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gubler-me-up · 10 months ago
Who’s Your Daddy?
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Request: Can I request one where the reader is like Hotch’s daughter and her and Spencer hook up but he doesn’t know until she walks in one day looking for her dad.
A/N: Thanks for the prompt anon! Oh yes, the classic “I didn’t know I slept with my boss’s daughter” prompt. I think Reid’s asking for an early grave, don’t you? This is my longest request so far omg but it didn’t feel long while writing it. Anyway, hope you really enjoy!! (Part 2 available here)
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader (Hotch’s daughter)
Category: SMUT
Content warning: Penetrative sex, swearing, degradation, orgasm (female and male), oral sex (male receiving), facial, masturbation (female and male), unprotected sex
Word count: 4.7k
Working full-time as a manager at a bookstore was pretty mundane to you. It was almost like going into work brain dead every day because you dealt with the same things every shift. Ordering new books, making sure books were put into the right places, keeping an eye out for thefts and making sure the owner wasn’t always on your ass.
You were only working there because it paid you well enough to save towards your master’s degree. After graduating from university you postponed doing your master’s until you were sure what field you wanted to study. Spending the last two years working there was boring and all, but for the last two months things had become interesting for you.
A so-called doctor had come into the bookstore two months ago to purchase a book. You remember distinctly him walking up to the cash register. He looked as if he was in a rush to go somewhere. You assumed he made a quick stop before heading to work by the way he was dressed in a suit.
As soon as you saw the book he wanted to purchase, you scoffed. He stopped looking for his wallet when he heard you. He looked at you with a confused and slightly annoyed face.
“How shallow-minded are you? To Engineer is Human: The Role of Failure in Successful Design? Really?” You said.
“Excuse me?”
He looked at you appalled by your attitude in his book choice. You didn’t care though. You’ve never been shy to tell a customer they had poor taste in books and often helped them find better reads successfully.
“You’re better off reading The Design of Everyday Things. It talks about how people use design-”
“I know, I’ve read it. Anyway, can I just pay for this? I’m running late,” he said as he took out his wallet.
You chuckled. “You chose to run late to work because you wanted to purchase this? Now that’s stupid.”
He looked at you unamused. “Does your manager let you talk like this to every customer.”
You smiled as you rang him up. “First off, I am the manager and second, I only try to guide people towards books actually worth their time. I think you should be thanking me if anything.”
“I should be thanking you for recommending a book I’ve already read?” He asked.
“Well, most people haven’t read it yet,” you said as you bagged his book.
“Well, I’m not most people,” he said as he took the bag from you.
You raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh? Who are you then?”
“Dr. Spencer Reid.”
“Well then, hello, doctor, my name is Y/N. I’d love to see you back here and leave with a better choice next time,” you joked.
“Maybe,” he said.
Ever since that day he had been back every chance he could. He amused you at the way he got so bothered by your playful critiques and side comments. He never stopped coming back though and buying books, so you had to be doing something right.
You had found out so much about him through just briefly talking to him when he entered the store and when he left each time. Three PhD’s, he had a Las Vegas past, he could do magic tricks and he travelled a lot for work. The more you learned about him, the more you found him attractive.
Even though sometimes you could annoy him with your mannerisms he never failed to be invested in what was going on in your life. He was intrigued by your pursuit to get your master’s in engineering. When you told him about it for the first time he hit you with statistics about female engineers being criminally mistreated. You took that as his way of saying he was proud of you for sticking to it.
The more you two talked and saw each other started to make you think of him outside of work. You would think about the way he licked his lips as he concentrated on every word you said. How his large hands would move with such grace as he spoke. The way his hair would look like he just had sex and had no time to tame it before having to run to work.
You wanted to experience him. It could be once or even multiple times, but you just wanted to know what Dr. Spencer Reid was like behind closed doors. You decided it was time to see if he wanted to experience you as well.
You had spent the last few hours of your shift reorganizing bookshelves, so everything was in its right place. You were in the philosophy section trying to fix the mess some wannabe Socrates had made. You pulled Friedrich Nietzsche’s Will to Power off the shelf to place it in its respected section. Before putting it away, you decided to read the back to see what it was all about. You had never actually gotten into philosophy, but Spencer always told you about Nietzsche’s work, so you decided to take the time to take a look.
“Virtue is under certain circumstances merely an honorable form of stupidity: who could be ill-disposed toward it on that account? And this kind of virtue has not been outlived even today.”
