addievermore @harrymybelovedd @chimpmunk @i3k2ts @axen-gers @gxrlwithluv @finny-of-the-rear @greengarsstuff @altsvu @jakiki94 @narryl0ver @justreadingficsdontmindme @hobireasns @goldentournesol @kbakery @kaitieskidmore1 @happymangospot @devilslilbabysblog / @bunny-script / @pauline5525mgg @fanf1ctionwrit1n @j-cat @captainhotchner @ceeellewrites / @randommmguerr / @sinnxagain /
@reidsbookclub @gublerstwilight @k-k0129 @spookyspence @eevee0722 @iamreallytryingiswear @dontcallmekittens @gublur @countingthestarsinfinitely @xhopingthis-worksx @claryandjacelover @spencersjello @mikewizkalifa @actingchica @almost-a-ladybug @foodsarcasmandyou @illegallygingerr @darkacademicwhore @uhuhuh @alexxavicry @probablycryingg @awkwardnesshabitat @black-veil-baby @uwu-queen-420 @one-sweet-gubler @whovianayesha @buckys-doll17 @gubedawnreid @parahmur @whovianayesha @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @kierstiniscrying @simonsnowsblog @usuck @geekykeen @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @sexy-dumpster-fire @j4sephluv @sophneedsfandoms @asantos7783 @hotchandspencearedilfs @kitkatkaitin @allthingsfashionn @spideyjass @sammypotato67 @dimpledsmilex3 @vincentvanshoe @nervous-plant @safespacespence @agirlinherhead @maraudersminds @hopelesslystuc @bakugouswh0r3 @ilovespencerreidmarryme @elnmop @ah-blossom @bellam47 @matthewgraygublerlover @liltiana-ann @happypixy380 @aaija @arrowurboat @reidsonlyangel @xreaderandshits @alohastitch0626 @sydneekomspacekru
And I’ll Do Anything That You Say (If You Say It With Your Hands) (+18)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader (no pronouns, but referred to as a girl/woman)
Warnings: Smut-- emotional sex, dirty talk, unprotective sex, oral (female receiving), use of good girl. Angst with a Happy Ending, an unhealthy amount of Taylor Swift references, post Maeve
Summary: Spencer and Reader are forced to share a room, but can't resist falling into old patterns, even though it's dangerous and just might break them.
Category: Angsty Smut with a Happy Ending (NO MINORS)
Word Count: 6.4 K
Cards Chosen: Library (Season 10), Revolver (Requited/Unrequited Love), Hotch (One Is Never Enough)
Author's Note: Nat!! OMG!! Words really don't do you justice. You are an amazing person through and through. I love interacting with you on here. You make my day so much better. Love you to the moon and to Saturn forever and always @reidslibrarybook. And a very big thank you to @sleepyspencer & @spencerslibrary for being a beautiful betas <3
And I’ll Do Anything That You Say (If You Say It With Your Hands)
You couldn’t be anything but enamored with him. Even though you shouldn’t be anymore.
Enchanted by his integrity, the way he always does the right thing. Captivated by his soft brown eyes, you never thought that eyes could be kind before you met Spencer. Swept away by his intelligence, how just being around him made you feel smarter than you could ever dream.
You don’t dream of him whispering sweet promises in your ear or holding hands in the grocery line. You don’t dream of making the miserable magical, you can only think of the heartbreak, the pain, the annihilation that he would scar you. If you let yourself slip, if you let him carry you away on a white horse, you’d never come back the same.
So, as long as you don’t cross that invisible line, you’re in the clear. You’ll love him from afar. From a distance where you can’t get hurt. But, in the same token, is loving him from afar loving him at all?
All that separates you is the floor between your two beds. Maybe if you concentrate you’d be able to hear his breathing. You know you can’t sleep and neither can Spencer. His ghostly form, covered in the cheap motel sheets doesn’t move, but you’ve slept in enough motels with him only ten feet away to know when he’s not sleeping.
“Spence,” you whisper, hushed tones in the dark.
“Y/N,” he whispers back. You shouldn’t like the way your name sounds on his lips, how inviting and warm and natural it sounds coming from him.
“I can’t sleep,” you say, your hollow, tired voice echoing in the motel room. Spencer’s bed creaks as he turns to face you. The moonlight dips into the room, making his face glow. His eyes, trained on you, are a blaze of fire, “I can never sleep without…”
“Neither can I,” he finishes, knowing all too well what you were going to say because he feels it too.
The silence in the motel room has never been so loud. You lay on your respective beds, just ten feet apart. Neither of you dare to be the first to make the move, even though you desperately want to. Scratch that, need too.
You’ll betray yourself millions of times if it means he’ll hold you like he could love you one. For now, you’ll cling to the possibility, even if it makes you a traitor, even if it will, one day, be your downfall. All because the falling is too good to resist. Spencer Reid, and his warm brown eyes and his soft smile and sweet dispositions, will be your downfall.
Surprisingly, Spencer is the one to get out of bed. For a second, you let yourself think that he’s pulled to you just as you are pulled to him. He turns down the covers, slipping into the cool sheets. Spencer’s hair is messy from nearly two hours of tossing and turning before you both give into the rush of being close. You like it like that. It looks like you’ve run your hands through it. You love feeling his soft curls in the palm of your hand and wish it wouldn’t kill you to feel it again.
“How long have you not been sleeping?” you whisper, involuntarily opening your arms for Spencer to fold himself into. His face is inches from yours, laying there on the same pillow. You have to keep the distance between you two. You can lay here as long as your lips don’t touch. As long as there’s that uncharted territory you don’t succumb to.
“A really long time,” he answers, the no man’s land between your lips and Spencer’s lips growing shorter and shorter and you breath in and out.
“Ever since that night,” Spencer clarifies, his arms pulling you close so your front is flush against his. You’re reminded of that night when you slept alone in the cold bed feeling empty and hollow. The nights, as it turned out, were the hardest to get over. In a strange way, you are comforted by knowing that Spencer missed you in the same way that you missed him. How you missed falling asleep to the steady sound of his breathing, how you craved the weight of his arms, and how you longed to wake up to his head buried in your neck.
“Me too,” you reveal, feeling like you’re spilling your darkest secrets to the one person who you shouldn’t be, “I miss you. I miss us,”
You should be wary, wary of the haunted, desired look he gives you. You shouldn’t let yourself get lost in the daydream and the promise of a sequel. It would be smart to turn away, to run away from the hungry desire that gnaws at your heart. But he’s quicksand, one look and he’s swallowing you whole. One look and you can see yourself so clearly twisted in bedsheets.
“I never stopped missing you,” he whispers, his hands moving from your upper half to ghost up your arms. His thumb, the calloused skin rough, brushes your hair out of your eyes, “I’ll always love you, even if it kills me,”
“Love shouldn’t hurt,” you tell him, speaking to yourself more than to Spencer. You both need to hear it again and again until the world loses all semblances of meaning. You’ll say it so often until it becomes a watered down, diluted mixture of sounds and syllables. Meaningless and empty.
Someone so beautiful shouldn’t be this dangerous.
“Not being able to love you hurts more than loving you,” Spencer says. You close your eyes as his thumb grazes your eyelids. You hold your breath, but you can still smell his ivory soap and peppermint shampoo. You close your eyes, but you can still see him smiling in your mind’s eye. You try to resist, but you give in, knowing he’ll forever be the one you want.
There’s a time for words. Not now though, now is for doing. Now is for reaching out across No Man’s Land even though it’s reckless and dangerous. Now is for looking danger in the eye and trudging forward even though you’ll end up scarred. You can’t decide if getting swept away is a choice, but the sound of his voice ricochets around the room. You cling to the hope that the spark hasn’t died out yet. And that passion and love and desire are strong enough to keep it aflame for even one more night.
Spencer’s hand puts the tiniest bit of pressure against the back of your head. He’s letting you decide if this is what you actually want or if you are both letting yourselves get swept up in the intensity of being so close after holding each other at arm's length for so long. It’s the kind of love that’s stubborn like grease on a stovetop. No amount of friction could keep you away from him.
You’re kissing him again. Kissing the man you never imagined you would have a last kiss with. Kissing Spencer again after the eight month drought is picking up where you left off. His teeth nibble at your bottom lip, tugging as he kisses away the numb tingle. You sigh into his embrace, feeling for the first time in a very long time completely at peace. You fall back into the familiar rhythm. Just two souls searching for something to fill their empty hearts.
You wonder that, when this ends, if it ends, will you be left with the saccharine artificial taste of regret? Will your heart still ache for him even though his kisses fade and the sweet nothings whispered where as paper thin? Despite it all, despite every fiber in your being screaming at you to stop while you are at it, you don’t.
You kiss him back with enough fervor and intensity to match him. Grabbing at the bottom of his thermal sleeping shirt, you pull it up over his head, making a mess of his perpetually messy hair. He’s agreeable, letting you peel off his shirt. He turns on the mattress so his arms hover over you like a protective shield. Together, you form a delicate bubble. It’s so fragile that you know any sudden movement will pop it. Sending the once strong shield to the ground. But in the bubble, your defenses are down. All you are is skin and bone, fated to fall apart.