You knew that familiar, know-it-all voice coming from behind you. You turned around to see Spencer looking a bit more dressed down than usual. He was wearing a pink buttoned up shirt with the first two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up with a pair of black trousers. You rarely saw him this way, but then again you usually saw him on his way to work or he had just finished work.
You smiled at him. “I’m guessing you’re quoting the good ol’ Nietz.”
“If Nietzsche was still alive I can guarantee you he would have hated the fact you nicknamed him that,” he said with a chuckle.
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Whatever. What brings you here on a Saturday evening anyway?”
“Oh, I just came here to inform you The Existential Pleasures of Engineering, you know, the book you recommended to me last week, was completely vague and an embarrassment to the psychology of engineers,” he said.
You gasped. “An embarrassment to the psychology of engineers? Choo-choo the stupidity trains back and they’d like to take you back to stupid town.”
He surprisingly chuckled at your reaction. He looked over to the front counter and pointed at it. You followed his point to see a book on it with a receipt. The audacity he had was kind of hot you had to admit. You looked at him with a pout and crossed arms.
“You’re really going to return it?” You asked, trying your best to give him your best puppy dog eyes.
“Yup and I want a full refund too,” he said.
You dropped your arms and rolled your eyes as you took the walk of shame towards the cash register. You walked behind the counter to get started on his refund. As you stared at the book on the counter, you felt the urge to act then.
You grabbed the permanent marker from the counter and took off the cap. To Spencer’s surprise, you yanked his arm towards you. On his exposed forearm you wrote down your number. In the corner of your eye, you saw his eyes widen. You couldn’t quite tell if it was in shock or excitement.
“Y/N, what are you doing?” He asked as he looked at the number on his arm.
“I’m not refunding your purchase until you give me a real reason you didn’t like it. It’s not vague and it’s not an embarrassment to engineer’s psyches,” you said.
He was thrown off by your tone, but his face soon softened. You don’t think he’s ever looked so subdued around you. He didn’t even challenge you back right away, which he normally did any chance he got.
“Oh? Is that why you gave me your number? So I can call you later to give you a real reason or the reason you want to hear,” he said, holding up his arm.
“I don’t just want you to call to tell me. I want to meet you outside of here, so we can discuss this,” you said.
He dropped his arm down to his side. He looked at you as if he was trying to read you. He narrowed his eyes. He still had that soft look as a small smile emerged on his face.
“And how do you propose we discuss your poor choice in books?” He asked.
“Whatever an in-person discussion is like with Dr. Spencer Reid. I want to experience it. I want to experience you,” you said as you placed your palms on the counter, leaning forward.
He didn’t flinch at you getting closer to him. He just allowed you to be close to him. If you could jump over the counter and make out with him then and there you wouldn’t hesitate. His smile turned into a sly smirk as he slid the book closer to you.
“What does experiencing me even mean?” He asked.
“Whatever it means to you,” you said.
You knew he knew exactly what you were talking about. In his eyes, you could see a desire spark in him. He leaned in ever so slightly to your face. Your noses were almost touching. Your heart raced as he stared intently into your eyes.
“Okay, but when I call, don’t keep me waiting. I hate wasting my time,” he said.
You smiled. “Deal.”
With the controversial book in your left hand, you used your right hand to knock on Spencer Reid’s door. A part of you never thought he would actually call you to his place tonight. It was around 11:30 p.m. and you had never seen him after 6:30 p.m. on his latest visits to the bookstore. Seeing him outside of the bookstore, especially at his place, was even more riveting.
You hoped he wasn’t actually going to give you a big lecture on the flaws he found while reading. You didn’t think you could stand the sexual tension any longer. Hopefully, he felt the same way and would just grab you, hold you down and fuck the shit out of you.
You heard his door unlock and was greeted by him in the same clothes he was wearing a few hours ago. Unlike a few hours ago he looked completely undone. His shirt was untucked, he wasn’t wearing a belt and his hair flopped down in his face.
“It looks as if you weren’t expecting company or you didn’t care enough to impress said company,” you said.
He stepped aside to let you in. “I just made myself comfortable.”
You stepped into his place. The dimmed lighting bouncing off the dark green walls made for an eerily calm atmosphere. You definitely took note of all the overly packed bookshelves and the books which were misplaced on his desk.
“For someone who has no more space for books you sure do come by the store a lot,” you said as you looked back at him.
“I love to read. Well, I love to read good books at least,” he said as he looked at your left hand.
You looked down at the book in your hand and rolled your eyes. You placed it on his side table that was already piling up books on it. On the table, you also noticed an FBI case file. You only knew what those files looked like because your dad used to have piles of them at home. A quick thought passed through your mind, but decided regardless it made no difference in your life.
You then made your way to the back of his couch. As you leaned on it, you couldn’t take your eyes off of how Spencer just watched you move. He didn’t look confused or ask you any questions. He just watched you.
You directed his attention to the book pile. “See, it fits perfectly.”
“I knew you weren’t here for a book experience,” he said as he walked towards you.
You smirked. “I’m glad your common sense is better than your sense of good books.”
He now stood in front of you. You resisted touching his chest and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He couldn’t know you were desperate for him even though the number stunt you pulled early may have given you away.
“I know what you want, Y/N. To say I’m not intrigued by this idea of engaging in sex with you would make me a liar, but I’m not sure about it,” he confessed.
You groaned. “How come? It doesn’t have to be anything extravagant, it could be quick. I don’t mind doing it anywhere or everywhere. We could do it on the couch. Don’t worry, I’ll be as silent as a mouse.”
You walked towards a closed-door you assumed was his bedroom. You opened it up as if it were your room which shocked Spencer. If he didn’t know how bold you were before he knew then. You leaned against the door frame of his doorway as if you were a sexy guardian guarding the entrance to the bedroom.
“Or I can give you head on top of your bed,” you said with a smile.
He rolled his eyes at your goofy behaviour. Though he seemed annoyed you knew he enjoyed every second of it. If he didn’t he would have kicked you out already.
“You’re aspiring to be Dr. Seuss now?” he asked as he walked back over to you.
You chuckled. “Just call me Dr. Seuss’s lovechild, but don’t worry, we won’t make our own tonight. I’m on birth control and STD free if you want to check the papers I brought. They’re in the book we shall not mention.”
“Wow, you’ve prepared yourself well. It still doesn’t take away the fact you’re irritating,” he said.
You placed your arms on his chest as you looked seductively into his big hazel eyes. You knew you irritated him, but you liked knowing you made him feel something. You made Spencer Reid’s blood boil. You made him think deeply about you. About his desires toward you.
“Well, I’m not opposed to changing my ways if I had someone to keep my attitude in check,” you said.
In one swift motion, you felt his right hand grip your face with such a force you nearly lost your balance. He pulled your face close to him to make sure you didn’t break any eye contact with him. You wouldn’t have taken your eyes off of him regardless, but his forcefulness made you feel alive.
“I want you stripped and on your knees now,” he said.
His voice was so gentle when he said it, but the darkness hidden in his voice was enough to get you wet. He pushed away your face which made you stagger backward still in a state of a daze. You snapped out of it immediately as you saw him watching your every move with such care, yet so impatiently. You wanted to show him you being there wasn’t a waste of his time.
You pulled off your shirt, took off your bra, kicked off your shoes and pulled down your pants along with your underwear. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Spencer watching you. It felt as if you were his object of desire he wanted to ruin. You would let him ruin you any day of the week. All he ever had to do was ask and you would be back in a heartbeat.
You dropped to your knees as you waited for his next move. He didn’t move from his spot. You looked at him confused as you were anxiously waiting for him to do something.
“Spread your legs open and finger yourself,” he demanded.
You let out a groan and rolled your eyes. “Really? I could have masturbated at home. Why don’t you come over here and do it for me?”
He shook his head in disappointment. “See, that’s your problem, Y/N. You have no humility. I want to see you vulnerable before we do anything.”
You and your quick mouth was about to say something in detest to his statement, but calmed yourself down. Maybe he had a valid point about your humility problem. You sighed as you stuck two of your fingers in your mouth to get them wet and then started to finger yourself. You slightly closed your eyes from the pleasure you were giving yourself.
“I want your eyes on me the whole time, Y/N,” you heard Spencer demand.
You opened up your eyes and did what he asked. He had his malicious smirk on as he watched your fingers continuously pump in and out of you. The way he stared at you made you wetter as your thoughts wandered. You thought about how amazing it would feel when he decided to finally fuck you.
“How does that feel?” He asked you.
“It feels…it feels good,” you moaned.
“I’m glad,” he said as he walked over to you.
He stood in front of you as he stripped himself from his shirt. You looked in amazement at his core. He looked even hotter without his shirt on. Just a tall, lean figure getting ready to give you what you both wanted.
“Tell me, Y/N, what do you want? I want to hear you voice your fantasy,” he said.
“I-I…I want…” You moaned.