“Oh, god,” Spencer groans, his hands sliding down to your shirt, “I fucking missed this,” he curses, his lips, soft and pliant move across yours as he talks. You can taste his minty toothpaste, how sweet and cool it is. It’s familiar in an eerie way. You’re reminded just how easy it is to fall into old habits.
His hands, as the claw at the hem of your shirt, are cold against your skin. Spencer’s hands are always freezing, you remember warming them up in between him back when touching him was as natural as breathing. It still is, but at what cost.
“Spence,” you cry out, begging him with just his name to do something, anything. You rest on your elbows, letting him take your shirt off so you’re both left in only bottoms, “Spencer,” you plead, chasing the minty sweetness from his lips. Panting, you lean back against the headboard, hoping that the walls aren’t as thin as other cheap motels.
The moonlight drips in from the slits in the blinds. You let out bated breath, internally trying to calm yourself down as Spencer’s hands graze up your arm till he reaches your face. He holds your face in his palm as gently as he did all those year ago. You stare at each other, eye to eye. And even though he’s so close, his face, his unfortunately beautiful face, grows out of focus. You’re sure it’s because you’re dizzy from the anticipation of having him again.
“Shhh,” Spencer says, his voice wavering as he whispers, “I still think about you,”
And with that, Spencer’s fingers leave your chin, tingling down as he drags them down your chest. His touch brings forth everything pleasurable in this world. You’re back to the old games again; the games that left you empty and alone. But there’s that little voice in your head telling you Spencer’s worth it.
The voice, however, goes silent as his nimble hands drag down your pajama pants. His eyes, always so kind and shy, meet yours as he continues to undress you. You aren’t a reckless person. You don’t do silly things that you’ll regret in the morning. You’re a don’t-drink-on-Sundays kind of person.
And yet, you knot your hands in Spencer’s hair, satisfied with yourself when he moans as you tug. The one thing that’s good about hooking up with your ex, is knowing what he likes. You bottoms bunch at your feet so you kick them off, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Spencer, who’s grown quiet, places his hands on your hips, letting his cold hands rest against your flushed skin.
His fingers brush over your underwear that grows damp at his steady attention and tiny touches. Spencer’s hand, wrapping around your upper thigh, holds you still as he toys with you. You close your eyes, breathing in shakily, and let the pleasure from Spencer’s knowing fingers engulf your body. He presses kisses into the soft skin of your thighs. You aren’t sure if his kisses are new promises or old apologies. Do they mean something or is he just doing this because he knows you like it?
Oh how you wish it could be different. But it has to be this way. There’s nothing you can do about it. He’s your Achilles Heel. You’re fated to love him forever, he’s fated to love someone else. So much for the fall, for the rush of being someone’s someone.
“Still so responsive,” Spencer remarks, his fingers dancing across your hips. Sometimes you envied his memory. You were jealous that he could remember all the good times you made together. You wish you could commit the way his eyebrows knit together when he concentrates or his zealous excitement at sharing the world’s secrets with you. There was nothing sweeter than being his, “Just like I remember,”
“Spencer.” All you can manage is his name, but you say it like a prayer. You cling to the sounds of his name. Hold on to the syllables that form his name. You thread your fingers through his hair, marveling at the sight before you.
He pulls down your underwear, tugging at the elastic waistband. You’re bare to him, completely naked compared to his pajama bottoms. Spencer takes his time, his fingers darting back up your legs and his eyes lowering past your chest and stomach. His lips lower to your stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses all the way down. His breathing has gone labored. Maybe he’s anticipating it as well; wanting to hold back for so long because he knows it will be over much sooner than he’d like. You cling on to the hopeful thinking, wanting to be a beautiful fool over a wise soothsayer.
“You really are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Spencer whispers, saying exactly the words you always wanted him to hear. He says the words that you don’t want to hear from anyone else. Together, you’ve seen colors that no one else can see. He’s taken you to places that you’ll never dare to venture alone. And now, gone are the romantic picnics and fancy hotels. You’ve traded them in for longing looks and scratchy sheets.
He lowers his lips to your inner thighs. Spencer’s wild curls tickle your sensitive skin. It’s not the time for laughter, so you hold it in as it threatens to slip from your lips. Spencer nips at your skin, leaving marks there when you wake. The marks on your skin may fade, but he’s mark on your heart is etched into your soul. He’ll take the leftovers, store them in his pocket. He’s taken a piece of you and left the rest to heal and grow without him to watch.
“Holy fuck,” you plead, remembering just how good at this he is, “Spencer, fuck. Please,” you whimper, tugging on his hair to give him a sign to continue. You try to control your voice, knowing very well that a teammate could be next door, “I need it,” you whine, covering your face with your arm. You’re vulnerable like this, letting yourself get swept up in pleasure at Spencer’s hands. It was also a dangerous game with him, yet it’s something you’ve both loved at one point or another.
You have to stop talking before those three little words slip out. Those words, the only words that should be off limits, are the ones you want to say. Heartbeats in Morse Code, kisses in Sign Language, and touches in Braille. You can still translate it, even after all the time that’s past. You know you’ll always be able to read the language of Spencer’s kisses because at one point you would have sworn they were for you to decipher.
He dips a finger in, his hands holding you still, not letting you move from his grasp. Spencer brings his glistening finger to his mouth, letting his calloused fingertip brush against his plump lips. You always loved kissing his lips, biting them and watching him squirm at the sensation. He moans as he sucks on his finger, turned on by the memories of you as he tastes you on his finger. Spurred on by his pleasure, you grip his hair, tugging on his curls as he brings his mouth to your bare inner thighs.
“You always tasted like Heaven,” Spencer whispers, his lips hitting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he speaks.
“That’s scientifically impossible,” you reply, pushing his messy hair from his forehead. He might say you taste like Heaven but where he brings you in nothing but sin, “You should know that Doctor Reid,” you add, daring to poke him. But you taste like Heaven to him and look like sin so you should be able to get away with it unscathed.
“Watch it,” Spencer mumbles, kissing your legs as his fingers rub slow circles around your clit. You bite your lip, holding in the reactions to his ministrations. You feel yourself grow more and more wet as Spencer continues to pay attention to you, “I’ve got you,” he assures, as his talented fingers continue to untie your sanity. You never imagined you’d be doing this again with Spencer. Not after the burning red heartbreak he put you through.
His other hand crawls up your torso and his nimble fingers latch on to your nipple. His cold hands send shockwaves of pleasure, making you arch your back in response. As you do, Spencer takes the opportunity to hoist himself up so your faces are inches apart. Your lips are so close that it could be considered kissing. You miss kissing him; you miss feeling his heartbeat against your chest and his cold hands tightly holding you face as he practically devours you. If there’s one thing you can confidently say about Spencer, it’s that he gives everything his all. And kiss is no expectation.
So when his face eclipses the little moonlight the drips in between the slots from the blinds, you know that he will be your downfall. You knew he was trouble from the moment you saw him shooting off that film canister in the bullpen. Yet, all those kisses since then could not have prepared you for how Spencer’s hands grip the side of your face. He used to hold you like if he was too forceful you’d shatter. But now, he holds you so tightly as if you’d fall apart without the glue of his grip keeping you together. You figure that he’s already broken you once. Shattered you into fractured pieces of memories and promises. So if he doesn’t hold you tight enough you’ll break again into those millions of pieces.
He kisses you with the intensity that he should have fought for your heart with. Your hearing is impeded by his hands covering your ears, so all you can hear is the warbled tones of Spencer’s groans and your whimpers as his lips glide over yours. His breath is hot against yours. The minty taste of the toothpaste and his unyielding lips leave you stunned. Spencer, despite his cool and collected reserve, isn’t as impenetrable as he thinks. Just as he knows what makes you tick, you know what makes him tick.
His body covers yours and his lips bite yours swollen and puffy. Your hands travel from his back, leaving scratches in your wake to his hair. You tug and pull his hair, encouraging him to kiss you deeper, rougher, hungrier.
“I want to taste you again,” Spencer says, his voice haunty with self satisfaction as his eyes run down your front looking at the marks left from his affections, “I need to,” he says, the pleading sparking something about your being. You give in to him, letting go of his hair and watching as he kisses down your torso and legs.
“Sit on my face,” Spencer says, the words tumbling from his lips before he can shy away from what he truly wants, “Please,” he adds, the tone of pleading back in his voice. Tapping his cheek sarcastically, you think you just might give into him.
He’s made you crumble tonight, why not watch him fall too.
Spencer scoots up on the bed, giving you the space to move so you’re straddling his waist. Encouraged by his prematurely blissed out expression, you grind down on his erection, satisfied with the disgruntled moans of pleasure that he lets out. His hands cling to your waist, holding you still from your movements. Spencer’s eyes, darting around in the dark hotel room, look for yours.
“You better stop, if you want to continue,” he warns, loosening his grip on your waist in a sign to get you closer to his face.
“Yes, sir,” you tease, poking fun at the way he’s writing under your touch with the title. He smirks, proud of himself, despite the inevitable burn that will come tomorrow.
With either of your thighs on the side of his head, you lower yourself to his waiting mouth. Spencer’s tongue presses up against your folds, daring to break through as he eagerly starts kissing your skin. Gripping his hair, you’ve given yourself permission to let go. You’ve allowed yourself, for the night, to give into the temptation that Spencer is.