He saw how difficult it was for you to put together a coherent sentence. He grabbed your face again to make you switch your focus from pleasure to answering the question. When he grabbed your face you only wanted to focus on what he was saying and what he wanted, which he already caught onto.
“I can’t understand you, Y/N,” he teased.
“I want you to fuck me hard,” you nearly shouted.
He squeezed your lips together as he leaned down to give you an overbearing make out. His lips were so soft, but the way his tongue moved was so rough. You wanted to feel it on your clit next. You would probably die happy if it happened. He leaned up and looked you in the eyes.
“You can stop fingering yourself. I don’t want you to orgasm just yet,” he said.
Thank God he said it when he did because you could feel yourself about to go over the edge. You pulled your fingers out and without missing a beat, he pulled down his pants and underwear. The excitement you felt when you finally saw his dick wasn’t even describable. You moved forward to start sucking it, but he pulled your hair to jolt your head back.
You looked up at him annoyed. “Why not?”
“You know you act stupid for some sex,” he said.
“Well, I’m a stupid whore then. I don’t care just let me-”
Before you could finish your sentence, he moved your head forward to place his dick in your mouth. You gladly gagged on it as he rocked his hips back and forth. You looked up at him to see if he was enjoying the sight of you choking on his dick. He was.
“A stupid whore you are. If this is all I had to do to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago,” he said.
You wished he had done it a long time ago. You would have gladly blown him in the back storage room if he ever asked. There’s always next time though if he’d let you.
He pulled your head back and watched as a string of saliva broke from your mouth to his dick. He pulled you up by your hair. He brought you in for another hot and quick make out as he stepped out of his trousers and underwear fully. He moved you backward until you felt the mattress behind you. He broke the kiss so he could gently lift you up onto the bed and you sprawled yourself out on it.
“Hold your legs back,” he demanded.
You didn’t hesitate to do what he said because you knew the quicker you did what he asked, the quicker he acted. He immediately started to graze his tongue along your folds and he used two of his long fingers to finger you. You let out a desperate moan as you watched him. As you hope for, his tongue repeatedly went over your clit and you could feel a tingle shoot up you.
“Spencer, I’m-”
“Don’t,” he demanded.
“Then just fuck me already,” you screamed.
In an instant switch, he grabbed your thighs to pull you forward and you felt him ram his dick into you. Your mouth fell open as you tilted your head back in so much pleasure you felt as if you were on cloud nine. You moaned louder and louder with every stroke. You wanted to say coherent sentences to him, but nothing was coming out probably. Just a lot of swearing and calling the Lord’s name in vain.
“Who’s the stupid one now?” He mocked.
“I am,” you moaned.
“You’re a stupid what?” He asked.
“I’m a stupid, stupid whore,” you moaned.
You yelped in pleasure as you felt his thumb circling your clit. It felt so good it brought tears to roll down your eyes. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Spencer, I have to,” you said.
He smirked. “Go ahead.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice as your body jolted as your orgasm ran through your body. Your eyes rolled back in utter satisfaction as your hands loosened their grips on your leg. Spencer pulled out and dragged your limp body off the bed to the ground. You kneeled on the ground with his dick in front of your face.
“Open,” he demanded.
You obeyed as you opened your mouth and watched with hooded eyes as he jerked himself off. He held your head steady by having his other hand entangled in your hair. Even though you felt limp and tired you still felt the excitement of when it started.
“Does the stupid whore want my cum all over her face?” He asked.
You smiled. “Yeah.”
He yanked your hair. “Full sentences.”
“Yes, I do. I’m a stupid cum whore,” you said.
With that you felt his cum splatter on your face, some getting into your mouth. You gladly swallowed any of it that went into your mouth as you looked up at him with so much satisfaction in your eyes. He smiled back at you as he let go of your hair. He stroked your face and put his thumb in your mouth. You sucked off any drops on his thumb as it entered your mouth.
He removed his hand from your face as he went into the washroom. He came out with a wet washcloth. He knelt in front of you. He started wiping off his cum from your face with the warm cloth, making sure to get any of it that may have gotten in your hair as well.
You smiled. “You know, I think I can get used to this treatment.”
He smirked. “The less talking you do the higher your chances.”
You playfully rolled your eyes. You placed both of your hands on his face. You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. His face became so soft at the feeling of your touch. How could he be adorable and hot all at once.
“If I never irritated you for two months, this probably would have never happened,” you said.
“You’re right, it would have happened faster,” he joked.
You laughed as you leaned in and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. You hoped this was the start of something. You didn’t exactly know what, but something.
You had to go into the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia early Monday morning to see your dad. He wanted to talk to you about your future studies and discuss how much he had to pay for your tuition. You both had come to an agreement that you would earn half if he paid the rest. Originally he wanted to pay the whole thing, but you couldn’t let him do that.
You definitely got your stubborn perseverance from him. That was probably the personality trait he admired the most about you. Ever since you decided you wanted to send yourself off to boarding school overseas he knew you had a burning independence in you. You had to admit you hated the fact you missed out of a lot of things in your dad’s life and your little brother’s life especially after your mom had passed away.
Regardless, over a decade later you wanted to maintain your relationship with your dad. You loved him dearly. That never changed when you left. Some would even label you as a daddy’s girl. Hell, you’d label yourself as such too.
As you stepped off the elevator, a memory came back into your mind. You remember on Saturday when you were at Spencer’s place you saw an FBI case file. He had never classified his profession other than he travelled a lot. You never bothered to inquire about it because you didn’t think it was necessary to force him to tell you.
When you walked through the glass doors your suspicions were confirmed when you saw a head of messy brown hair sitting at a cubicle. The books on the table were even more of a giveaway. You thought you saw one he just recently bought from you this month sitting at the end of his desk.
You made your way towards where his cubicle was. He was deep in concentration on a case file he was going through to even notice you come behind him. Before you could tap his shoulder, someone from behind you said something.
“Oh, hey Y/N. Very long time no see. You’ve definitely grown up a lot.”
You faintly remembered the voice as Derek Morgan’s. You remember meeting him a few times before going to boarding school. You smiled and waved at him.
“Nice seeing you too, Derek,” you greeted.
You turned around to see Spencer in complete shock. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so speechless in the short time you’ve known him. You gave him a smile and a delicate little wave.
“What are you doing here?” He managed to say.
Derek looked at him weirdly. “Kid, don’t you know this is-”
“Y/N,” you heard your dad say.
All three of you watched as he walked over to you with open arms. You excitedly embraced him in a tight hug. You could see how utterly confused Spencer was at everything going on around him in the last few seconds.
Your dad pulled away from the hug. He looked over at Spencer since he too could see the confusion on his face. He held you by his side tightly, making sure Spencer could see both of you clearly facing him.
“Reid, this is my daughter Y/N. She left for boarding school a few years before you joined the BAU. Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, our resident genius” he explained.
If Spencer could have fallen off his chair right then and there and never get up you thought he’d feel better. He couldn’t even conjure the words to say at that statement. You took the honour to introduce yourself to him.
“Hi, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to meet you,” you said with an innocent smile on.
Spencer saw right through your disguise of innocence as he knew what your devious smile truly looked like. You turned your attention away from him as you opened your arms again for another hug from your dad. He leaned in and gave you another hug.
“I’m so glad we get to spend time together today, daddy. There’s no one I’d rather spend my day with.”
You turned your head to face Spencer as you were still interlocked in a hug with your dad. You gave him a wink and kiss as he looked at you dumbfounded. You giggled to yourself at his expression. Life could be so funny sometimes.
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poguesofthebau · 11 months ago
private display of affection
summary: garcia wants to see pda, because she’s garcia, and she loves love. you and spencer, however, don’t tend to give her much pda to admire. so the rest of the team sets out to catch you two acting as in love as they know you are.
word count: 4k (my longest ever on this blog wtf) pairing: spencer reid x female!reader, ft. the team
a/n: this one is a lot of funny team stuff, with the inevitable wholesome reid x reader stuff. in my personal opinion, the end of this is one of the most adorable descriptions of love my brain has ever come up with. in conclusion... i love spencer more than anyone.
“i hate hotch.”
morgan scoffed a laugh, glancing up from his paperwork to find penelope standing in his doorway, clearly upset over something with her arms crossed childishly across her chest. the sight of her made him chuckle again, taking in the bright colors strewn across her body in combination with the unusually unhappy expression she wore. it didn’t quite match her outfit. “what can i do for you, mama?”
“you can make me hate hotch less. talk some sense into him. allow some of us around her a smidgen of happiness, serenity, wholesomeness, love, something! i mean, seriously, why does he--”
“penelope,” derek sang, finally succumbing to her rant as he put down his pen and leaned back in his office chair. “as much as you know i love you, you should also know that your brain is not my brain, so i have no clue what you’re talking about, baby girl.”