He teases, darting his tongue around your entrance. You can feel his smile grow as you squirm above him. Gripping on to his hair, you use him as a handle, much to his pleasure your tugs grow rougher and rougher. He matches your grip with his hands. They dig into the soft skin of your upper thighs. No doubt there will be bruises left on your skin to remember him by. Yet again, all you’re left with is bruises and marks fated to fade. Bruises and kisses can only linger for so long.
Spencer’s pleasure, evident by his wild moans and quicker licks, grows rapidly. You reach back and slip your hand under the waistband of his pants. He groans into your skin, his hot breath vibrating through you stimulating and tickling your clit. He continues to lick, focused intently on driving you wild. You drag your thumb up his tip, watching the way his veiny hands grip at your thighs.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck, Spence,” you cry out, running your hand up and down his cock lazyily as he grows more and more frantic. His moans fill the room, muffled by your thighs and causing vibrations to shoot up to your center, “I’m going to cum, baby. You did such a good job for me, all for me,” you reassure him, as you come undone over his eager mouth. He continues to lap up your release, licking and kissing your sensitive folds.
You slide off him, your legs shaking and unsteady from your orgasm. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes are like headlights in the dark room. They are lights flashing a sign of warning before a tragic collision. But you’re too far into the crash to care about the fallout. So you kiss him. You kiss him so he’ll remember you long after you’re back in Quantico pretending that this night never happened.
“Let me fuck you,” Spencer says, confirming that you want to continue as much as he does. He slides up so he rests against the headboard, “Let me fuck you so you’ll always feel me. You’ll feel me when you let some pathetic excuse of a man fuck you,” he whispers, his voice deep and heated in your ear. You want to do nothing but comply. His hands draw you in. They’ve always drawn you in. Spencer’s filthy words replay in your head. Is it true jealousy or is it just part of the allure? You wonder if it’s him wanting you back or him fucking with you one last time?
“Please,” you call out, crawling up to sit in his lap. His pants are kicked down, laying forgotten on the bed. You’re skin to skin. You can feel him blush deep red as your fingers dance across his face. He’s beautiful like this, but tragic. Maybe that’s why you were drawn to him. You’ve always loved beautiful, tragic things, “Please fuck me, Spencer,” you insist, kissing his neck, leaving marks of your own.
“Has anyone fucked you since I’ve had you?” he asks, the patronizing tone shouldn’t have the effect on you that it does. It washes over you, threatens to rip away at your sensibility and overrun your sanity. Spencer’s dark eyes, blown out in pleasure, are dangerously beautiful. He’s always walked the line of dangerously beautiful. If love shouldn’t hurt then why do you crave the sting that his kisses leave?
“No,” you tell him, honestly, despite the humiliation that comes. He knows that you’re not over him and yet he’s going to leave you wondering if he’s still hung up on you, “No one would compare,” you tell him, hoping it’s the right answer to convince him to do something.
“Is that right?” Spencer coos, his voice oozing with pride and lust, he kisses your temple, his hands cling to your back, “You’re a smart girl, Y/N. You know that only I can make you feel like this,”
He’s right. Never did you feel the deep, burning passion for someone. Never did you feel so strongly for someone until Spencer. Not with your college hookups or early twenties relationships did you ever want someone as much as you wanted Spencer. He’s quicksand, he’s dangerous, and yet you find yourself clawing out from the wreckage seeking his soft lips and kind brown eyes.
“Only you,” you choke out, as Spencer’s fingers find your clit once again. He grinds up into your, letting your soaking folds meet his painfully hard cock. You hold in the moans that want to escape, knowing well that you’ll wake up your neighbors if you don’t. You would think that Spencer is magic from the way his fingers and lips find the parts of you that need him the most. But magic doesn't exist. It’s not magic that drives him to the places that you yearn for his touches, it’s not love either. It’s passion and desire. He has the map to you; the very map that he shred to pieces years earlier.
“That’s right, baby,” Spencer teases, lining up against your entrance as he kisses all over your chest. Your breasts fall in front of his face, nearly distracting him from what he’s saying, “I’m going to fill you up so good, sweetheart,”
You sink down on his cock, sighing as you relish in the way he fills you up. His hands cling to your hips, keeping you in place, like you’d even dare to move. Your mouth opens as you feel the burning sensation of him inside you. Spencer’s index finger draws along the curve of your upper lip, marveling as you whimper as the tiniest of touches. You want to move, to see if he can get deeper inside you, but you don’t dare to do anything with his permission first. His steady breathing, his finger against your lip and his eyes trained on yours has your flushing with anticipation.
“Oh sweetheart, I missed this,” Spencer coos, kissing the sides of your jaw messily. You smile at his praise, loving the feeling of making him feel good as you try to focus on steading your breath, “I miss you, Y/N,”
“I miss you too, Spence,” you say, the words tumbling out as you plant a kiss against his lips, hushing the words he was about to say, “I need more,” you beg, hoping to convince him to move. You know he can feel your walls grip around him, needing something more than the stillness he offers.
“Be patient, good girls are patient,” Spencer chides, kissing your forehead and over your eyelids. He can smother you in his kisses if you’d have it your way. Death by a thousand kisses; cuts patched up by healing pecks.
You start to roll your hips, hellbent on reliving the burning pleasure that blazes through your core. Spencer, though on his last defense of resistance, grips your hips, halting any attempt at seeking your release.
“Be a good girl,” he whispers, remind you of your place, “Be my good girl, Y/N,”
“Yes,” you say, eager to follow his demands. You take his hand in your hand, inspecting it. His veins start near where his wrist meets the back of his hand. It takes over the whole expanse of his skin, coloring parts of his skin a blueish green. The veins lead into his slender, long fingers. You’ve hand them lost in your hair and on nearly every inch of your body at some point— and still it’s not enough. He is a perfectly crafted balance of delicate and strong. You kiss the back of his hand, teeth grazing against his prominent vein, feeling the life course through his hands. Turning his hand over, you left wet kisses across his palm. You can feel him twitch inside you, as he watches you pepper kisses on his hands in an act that resembles worship.
“I’ve hardly moved,” he says, referencing your labored breathing and blown out pupils, “looks like I can still make you fall apart,” his fingers sneak up to your face. His cool touch is the cure to your flushed, heated skin.
You never doubted that he could make you fall apart. The real question is if he could — would put you back together. You want to have faith in him, even if it’s a faithless fate. You want to love him again, even if it will kill you.
“I need more, Spence,” you beg, not caring that you sound desperate in his arms, “Please fuck me,” you plead, hoping to appeal to the side of him that you know can never resist your charms. Especially as you kiss along his jawline, whimpering into his ear.
“You’re so fucking cute like this,” Spencer says, brushing his hands over your hair as he thrusts up into you. His hands grip your hips, spurring you on as you begin to move on his cock, “Come on, Y/N. You’re so insatiable. I know one is never enough for you,”
His lips seek yours, hungry to feel you against him. Spencer groans, feeling you tighten around him. He holds you to his chest, his grip digging into your skin as he grinds his teeth.
He kisses you again, his lips seeking the contact after just moments apart. His quiet whimpers and fingers against your face make you a traitor against your own will. You feel yourself melt away as his feverish kisses become more erratic. You can feel the tense build in your chest and it threatens to spill over.
“I love you,” Spencer whispers, so quietly you’re sure you’ve missed it. You kiss him, or rather, smother him with your lips.
“I love you,” you say in return. Not because it’s what you say after someone says they love you. You can’t even count how many times you’ve said it. To your college roommates as they run out the door to their terrible paying jobs, to your mother from the fire escape as she gets in the taxi after visiting, to your cat as you dash out the door when whisked away on a case. It’s such a simple three words. Simple, but heavy.
With an equally heavy breath, you whisper it again in Spencer’s ears.
“I love you, Spencer,”
He is so close you can stretch your lips so only a little bit and is flushed chest. You can feel in suck in a breath as you kiss his skin. Your touch, not foreign to him, but charged this time.
“I never stopped loving you,” Spencer says, his words hanging in the air as they drip from his lips, “And I’ll never stop,”
His hands return to your face, holding you gently. You’re still consumed by the weight of his confession, by the promise of being his again. The fears of falling into old paths and hurting each other again rests in the back of your mind as Spencer’s delicate fingers run across your face. His fingertips leave evidence of his love on your skin and you never want to wash it away.
Together, you’ll dance across the dangerous slope. And though it might make you a traitor, with Spencer by your side it might just be worth the risk.
“You feel so good, so good, Spencer,” you cry out, stunned by how deep inside you he reaches. The headboard bangs against the wall, disturbing your unlucky neighbors, “I feel so full,” you tell him, making his thrusts grow faster and more intense at the praise.
He kisses your cheeks, losing himself for a moment. Forgetting that things like that don’t happen during hook-ups. He kisses like he’s making promises. You can get dizzy off the way his lips mesh with yours and the way his hands hold your face. His slender fingers slide down your jawline and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. Spencer tugs on your lip, smiling as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. He closes his eyes, moaning.
“I know,” Spencer says, still holding your face, “I know it’s good, sweetheart. You were always so good for me,” his voice strained. Exhausted from your first orgasm, you feel yourself grow more tired. Spencer must notice because his hands leave your face and hover over your back.