“hotch,” penelope sighed dramatically, stepping further into the room and glancing longingly out the blinds before dropping into the chair across from her friend. “hotch is ruining this team’s opportunity for some daily serotonin via everyone’s favorite, most innocent, most adorable couple of federal agents ever.” as she explained herself, her arms were flailing about, ending with a dramatic point out the window toward where you and reid were sitting in the bullpen. derek followed her arm to see you two, both hunched over paperwork at your respective desks, completely unaware of the distress penelope was currently experiencing, which somehow revolved around you.
you and reid had been in love for a long time. the rest of the team had to watch you two pine over one another for months before finally admitting your feelings and getting together. everyone was ecstatic for the two of you, and made it very clear how relieved they were to finally know you were together, but for whatever reason, your behavior in the office (and while away on cases) didn’t change as much as they’d expected. you still acted the same, the only difference really being that instead of secretly admiring one another from across a room with the torture of potentially unrequited love keeping you apart, you were now able to exchange those glances with one another, communicating your love through looks you’d once hidden.
“baby girl,” derek said with an understanding smirk. “i don’t think reid is even capable of showing affection in a public place, first of all. and, second of all, we can’t really blame hotch for that, can we? i mean, everybody knows the lovebirds are lovebirds, but that can’t take away from their work. maybe it’s for the best.”
penelope opened her mouth to argue, clearly offended by his words, but was cut off by the chime of morgan’s phone receiving a notification. he glanced down at the screen, seeing “We have a case. Conference room.” plastered across his screen. he stood from his chair, pulling garcia from hers and wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder as he dragged her from the room. “i hate hotch,” she said one final time, before allowing her friend to lead her to the conference room where the rest of the team was now waiting.
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the jet ride on the way to that case was when the rest of the team started to realize that something was upsetting penelope. jj was the first to notice, immediately recognizing the look she wore as her “i’m still a ray of sunshine but i’m mad” look the moment garcia’s face popped up on the laptop screen. emily was the next to see it, being caught off guard by her low tone of voice and lack of decorative pet names. you squinted a little to make sure you weren’t imagining the displeasure she seemed to be wearing proudly. when you looked to derek to see if he’d noticed the same thing, you registered the knowing smirk he wore along with the excessively upbeat ring to his words and automatically knew he was aware of something no one else was.
you looked to your right, where spencer was sat beside you, and couldn’t fight a smile as you caught him deep in thought, eyes quickly scanning the case file in front of him. seeing your boyfriend in his element like that always brought a swell of happiness to your chest, no matter how gruesome the work he was focused on really was. you simply loved spencer, and loved seeing him doing what he was best at. before you could get too wrapped up in your love bubble, the words coming from the laptop speakers popped it. “oh, there she goes! agent hotchner, aren’t y/n’s eyes of adoration, those ones she only has when she looks at reid, aren’t they the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? even though we barely get to see them, because--”
“focus, baby girl,” derek reminded her, smirk still adorning his face as his eyes flickered between his case files, you, reid, and penelope’s face on the screen. your eyebrows shot up in surprise at being called out, and it took you a second to process that garcia had truly just outed your so-called eyes of adoration to your boss. still, spencer hadn’t flinched. hotch, on the other hand, seemed slightly disturbed by the tech analyst’s pointed comment. as you took in the scene before you, trying to figure out why garcia was so mad at hotch, you felt a hand drop onto your thigh. naturally, yours fell on top of the one you immediately recognized as spencer’s, and allowed your mind to return to the facts of the case while emily steered the conversation back to where it needed to be.
you made a mental note to call derek out on his withheld knowledge later.
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before you had the opportunity to pull derek into a quiet hallway at the local police station and interrogate him about what he knew, hotch was shipping you and spencer off to the m.e.’s to see what you could learn from the bodies of the victims. so, while you were gone, hotch stole the opportunity from you.
“morgan,” he called, nodding his head in silent instruction for the man to follow him. the two moved a safe distance away from the rest of the team, just out of earshot as the rest of them began to bounce around potential theories, and hotch turned to morgan with a stern look. “is there something garcia thinks i need to know about?”
morgan scoffed, shaking his head with a small smile. “hotch, man, you know how she gets. she’s just a little pissed at your ‘no pda’ rule for reid and y/l/n. she’ll be over it soon.”
“i’m sorry, my ‘no pda’ rule?”
morgan paused, searching hotch’s face for any sign that he was telling one of his rare jokes. when he was certain hotch had meant his question, his face contorted, clearly showing his confusion. “did you not make a ‘no pda’ rule? because garcia is pretty sure you did.”
hotch shook his head, still not sure what a nonexistent rule had to do with anything. “no, i didn’t. i didn’t think it’d be necessary.”
morgan nodded slowly, hotch’s attention then being grabbed by the chief of police walking by. as he walked away, morgan called out to hotch one last time. “i’ll let garcia know.”
“let garcia know what?” emily’s voice was travelling over to where morgan stood, still slightly stunned in confusion. he looked up, seeing jj and emily staring back at him expectantly. he mentally shook some of the confusion away, moving back to where the others were standing before responding.
“c’mon, morgan,” jj insisted, a playful smile on her lips. “we all know garcia’s upset about something-- she’s not the best at hiding her feelings.”
“if you nosy ladies must know, she was a little upset that the lovebirds don’t exactly act like lovebirds at work. she thought hotch made some ‘no pda’ rule, but that theory was just debunked.”
“wait, so hotch didn’t tell them to keep their hands to themselves?” emily questioned doubtfully.
“no way. they’re obsessed with each other. why else would they act all professional?” jj wasn’t convinced either.
“hotch just told me to my face that he never made any rules, so i’m starting to ask that question too. maybe we just don’t notice their weirdly cute and nerdy tendencies.”
“eh,” emily doubted again, shaking her head as jj stood beside her and hummed in agreement. “we’re profilers, and on top of that, they’re our friends. do you really think we could miss that?”
“i don’t know, guys. they’re profilers too-- maybe they figured out how to fly under the radar.” so the team made an agreement. when you and spencer returned from your trip to the medical examiner’s, they would keep their eyes peeled. they’d called garcia to catch her up to speed on hotch’s lack of her suspected order, along with the plan they’d hatched in her absence. (she was shocked to hear that her assumptions were wrong, and even more irked that derek thought your love could fly under her self-declared spectacular love radar.) the girls didn’t necessarily agree, but morgan was certain that they’d see something romantic if they paid enough attention.
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to say the least, the team’s behavior was obsessive. the moment you and spencer stepped foot into the police station, you could feel eyes on you. upon your arrival, you glanced back at spencer, who had held the door open for you and let you enter first, to see if he was noticing the same thing that you were. he was. he shrugged to you, focusing his energy more on updating the team on your discoveries from the m.e. than on figuring out why all your friends were staring. for the first hour that you were working from the police station, you tried to ignore it. if spencer wasn’t worrying about the suspicious behavior, why should you?
but then, penelope called. in reality, she had information to pass along that she’d been asked to gather, but that wasn’t her immediate concern when she dialed derek. “how are my lovebirds?”
hearing penelope’s greeting, you looked up to derek with a suspecting look, eyes narrowed and head slightly tilted, and he cleared his throat (partially to let her know you were in the room, and partially to keep himself from laughing). “baby girl, you’re on speaker. lovebirds present.”
“yeah, lovebirds present,” you echoed, the discontent you were feeling obvious in your voice. as you grilled derek while he carried on with his call, spencer had his eyes locked on you from his spot in the seat to your right. unbeknownst to him, jj and emily were across the room, intensely observing the entire moment. the look on spencer’s face as he watched you get a little annoyed with your friends for their shiftiness could only be described as complete adoration. it wasn’t written on his face, necessarily, but both emily and jj could easily perceive that look in the doctor’s eye. for a solid minute, spencer didn’t look anywhere but at you. what they didn’t know, though, was what he was thinking.
she’s so beautiful. even when she’s annoyed. even when she’s annoyed over something that so clearly has to do with us, and our friends. how is one person so beautiful?
when spencer was able to pull himself out of his own love struck gaze, he discreetly uncrossed his legs, allowing his to rest against the side of yours-- a little gesture you’d both taken to during cases when the other was growing a little irritated with things. feeling him make contact with you made you relax a little, shifting yourself in your chair so your weight was more directed to him as the phone call shifted to actual relevant information.
across the room, emily was gripping jj’s arm, a giant grin on her face as the two women realized that derek had been right. no matter how small the moment, they’d caught it-- slight, slight pda in the workplace. so hotch hadn’t lied.