Gently, he pushes your back so your chest is flush against his. Overwhelmed by his thrusting, you lean forward, resting your forehead against his sweaty chest. He heaves as he breaths, hellbent on chasing both your climaxes. His words stick to your skin as the room burns down around you. You sway in the dark with your arms wrapped around Spencer’s torso and your legs around his waist. Crying out in pleasure, Spencer’s lips cover your mouth, quieting you effectively.
“Spencer,” you cry out, stopping at his name because you know you won’t be able to stop the rest of the words that follow, “I love you,” you say, his name and those three little words synonymous on your lips.
“Spencer, I’m gonna- I’m gonna come,” you cry out, your voice hoarse from trying to keep quiet.
“You want to come on my cock?” Spencer asks, his thrusts growing sloppy and unmeasured as he nears his release too, “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. My good girl,” he adds, kissing the side of your head as he draws shapes on your back.
“Yes, please, Spencer,” you shout, not caring that your voice carries throughout the room and down the hallway, “A-anything, fuck, Spence,” you cry, pleading for Spencer to allow for your release. He’s usually lenient, or rather, you’re his weak spot.
“Okay, sweet girl,” he says, kissing your face as he relents, “you can come, but right after you let me fill you up,” he tells you, his words making your body rage with an inextinguishable fire. His fingertip kisses burn your skin.
“Oh my god,” you cry out, carried away by Spencer’s continued ministrations on your clit as he comes undone, “Please fill me up, Spencer. Please I need it, I need you,”
He comes undone, his thrusting growing sloppy and his vocal whimpers ricocheting in your ears. All through his release, Spencer continues to rub circles on your clit, encouraging your shy whines and needy moans. He smiles at your desperation as he acts on his promise.
“Can you take it, Y/N? Be a good girl and take my cum. Just like that. I love you, Y/N. I love you,” he cries, his lips finding yours as he kisses you again, “You can come now, Y/N. Such a good girl for me,” he says, kissing you in encouragement. His words and lips are enough to help you reach your climax.
It’s never like how it’s described in those bodice rippers you hid in between your mattress in college. You don’t see a big white light and there’s no moment of clarity. His teeth clash against yours as his thrusts slow, your release evident on your thighs. You’re still sensitive when he tries to pull out. You hiss at the sensation of him leaving you. Spencer, still drunk off the high of doing this again, kisses your collarbone as he calms down.
He lays next to you breathing unsteadily as he comes down from his high. Spencer’s hands snake around your body, searching for your warmth and acknowledgement that the words spilled were just as heavy as they seem. Shyly, contrasting his words and actions just moments before, Spencer moves his head to rest against your bare shoulder. His hair tickles your neck and you know you’ll get numb from the weight of his head against your arm.
“Do you think we get second chances in life?” Spencer asks, his voice wavering as he mumbles in the dark, “I mean I don’t think I deserve a second chance, because of everything that’s happened…”
“We both hurt each other,” you say, taking part of the blame, that is rightfully yours to carry, “We both did things we regret. But what’s important, Spence is that we came back to each other,” you promise, kissing his hand that rests on your stomach. You lace your fingers in his squeezing as you continue to kiss the scars and marks on his beautiful hands.
“I don’t want to hurt you again. Ever,” Spencer whispers, “I love you, but does me loving you hurt you?” he asks, his reservations bubbling to the surface as a stream of tears run down his face.
“Spence, there isn’t a rulebook for this. I don’t have the answers for what to do when a good man hurts me and I hurt him too. There’s no answer, baby,” you tell him, wiping away the tears from his face as they collect on your skin, “But here’s the thing, you’re worth the risk,”
“I’m going to love you,” Spencer says, “I’m going to love you for a lifetime and then some,” he tells him, twisting his body so your legs and arms are tangled up in the sheets, “It’s just, after Maeve, I didn’t think I deserved to be happy. I thought that I had all the happiness I was allowed. I thought that I was done,”
“You’ve got enough love to share, Spence,” you say, hoping his heart is big enough for you, even know with the wounds that you both wear, “It’s big enough for both of us,”
“You’re incredible,” he whispers, sitting up to pick his long discarded shirt from the bed.
“I know,” you say, kissing his forehead as your heartbeats mesh into a single beat.
You’re not a faithful woman, but somehow, you do believe in Spencer’s promises, “And you’re worth it in the end, Spence,”
“I love you,” Spencer says, repeating the word as he did before till it loses all meaning, “I love you,” he says, as sleep, for the first time in a very long time, takes the reins of both of you.
His deep breathing and steady heartbeat is the lullaby that you’ve dreamt of. It’s worth the risk if you’ll wake up in his arms tomorrow morning with more than the lingering kisses to remember him by.
@pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @folkreid @muffin-cup @reidslibrarybook @jswessie187 @emilyprentisswif3 @doctorspenceryeet @alexrosex99 @lowensashleigh @cncos-baby @reidslovely @shemarmooresfedora @strawberryspence @mimischaos @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @gspenc @ssa-uglywhore27 @alexxavicry @spencerreidat3am @reidsmilf
Request: Can I have a doc with maybe Spencer season 1-2, where the team thinks he’s a virgin and doesn’t have a girlfriend but then they find out he does.
A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! We love a good early season Spence!! I rarely have requests for soft Spence, so this was a twist from my usual writing course. I hope you really like it and sorry it took long to write (i think you sent this request a few months back) but I hope it was worth the wait! Happy reading! ✨
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader
Content warning: Mentions of intimacy, slight nudity, joke about masturbation
Word count: 2.3k
“What are your plans for the weekend, Reid?” Elle asked.
Spencer looked up from his paperwork to see Elle sitting on Morgan’s desk and Morgan sitting in his office chair. They both looked at him curiously to see if he would give them a different answer from the past few Fridays. Too bad for them he was going to disappoint them.
“Nothing. Maybe go to the library but that’s about it,” he said.
“Come with us to the bar. It’s been weeks of you doing nothing and going to the library. You can only read so many books,” Morgan said.
“Yeah, Reid. Don’t you get lonely? Don’t you wanna come out with us and maybe leave with someone who’s not us?” Elle said.
Reid looked back down at his paperwork as soon as she mentioned that. He wouldn’t dare even entertain the thought. Even if he did go out with them, he wouldn’t find the fun in socializing with people he didn’t really know. At his apartment is where he could find all the comfort he needed.
He looked at his watch and saw it was a little past five. He smiled to himself as he shuffled his papers together to pack them up. In the midst of doing so, a crumpled piece of paper landed on his desk. From the trajectory it was thrown, he knew exactly he threw it.
He looked over at Morgan with a cut eye as he picked up the crumpled paper and threw it back at him. It just missed his desk and landed at his feet. Morgan chuckled as he picked it up.
“Nice aim. Maybe you can use that aim of yours better in a club setting with hot ladies around,” Morgan teased.
Elle lightly hit Morgan on his arm as she saw Spencer roll his eyes. He got up from his seat and grabbed his stuff to get ready to leave. He packed his satchel with all his paperwork and then picked up his glasses to put back on. Elle hopped off Morgan’s desk to go up to Spencer.
“Don’t listen to him, Reid. We just want you to come out of your shell a little,” Elle said.
“And maybe a special someone can get you out of your shell a little more if you know what I’m saying,” Morgan said.
Elle shot her head around to look at Morgan with a scowled look. She shook her head in disapproval of what he said. Morgan shrugged his shoulders with a smirk on his face in response. Elle rolled her eyes and turned back to look at Spencer.
“What Morgan’s trying to say is that-”
“You need some lovin’ from a woman and not always your left hand,” Morgan said.
“Morgan,” Elle yelled as she turned around to look at him.
Spencer brushed past her to walk toward the bullpen doors. He gave Morgan a cut eye before he walked past his desk. He then felt something hit the back of his head. He turned around and looked on the floor to see a crumpled piece of paper.
He looked up at Morgan before picking it up off the floor. He threw it back his way and Morgan caught it in his hands. He had a feeling Morgan had something else to joke about when it came to his love life.
“It’s all in fun and games, pretty boy,” Morgan said.
“Yeah, right. I’ll talk to you guys on Monday,” Spencer said.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with us? Drinks are on Derek for being a complete jerk,” Elle said.
“Hey, I’ll buy first rounds for my missed joke but nothing more,” Morgan said.
Spencer shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take you up on that round next time but I should get going. I wanna get my head deep into some books I haven’t read in a while.”
He then turned around to head out the bullpen. He didn’t hear a peep out of Elle or Morgan as he walked towards the glass doors. It seemed as if they had given up once again on convincing him to go out with them. He was glad they didn’t push too much this time around. He could only say ‘nothing’ and ‘going to the library’ for so long.
He opened the glass doors to exit the bullpen, so he could start his weekend. He bolted towards the elevator and pressed the down button. He quickly looked back at the bullpen to see if Elle or Morgan were looking his way.
He watched as they both got ready to leave the bureau for the night. The ding of the elevator brought him back to his mission of leaving before they could catch up. He entered the elevator and quickly pressed the button for the parking garage.
When the doors closed, he leaned his back against the elevator wall as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and pressed the home button to light up his screen. He smiled as he saw an abundance of text messages. It was an understatement to call the feelings he had excitement. He was beyond ecstatic to go home.
He pulled out his keys in a hurry to unlock the door to his apartment to get in. It was even hard for his nervous system to contain his excitement of getting inside his apartment. He almost dropped his keys trying to shove them into the keyhole.
He finally unlocked it and swung the door open. To his disappointment, he stepped into an empty apartment. He swung the door closed behind him as he looked around. He furrowed his eyebrows as he questioned whether he had read her texts incorrectly. However, his doubts were soon dissipated when he heard footsteps walking his way.
He turned to his right towards where the kitchen was and saw Y/N running up to him with open arms. He smiled as he opened his arms to embrace her. She nearly jumped into his arms as she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him tightly in her grips.
“I’ve missed you,” she said.
“I’ve missed you even more. How was teaching English in Spain?” He said.
Y/N took her head off his shoulder to look at him in his eyes. He hadn’t seen her gorgeous face in the longest time. He didn’t know whether he was going crazy or not but every time he saw her, she became more beautiful. It was hard resisting kissing her after three long months but he longed to hear her sweet voice fill his ears with unique stories.
“You just got off work and you already want to hear about my work? Some things never change,” she giggled.
“Well, you can talk about anything and I’ll listen any day of the week,” he said.
“If that’s the case, come take a seat,” Y/N said.
She unwrapped her arms from around his neck and gripped his hand in both of hers. She guided him over to the couch. She stopped at the armrest and gently guided him to sit on it.
She let go of his hands to place them on both sides of his neck. She rubbed her thumbs against his jaw which made him blush as he tried his best not to show off a goofy grin.
“I leave for three months and you’re deciding to grow out your stubble? Who’s this and what did you do to my clean-shaven doctor?” She joked.
He chuckled. “Just didn’t get a good shave this morning. I was a bit distracted.”
“Oh? By what?” She asked.
“The thought of you coming back today. If you didn’t come back today, I’d probably be grabbing drinks with my coworkers as they try to convince me to talk to buy a woman a drink, ” he said.
Y/N laughed as she took off his glasses. She folded them and gently tossed them on the coffee table. She smiled as she looked into his lens-free eyes.
“Good thing they didn’t take you out. It would be hard for any woman to resist such gorgeous eyes. Hell, you got me entranced,” she said as she ran her hand through his perfectly slicked hair.
“More than usual these past few weeks they’ve been giving me grief for not going out with them. They think I’m lonely,” he said.
“Well, whenever you’re comfortable to let them know you’re not as lonely as you come off to be, I’ll be right there next to you,” she said.
He smiled as he grabbed her hands in his and brought them up to his lips. He kissed them a few times before holding them close to him. He looked up at her to see an infectious smile on her face which made him smile even more.
“I love you, Y/N, and I want to introduce you to them so bad but-”
“Mixing work and personal life can be hard. I understand, Spence. You don’t need to explain it to me,” she said.
He smiled as he placed her hands back to his lips to kiss them again. She let go of his hands to place them on his cheeks. He looked deep into her eyes to see a little spark starting in them.
“And for the record, I love you even more,” she said as she leaned down to kiss him.
“I love you the most,” he said.
She smirked as she placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back onto the couch. That spark he saw in her eyes turned into a huge flame as she crawled on top of him. He could feel his face getting hotter and hotter as she lowered her face towards his to embrace him with a passionate, tongue-filled kiss.
She didn’t hesitate to unbutton his shirt. It had been far too long since they had seen each other but far much longer since they’ve seen each other naked. Spencer caressed his hands up her blouse to take it off.
Y/N eased up so he could take it off of her. When he removed her shirt from over her head, she looked down at him in surprise. He usually was never so confident to strip her down so fast. It always took a bit of a work-up to get him to that point. He was even surprised by his hand’s neediness.
He leaned up to kiss her as he gripped her waist. Y/N grabbed onto his jaw to keep him close to her, enjoying every moment their lips were together. Spencer leaned back for a second to quickly take in the beauty of her body. He couldn’t help smile as he felt extremely happy to just feel her back in fingertip’s reach.
“What did you tell your coworkers you were doing tonight?” She asked.
“I said I was going to be nose deep in books I haven’t read in a while,” he said.
She smirked. “Is that some kind of code, good doctor? Am I those books you speak of?”
“Um, well, I mean-I just-”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said as she leaned in to kiss him again.
She gently pushed him back down onto the couch to go back to unbuttoning his shirt. He honestly didn’t even mean for it to come off that way when he told Elle and Morgan about his plans. However, he was all for being deep in everything Y/N had to offer and he wanted her to indulge in him as well.
Before she reached the last button on his dress shirt, there was a knock on the door. They both stopped everything they were doing and immediately leaned up when they heard the door open. He had completely forgotten to lock it when he got inside.
When they both looked towards the door, Spencer’s eyes widened with disbelief. It was Elle and Morgan looking at him and Y/N with the most confused looks he had ever seen them have. He didn’t think even the most complicated cases had them this stumped before.
“Uh, sorry for interrupting. We just came by to try and convince you to come out and the door was open and-”
“And what Morgan’s trying to say is that we’re leaving. Nice seeing you, Reid, and nice meeting you…”
“Y/N. Pleasure’s all mine,” she said with a smile and wave.
“Well, we’ll see you two later,” she said with an awkward wave.
Elle turned around to exit but Morgan lingered for a second. He looked at Spencer with a small smile of approval and thumbs up. Elle didn’t let that go unnoticed. She grabbed his arm to yank him out of Spencer’s apartment before closing the door behind them.
Y/N and Spencer looked at each other. Spencer was on the brink of overwhelming embarrassment. Y/N burst out laughing as she saw how mortified he looked. She leaned in and pecked him on the lips.
“I guess instead of being right next to you I was supposed to be on top of you when I finally met your friends,” Y/N laughed.
“I’m glad you’re finding this humorous but I’m not going to hear the end of this on Monday,” he said.
“Well, until then we can lock the door and continue where we left off,” she suggested.
“Yeah, don’t want Hotch and Gideon to be the next ones to burst in,” he said.
Y/N smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Maybe they’ll give you a raise when they see you’re not lonely. Maybe enough so we can afford a bigger place.”
He chuckled. “Maybe but I’d like them to meet you when we’re not alone in my apartment almost half-naked.”
She giggled. “Fair enough.”
Tagged: @shadyladyperfection @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @spencerreidsthings @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @slutforsr @bxtchboy69 @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @agentadhd @fanofalltheficsx @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @dinsprettygirl @multixfandomwriter @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @muffin-cup @jessalyn-jpeg @princesssmooshie @solitarypeachh @gubler-me-swallow-me @reidsbookclub @isabellasimps @doctorspenceryeet
An Inconvenient Affection
Last Updated 13/Nov/21
When a couples’ therapist is suspected of murdering his own patients, Y/N and Spencer must go undercover as a feuding married couple to draw him out.
A/N: I’m so excited to be starting my second series. I’ve got the first few chapters written and the whole thing outlined already so I’m hoping to keep to a regular posting schedule
THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
I really hope you enjoy it, let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist, and as always, reblogs, comments, tags, and messages really keep me motivated and excited to write <3
Read it AO3 here if you’d prefer
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff, Angst
Warnings: Cursing, Adult Themes, Smut in Later Chapters, Alcohol Consumption, Stalking, Adultery, Criminal Minds Typical Violence
Word Count: TBA (Roughly 13 Chapters)
13. Just ignore it
summary: spencer and reader get called in on a case while they're having sex. reader proceeds to tease spencer for the rest of the day. smut ensues.
genre: smut, fluff, 1.9k
warnings: penetrative sex, I think that's it actually?
find the series masterlist here!
“Oh god, Spencer, yes! That’s it, that’s so good…” I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my head back as Spencer pounded into me, breathing heavily. I was almost there, when I heard both our phones ringing.
“Don’t stop, Spencer,” I begged him. “Just ignore it. Let’s just finish this, and then you can call Hotch back. Please, please don’t stop.”
“It might be a case.”
I groaned as I felt him slow down and reach over to the nightstand to answer his phone.
“Yeah?” He answered, trying to slow his breathing. I clenched around him, trying to punish him for answering the phone. He started to let out a moan but quickly covered it up with a cough. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be there shortly. Bye.”
I glared at him as he hung up the phone. “You better not leave me like this,” I warned.
“Hey, it’s not my fault!” He defended. “Plus, you’re coming with us. You better call Hotch back so he knows you’re coming.”
“I am actually not coming, thanks to you,” I pouted as he got off me and pulled his boxers back on.
“Oh, stop complaining.” He rolled his eyes. “You know just as well as I do that you’ll sneak into my hotel room tonight and we can finish this then.”
I pouted for a moment longer before I realized he was right. It was absolutely no help in the moment, though, and I was going to make sure he knew it once we got on the plane.
“Well, we’re going to be late anyways,” I reminded him. “You have to take me back to my apartment so I can get my car.”
“I’ll just drive you, we can tell them I picked you up on my way. Or, that you were already here. That’s not out of the ordinary for us.”
“Yeah, you can’t tell them I was here.”
“Because you answered the phone while your dick was still inside me, even after I told you not to. And, as a result, you sounded like you just finished having sex, and Hotch for sure knows that. He was just being polite.”
“Fine, we can just tell them I picked you up on my way.” He paused. “Do you really think that Hotch thought I was having sex?”
“Yes, I really do.”
He grimaced. I finally rolled out of bed and put my clothes back on. I had started keeping a go-bag and a field kit at Spencer’s apartment in case of this exact occasion. I called Hotch back and told him that I had gotten his message, and Spencer would pick me up on his way.
Less than ten minutes after Hotch had interrupted us, we were on the road.
We were the last ones on the jet and sat down next to each other. After a short briefing, Hotch pulled Spencer aside.
“I’m sorry if I caught you in the middle of something when I called earlier,” I heard Hotch saying.
“Oh, no. It was nothing,” Spencer insisted. I didn’t have to look back to know that he must have been blushing.
Hotch gave him a knowing look. “If you’re seeing someone, Reid, you don’t need to tell us about it. But, I’m happy for you.”
“You don’t really need to – this isn’t necessary, Hotch. It’s all good.”
Hotch patted him on the shoulder and gave him a small but sincere smile.
When Spencer sat back down next to me, I didn’t look up from the case file I was reading, but muttered a quiet “I told you so”.
I spent the rest of the day teasing Spencer. On the plane, in the car, at the precinct – I wanted to make it very clear to him that this situation could have been easily avoided. I’d never really had to tease him like this before, and I tried to keep it professional and respectful. After all, we were at work trying to catch a serial killer. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to try that hard to tease him.
When we arrived, I joined Hotch and Spencer at the most recent crime scene to examine the UnSub’s latest victim.
“Reid, you’ll go with Dr y/l/n back to the morgue. When she’s finished with the autopsy the two of you can bring the report back to the precinct.”
Spencer and I were the only two at the morgue. I was in one of the offices, searching for a marker, when I felt Spencer behind me.
“We have some time, if you want to, uh…” he trailed off, looking at me suggestively.
“Spencer, no! We’re in a morgue right now, and you need to take the autopsy report back to the precinct. What’s gotten into you?” I tried not to laugh. He wasn’t like this very often, and especially not at work. At least I knew that my teasing was working.
“It’s not fair!” He whined. “You’ve been teasing me all day and you know it. Plus, you weren’t the only one who didn’t get to come this morning.”
“Mhmm. And whose fault is that?”
He groaned. “Fine, I’m sorry! Is that what you wanted to hear? I’ve been horny all day, and I should have just ignored the phone this morning, but I didn’t, so can we both just admit that we want each other right now?”
“Oh, I can absolutely admit that, Dr Reid,” I said, dragging my hands down his chest. “But, we’ve both got work to do. Head back to the precinct, and I’ll see you at the hotel later, ‘kay?” I tapped his chest lightly and turned back to the filing cabinet, making sure to bend over in a way that would draw his eyes to my ass.
Spencer mumbled and grumbled, but he grabbed the report off the desk and left. I stayed behind to check the town doctor’s work on the autopsies of the previous three victims, and before I knew it, it was getting late. I called Spencer to see if someone could give me a ride back to the precinct, but he was working with Rossi on the geographical profile, so he sent Morgan to pick me up.
“Hey, Doc,” he greeted me as I got in the SUV. “Any news besides what Reid brought back earlier?”
“Not really,” I replied. “I noticed a few anomalies with the first victim, but I noted them in my report. I’ll let you guys take a look, but in my opinion, we can probably chalk it up to the UnSub being hesitant with his first victim. He just hadn’t quite adjusted his process yet.”
Morgan hummed. “Speaking of Reid,” he continued. “Has he seemed, I don’t know, kind of different to you lately?”
I looked out the window. “I haven’t noticed anything different,” I said as casually as I could. “Then again, I’m not a profiler.”
“Hm. It just seems like he’s been particularly squirmy, or something like that, on this case. I’m just wondering if you knew anything about that?” He looked over at me briefly with an expectant look on his face before returning his attention to the road. I knew he was trying to get me to admit that Spencer and I were dating, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him.
“Well, you know Spencer. He’s a... particularly squirmy fellow.” I cringed at how awkward I sounded, but Morgan just laughed.
“You got me there, Doc.”
I let out a breath and looked back out the window. Not long after, we arrived at the precinct and headed in. The rest of the team was there, packing up for the day. We decided to grab some Chinese for supper before heading back to the hotel.
Spencer and I returned to our individual rooms at first. We hadn’t discussed whose room we would be meeting in, but I wanted to see how long it would take him to crack, so I waited patiently in my bed with a book. Less than ten minutes after we had gotten back to the hotel, I heard a knock on my door. I smirked and got up to open it.
“Hi there, Spencer,” I opened the door cheerfully.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, pushing me back so he could close the door. Without wasting any time, he pushed me up against the door and caught my mouth with his. I fumbled with his clothes, ripping his cardigan open and loosening his tie. He pulled back for a moment to rip my shirt off, then began to kiss down my neck and across the tops of my breasts. I threw my head back against the door in a breathy moan.
Suddenly, Spencer drew back. “Take the rest of your clothes off and get on the bed,” he ordered, unbuckling his own belt and moving towards the bed. I shed my pants and underwear, along with my bra, and climbed into the middle of the bed. Spencer wasn’t far behind me, only pausing to remove the rest of his own clothes.
“Can you feel what you do to me?” He growled, grinding his hard cock against me. “I’ve been hard all day, thanks to you. Do you know how inappropriate that is at a crime scene?”
“I’m sorry, please, just fuck me,” I moaned, desperate. I’d never seen Spencer act like this before, and it was hot.
“Maybe you don’t deserve to be fucked after each of the stunts you pulled today. Teasing me, on the plane, in front of our coworkers? Really?”
“I said I’m sorry, Spencer, please!” I whined. He gave in, sweeping his fingers across my heat.
“Shit, y/n, you’re so wet,” he groaned. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, then leaned down to catch my mouth in a hot kiss. As he did that, he slid his cock into me without warning.
I let out a strangled moan, and reached behind him to tangle my hands in his hair.
“You need to be quieter, or they’re going to hear us,” Spencer reminded me as he began to glide in and out. I nodded, snapping my mouth shut in an effort to keep my volume down.
We were both on edge, and I could tell it wouldn’t take much for either of us to come. Spencer was already beginning to lose control, snapping his hips against mine faster and faster. I reached down to rub my clit in small circles.
Suddenly, Spencer changed angles slightly when he leaned down to suck on my breasts. With each thrust, the tip of his cock brushed that spot deep inside me, and combined with the feeling of his wet tongue on my chest, I was coming.
“Oh my god, Spencer, yes,” I whined, trying my best to stay quiet. He continued to move in and out of me, getting sloppier, until the clenching of my walls around his cock caused him to come with a grunt of my name.
He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting heavily. After a moment, he rolled off of me and grinned.
“Maybe you should tease me more often.”
“Or maybe next time, you could just ignore the phone call and we could both come to work fully satisfied.”
Spencer rolled his eyes playfully and pulled me against him in a tight hug.
“I’ll think about it.”
Previous -- Next
can you write something with a touchstarved!spence with a reader always playing with his hair/hands and mutual pining? ty<3
blurb time bc i don’t like to sleep!
TW: hair touching, cuddling?, mutual pining, kissing
cute as shit watch ur toes!
It’s an unspoken rule that Spencer gets to invite himself over to your apartment after work. The two of you have become good friends over the year, and he’s expressed his shameful loneliness multiple times to you— so you put an end to it by offering company 24/7.
Spencer was never irritating and never a bore. Synergy flowed freely between the two of you, never a moment of tension.
Spencer enjoys your company more than he should. He feels safe, warm, and welcomed when he’s with you. You’re nothing but kind and caring to him, a nice contrast from your semi-abrasive personality at work.
And as your friendship blossomed, you slowly let your guard down around him. Recently, you’d become comfortable enough to cuddle up to Spencer while watching TV, resting your head on his shoulder, threading your fingers into his hair, holding his hand.
He’d never expected you to be this... touchy. But here you are yet again, snuggled into Spencer’s side as Jeopardy plays on the TV. Your fingers massage at his scalp and twirl bundles of curls every so often. Spencer’s barely listening to the show; his eyes are closed, relishing in the feeling of your hand in his hair.
He’s starting to fall in love with you— hard. You’re so intelligent and beautiful and unique; how could he not? Spencer’s never had someone be this touchy with him; it’s relatively new. But he likes it a lot.
“You should be on a game show.” You laugh, looking up at him. “You’d get all the answers right.”
“I don’t know.” Spencer shrugs. “Isn’t having an eidetic memory an unfair advantage?”
“I mean... the best player wins, right?”
You stifle a yawn, and your eyes begin to flutter shut.
“Alright, sleepy-head.” He chuckles. “It’s time for you to go to bed.”
“I’m not even that tired.” You reply, another yawn getting caught in your throat.
“Lies.” Spencer chuckles, yanking you up from the couch by the hand. “You need to rest up.”
“Fine. But only because the doctor told me to.”
“You know it, doctor’s orders!”
Once Spencer opens to door to your bedroom, you’re crashing onto the mattress, burying yourself adorably underneath the blankets.
“Are you leaving?” You mumble.
He shrugs, hesitantly asking “Can I stay?”
“Of course you can.” You smile. “This is practically your home too.”
“O-okay, thank you.” And with that, Spencer’s pivoting to walk back to the living room.
“Where are you going?”
He stops and turns back around, “The couch...?”
“No, stay with me.” You order, patting the space on the bed next to you.
Spencer doesn’t really have the opportunity to protest before he’s crawling next to you. You point out how his feet don’t fit under the blanket, so you offer to cuddle him extra to keep him warm.
“You always smell nice.” You sigh. “I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable, Spencer.”
“You’re not. Don’t worry.” He replies, rubbing your back lightly. “No one’s ever been this nice to me before.”
“That’s awful, considering you’re the nicest person I know.”
You brush the curls away from his forehead with your palm, placing a gentle kiss on his skin. You’re lips make his face tingle, leaving goosebumps all over his body.
“Goodnight Spencer, I love you.”
Just before you’re about turn away, Spencer pulls you in by the neck, his lifts softly capturing yours in a proper kiss. You gasp at first, but eventually sigh with content.
A flush covers his face when he pulls away, “I’m sorry... I uh don’t know why I—“
You silence him by kissing his lips again, stroking his face lovingly. “Shhh... Goodnight, Spence. We can talk about this in the morning.”
“Okay, yeah, in the morning.” He hums as you stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. “I love you too, you know.”
“I know.” You smile.
Summary: y/n is bored, and that means she's incredibly horny. And the only cure is sitting on her boyfriend's lap until he finally surrenders to her needs (fem/reader)
Prompt: "C'mere, you can sit on my lap until I’m done working."
Warnings: (dom/spencer), (sub/reader), (kinda perv/spencer)Unprotected sex, penetrative sex, age gap (24/39), fingering, dom/sub undertones, predator/prey undertones, daddy kink, cnc undertones I think, masturbation, swearing, spanking, bitting as a turn on, cockwarming, praise, teasing, masochism (kinda), edging, breeding kink, crying, innocence kink, choking, mentions of overstimulation, degradation, panty ripping, minor jealousy. (NSFM)
I was horny, whiny, and impatient—it happened sometimes—and when Spencer wasn't home I would either send him some nudes hoping he would have compassion and grant me permission to come or I wouldn't and I would simply wait until he could make me come.
Only this evening wasn't the same as the previous ones because my Spencer was home, and I would make damn sure he knew how much I wanted—no needed—him.
I was almost done completing my Philosophy essay when my intense arousal hit me, and sitting criss-crossed in Spencer's leather armchair only made squirming and grinding against my middle easier. I suppressed some moans but the needier I became; the more I could only think about him. How his curly, messy, hair was so smooth in my hands and how those damn lips kissed mine. How in public he was the most amazing partner; kind and loving, but in the sheets he could make me his by bitting, sucking and pushing my limits until I was ruined in his arms.
I moaned out loud, shutting my computer harshly and standing up. I was only dressed in Spencer's pink chemise, his favorite shirt, and I clumsily undid some buttons. I grinned, mussing my hair and skipped into his living room to see him at his desk.
Spencer was so immersed in the documents he had taken home from work that he hadn't seen me. However, upon seeing me standing in his shirt and my obviously aroused expression, a smirk curved his lips, "How's your essay?"
"I don't understand the assignment." I whined.
Dismissing me, Spencer said, "I can look it over soon, y/n."
I couldn't see his smirk anymore but I could sense it and the shame bubbling inside me only stimulated my arousal. I unbuttoned another button on his shirt nonchalantly.
"I wanna do something," I explained in the most inexplicit manner I could. Spencer was an intelligent man, he could fill in the blanks.
"You can wait." He snapped, turning the paper in his hand and ignoring me.
I didn't like his tone, so I didn't listen to him. Instead, I leaned my arms on his desk and squinted at him, "I actually need your help now, Sir."
Spencer didn't look up.
"I could use some encouragement for my essay." I taunted, tempting him and still, nothing. I sensed his disappointment and my arousal seemed to intensify the more he didn't bear in mine my demands.
I needed him. I wanted him so badly that my mind was cloudy.
Spencer Reid, while a genius and an honest man, was primarily a man and I knew men didn't like other men, or women, hitting on their romantic partners and as I mentioned, Spencer was only a man, "If you won't help me then I could call up, Collin. I'm sure he'll want to assist me with my problem. He's constantly staring in class. He's kind."
"I won't touch you at all if you continue like this." Spencer reminded me and I smirked, happy than he responded to something.
"I'm sure it'll be less shocking than me dating someone who could easily be my professor. How scandalous. I'm sure many think I'm some slut and you—an old perv."
Spencer slammed his hand on the desk and I looked at him. His pupils had darkened and his jaw clenched. He was unquestionably stunning.
His usually puppy-like expression had hardened and I mean, sure, he was pissed and I must have pushed his buttons but that certainly didn't make him any less handsome and me any less horny.
"You don't know when to shut your mouth do you?" He said quite calmly, which greatly juxtaposed his previous outburst that happened only moments earlier and heat rose to my cheeks.
"No Sir, you should punish me." I smiled and feigned innocence, knowing that I was only rubbing well-warranted salt into his opened wound.
"C'mere and sit on my lap until I'm done working."
His demand shouldn't have surprised me. I had sat on Spencer's lap many times, even in public sometimes, and it was never something scandalous or impure.
Spencer was an honorable man, consistently meticulous in his movements and how his hands would touch me—but I could sense that this time he was asking me for something less innocent than the previous times.
Merrily, I jumped onto his desk and his chemise slid up my thigh; uncovering skin to tease him a little more. "I'm not wearing anything but skimpy panties Sir, that would be inappropriate." I smirked, turning towards him.
I crossed my arms, surely he didn't think I would relent that easily? I beamed at him, motionless, and the extreme lust that was burning in Spencer aroused me more as he expressed his ultimatum; his request or nothing.
I certainly didn't want nothing.
Smiling at him, I moved around his desk and straddled him. I wrapped him arms around his nape. "Is that better, Doc?"
His hands clamped around my hips, nails digging into my skin and in consequence, bunching up his chemise and exposing even more skin. I leaned in, my lips skimming his as I grinded my hips. I made a small needy sound into his ear.
"Shh," One hand steadied my hip, "I don't want to hear you. Can you do that?" Spencer's other hand found my hair, and he was pulling on my curls to expose my neck to him. Holding onto his shoulders as he kissed my sensitive skin harshly caused stimulating vibrations and I whined.
"What did I say, Sunshine?" He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding to my ass.
"Y-you said-d you didn't want to hear me." I mumbled when his hands skimmed my pantie's hem teasingly. Without any warnings he snapped the thin string and I jumped, "Spence! Fuck."
However, my complaint didn't matter anymore as his, straining, suit pant came in contact with my naked sex. I moaned and grinded my hips harder.
"I can buy you another pair." Spencer said, "Now don't complain, you wanted this."
I could only whimper as he unzipped his pants, taking his dick and lining up his dick to my soaking entrance. I pushed my head into his shoulder to muddle my moans as he sunk into me.
"Isn't this what you want?" His hands cupped behind my nape, holding me as I nodded into his him at the absolutely torturous lack of movement inside me.
Spencer was a smart man, and knowing him, I was almost sure he could read my mind as my hands clamped around his arms, "Don't move until you have permission, Sunshine."
Punishments like this one would usually make my breathing harshen, but this time I smiled and moaned again. Spencer was always cautious with me; making sure that I liked what was happening and usually cooing praises in my ear. However, his hold returned onto my hips and then his hands slid onto his desk as he continue his work showed me that, tonight, he wasn't planning on being nice.
I don't know how long he continued the charade of him buried deep inside me without any movement, but I was a whining mess. I had shifted on his lap three times: and each one had earned me a quick slap on my ass, Spencer's hand then rubbing around the reddening mark as I whimpered into his shoulder.
My arousal was evident now, I suppose it had been since the beginning but now it was worse and Spencer seemed to bask in the power he currently had over me.
"Shush, I'm finishing up and then you can have what you really want."
I wanted to listen to him and I wanted to be his good girl, I truly did. Only his calloused hands on my exposed skin and the hum from inside his chest was deepening the burning desire inside me. I buried my hands in his hair, holding him and grinding my hips, "P-please daddy." I mumbled wantonly against him.
His hand hit my ass again, harder this time, and I whimpered. However, the pain in my cheek was accompanied by a throbbing inside me and I smiled. Deciding that because Spencer was making this situation hard on me, I wanted to return the favor and I pressed kisses down his neck and up to his collar.
My hands slipped innocently down his shirt and unbuttoned the buttons. I heard his breath hitch as I untied his tie, "Pain won't dissuade me, daddy. I need you."
"You little brat," Spencer groaned as my hand blemished a line down his chest and I bit on his shoulder. It was my favorite thing, marking him as mine. Because he was mine; he was mine as I was his and I wanted everyone to know.
"What you gonna do about that?" I taunted and grinded against him again, "Do you plan on fucking me so hard I can't walk? Making me take you in this position? Or in your bedroom? I wanna know, Spence, have I been a bad?"
I know Spencer saw through me, he always did. But he must have also seen something worth having or even the desperation behind my eyes as I ran my mouth since he pulled me up into his arms, pushing out his chair and standing up.
Instinctively my legs hooked around him, our bodies never once disconnecting as I clung to him. He walked to his auburn, leather, couch in the middle of the living room and I moaned again, expecting him to sit and finally fuck me.
Only, he didn't.
Pulling out cautiously, I whined as Spencer sat me on his couch. He leaned over me, crushing my lips in his hands as he kissed me. Spreading my legs, my hands resting in between them, I blinked up at him with round innocent eyes clouding with pure lust.
"Touch your slutty pussy."
I didn't hesitate, my hand cupping my sex as I bit my lip at him, "I don't wanna." I muttered, pouting, "I want you to touch me."
But, as I said this I moaned inaudibly and pleasured my clit in quick motions.
Spencer undressed, simply staring at me, "You don't seem too unhappy, y/n."
I whined, "Spence, I fucking need you to fuck me." His hand slowly replaced mine as he leaned over me. His lips skimmed my ear, hot breath sending shivers up my spine.
"I know. You're so useless without me; needy and pathetic. But don't you worry, my darling, I'm here." His movements were slower than mine, calculated and deeper. It was like I was his toy, and I suppose I was in some way because he was spreading me open as he bit his lip, concentrating on his movements.
"Please," I couldn't answer him. I didn't know how but I did know I wanted him. Now.
Spencer kissed my temple, his hand on my lower back as he pulled me into him and then laid me on the couch. He hovered over me, hand still in motion as I moaned. He smiled, leaning in to capture my lips in his.
"Okay," Was all he said as his eyes shimmered. He tapped his three fingers onto my lips and I opened, sucking them and tasting me on his skin. It was dirty and naughty but the action only made me hornier as my hands fumbled to unzip his pants. However, when Spencer hooked his thumb in my mouth to silence my moans, my mind was so blurry that my hands didn't listen to my wants and Spencer had continue for me.
"Useless." He hummed in between kisses but behind the cruel word I could only hear his love. I knew that he absolutely adored me and that he was also in this relationship without me. I had him wrapped around my pinky and I couldn't ask for anything more.
Once his tip pressed against my hole, I grunted and wrapped my legs around him. "Spencer, please." He groaned, kissing my cheeks and pushing in.
No matter how many times he fucked me, I was never used to him. Maybe it was more because I loved him so much that whenever he was this close I couldn't be anything but happy. Or, maybe it was because Spencer knew exactly how to use what he was given.
As he thrusted once into me, slow and deep, I began to think my second assumption was the truth as I cried out. It was a little much, like everything inside me was falling apart in the best way possible. I squirmed, hands digging into Spencer's shoulders as I clung to him.
I had tears brimming as his slow thrusts continued. "You're amazing, look at you taking me like a champ. Is this what you wanted?"
I whispered a small "Yes", whining.
"Or this?" Spencer snapped his hips, holding onto the couches arm behind me and thrusted again until I squealed, clenching around him. "Does my little baby want more? Would fucking you harder make you happy, slut?"
I nodded, "Yes, please Spence."
His hand went down to my cheeks, slapping them a little as his pounding continued. I could sense every single movement and his hand tautened around my throat and he squeezed. I smiled, pulling him in even more.
"You know, you used to be innocent when I met you." Spencer breathed, peppering my skin with his sloppy kisses, "So fucking innocent, and now look what I did to you." He murmured, thrusting particularly hard and I cried out, the sound muffled in my throat. He was pressing hard now, but I trusted him. Spencer would never intentionally hurt me, and he was the smartest person I knew, he would know if I was in pain.
Seeing that I had almost no more air, Spencer's hand unclenched and he used his thumb to wipe my tears, "You know it turns me on when you cry, you look so lovely." I moaned, so close as the pressure in my pussy was increasing.
Suddenly, Spencer pulled me up onto him again and when he was in an upright position, I sunk onto him again and mewled. "Come on, little girl, bounce."
He didn't need to ask me again. I put my hands on his shoulders, slowly bouncing. It was an entirely different angle and I moaned, my pleasure only accentuated by Spencer's grunts as his arms wrapped around me harder. He was whispering incoherent sentences into my skin, nails almost scratching my sides as my bouncing became more frantic.
"Such a good girl, I love you so much." Spencer groaned. He must have seen how I was shaking now because his hands clamped around my hips and he had taken over, forcing me harshly onto his dick as I buried my face into his shoulder.
"I have to do everything, don't I, princess?" He said hoarsely.
I couldn't even answer, muffling my moans into his shoulder. I didn't want to ask for permission to come. I was so close I could just do it now and he wouldn't be able to stop me. But, I knew that being disobedient had consequences and I really wanted him to come inside me. Which was something he only did when I was good.
"Daddy, sir, can I come?" I whined. Spencer continued bringing me down onto his dick, one hand now rubbing my clit. He sucked on my throat, most likely creating marks even my foundation couldn't conceal and he shook his head.
"A little longer."
I pulled in his hair, arching and squealing as he thumb continued to abuse my swollen clit, "No-mmh, no I can't. Please, so g-good. You fuck me so good, please!" I was a mess. One Spencer clearly enjoyed turning me into one because I heard him laugh.
"Needy slut, you want to come on my dick?" He taunted.
I struggled to look at him, biting my lip so hard to suppress my needy sounds. He smiled at me, one harsh bounce sending more tears down my cheeks. I nodded, because fuck that was the only thing I could do in this position.
Spencer kissed my lips, "I'm close too, can you wait until I come?"
I didn't want to, but I also wanted to make him happy so I mumbled a small "Yes." as again, I buried my nose into his shoulder, whimpering. His hand cupped my head, whispering praises that turned more and more into mumbling as he continued bouncing me onto him.
His hand gripped my hair, straining on it and I hissed. I wasn't in pain but the tug had been harsh enough that Spencer loosened his hold. He kissed me again, pulling me into him so that his lips skimmed my ear, "One day, I'm gonna fuck a baby into you if you continue letting me do this." He grinned, "You would like that wouldn't you? You'd truly be mine then."
I opened my mouth to answer him, only small grunts and moans escaped my lips instead. Spencer put his hand on my nape, pulling me into him and kissing me again; "It's okay, I know." He smiled, groaning and thrusted his hips into me.
When he came, I bit down on his shoulder. I was an incoherent mess at this point I wanted to cum so badly. I tried to bounce again, only to slump down on Spencer and have him continue, "I-I can't." I moaned, holding onto him as my insides churred. I could sense the pressure in my abdomen and Spencer chuckled.
"Okay, go on. Come on me, little girl."
Instantly, I cried out and completely collapsed onto him. My entire body burned, skin damp with sweat as his shirt stuck to my skin. Spencer kissed my head, "You did so well Sunshine, such a good girl." He praised.
I wanted him closer to me so I hugged him, hands pulling on his shoulders. Spencer let me stay like that a while, our bodies this close as our breathing synchronized. "I think it's time to run a shower." He murmured, hand in my hair as he played with the strands.
"Mmmh, I have an essay." I muttered, my words slurring.
Spencer chest heaved as he laughed, "I promise I'll look it over but I want to clean you up, Please let me and then I can help with your essay, darling."
I let him help me into the shower, his hands in my hair as he massaged the shampoo in and trailed kisses over my sensitive neck. I clung to him the entire time and once he had washed me and himself, he dressed me in his comfiest sweater and sat me in his armchair.
Spencer was dressed again and I whined, "I want you here."
He smiled, kissing my head, “I am here, you need to work though so I’ll be in the other armchair."
I shook my head quickly, "Spence," I said, "Can I sit on your lap?"
Spencer grinned, looking at me amused, "Do you plan on behaving this time?" I nodded, pouting. He couldn't seem to resist my pout as he sat on the armchair instead. He pulled me onto his lap. He had handed me my laptop and I snuggled against his chest.
"I love you, Spencer, thanks for taking care of me."
"Always, Sunshine, always. I love you more than life." He murmured, hand over my waist as he leaned his chin on my shoulder.
I let out a low gasp, turned my body a little to look at him round eyed. "Spencer Walter Reid," I squealed, "don't you dare say that. You can't die on me."
Spencer smiled, "I don't plan to, don't worry."
I sulked, turning to my computer again. I blinked at the screen. I was completely unmotivated now. I turned to Spencer again, "Help me?"
"You're insatiable, Sunshine." He moved his hand lower.
"I meant with the essay, Spencer! I'm sore enough, I don't think I could handle another orgasm."
"Is that a challenge?" My suddenly sassy boyfriend murmured into my ear. I giggled, his warm breath causing shivers up my spine. He kissed down my jaw and I wiggled in his lap, laughing now as I attempted to escape his touch.
"Spencer, no. I'm serious about working."
"And I was serious about working too, that didn't stop you." He sucked on my neck.
I pushed on his arm, jumping from his lap, turning around and crossing my arms, "I'm serious."
"You're cute when you pout."
"Spencer, I'll bite you." I warned, my smirk proudly displayed now.
"Is that a promise? Because that turns me on."
I burst into laughter which only made him grin wider.
"I'm leaving." I pretended only to have Spencer jump up and wrap his arms around me again. I grinned as he spun me around and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him now as I returned his kiss.
"I have you trapped, little girl." He mumbled into my mouth.
"I think I like being trapped then." I said, holding him closer.