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by the end of that night, you’d solved the case. the psychopath of the week was now locked away in a cell, and, for one night, the team was able to rest easy. the only downside to the rest you’d all be getting that night was that it had to be in the same town you’d just captured a psychotic serial killer. hotch had passed along the message that, for a reason you didn’t really sympathize with, the jet couldn’t leave the ground until the next morning. so, grumpy and exhausted as ever, you followed the rest of the team’s actions of gathering their belongings from the police station and heading back to the hotel. none of you had to be paired up for rooms, but you hoped hotch would allow you and spencer to share a room for the night. on the way out of the station, you and spencer caught up to hotch, spencer immediately beginning to rant. “hey, hotch? do you mind if we, uh, share a room for the night? because, i mean, regardless of what you say, the odds of us winding up in one room despite your separating us are--” before he could get started with percentages and statistics, you placed a hand on spencer’s arm, spence quickly stopping himself from spewing out a surge of information. 
“hotch, please? the budget committee would be really happy to see one less hotel room charge for the night.” as you spoke, your hand slipped into spencer’s, fingers lacing together naturally. at your interjection, hotch smiled lightly at both of you, nodding quickly. “thanks, hotch.”
“be safe, lovebirds,” hotch called before hopping into the suv that rossi was waiting for him in.
and, conveniently enough, that forced you and spencer to pack into the other suv with jj, morgan, and emily. when spencer opened the back door, he was faced with emily’s phone. more specifically, her phone camera. “are you-- are you taking pictures of us?” he asked uncomfortably, hand still in yours. he looked over to you, to find that same annoyed look on your face from earlier in the day. he laughed lightly at your reaction, earning himself a dirty look from you before you returned to scolding your friends.
“why,” you began, hopping into the back seat and forcing emily to move over to make room for spencer. “are the three of you-- wait, no, the four of you, so obsessed with us recently? because, i’m a profiler, too, you know. i’m not dumb-- i know you three have been in cahoots with garcia over something. so why don’t you just confess now?”
“baby angel, that is confidential information,” derek taunted from the driver’s seat, finally pulling out of the parking lot and beginning the ride to the hotel. spencer’s hand had left yours and found a new home on your thigh, but you were too busy getting your friends to confess their sins to rest yours on top of his like you usually did. jj chuckled from the passenger seat, shaking her head and avoiding your intense gaze from the backseat.
“jennifer, do you have something you’d like to share with the class?”
“no, no, no,” jj whined, turning to face you. “please don’t pull the jennifer card, you know i hate that!”
“and you know y/n hates secrets, jennifer,” spencer teased, smirk still adorning his face. at his support, you gave him a quick smile, your hand finally moving over his on your leg.
“fine, i’ll confess, since the other federal agents in this car are too chicken,” emily redirected, earning a few sounds of disagreement from the front seat. “we may or may not have been profiling you kids all day. but, in all honesty, it’s garcia’s fault-- she started it!”
“why are you profiling us?” spencer inquired with a look of genuine curiosity on his face.
“yeah, why are you profiling us? and why’s it penelope’s fault?” finally having some sort of closure on the topic and knowing more of an explanation was to come, you relaxed a bit, leaning into spencer and allowing him to toss and arm around your shoulder.
the group gasped when they watched you casually nuzzle into your boyfriend’s side, calling for the return of spencer’s surprised expression. this time, though, you laughed at the uproar, knowing they were about to make it all make sense for you. “basically,” morgan began through chuckles. “penelope thought hotch made a ‘no pda’ rule when you guys first started dating, and she wasn’t happy about it. but then hotch told me the rule didn’t exist--”
“because it doesn’t,” spencer interrupted.
“i know, pretty boy. so then we were trying to figure out why you don’t do the whole pda thing, and me, being the genius i am, figured you two must have some little things you do in place of pda that we don’t notice. and, like usual, i was right.”
at that, jj was scoffing. “alright, hotshot, take it easy. the team figured it out together.”
“we don’t not do pda,” spencer corrected. “we just don’t do the same things everybody else does, i guess.”
“yeah,” you chimed in as a grin spread across your face. “we’re special, and you guys are just jealous.”
“i, for one, have nothing to be jealous of. y/n has her love for reid, reid has his love for y/n, and i have my love for sergio. what more could i ask for?”
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the rest of the drive to the hotel was about as peaceful as it could’ve been, but you and spencer were both relieved to be alone by the time you got to your room. the minute you heard the door shut behind him, you were essentially pouncing on spencer. he was surprised at first, but after humming a laugh into the kiss, his hands found the side of your face and he was melting into you. your arms wrapped around his waist as your lips melded with his, all the love you’d felt for him resurfacing at once. after what was probably too long for either of your lungs to handle, you pulled back from him, dropping your head onto his chest and letting your eyes close. his chin rested on your head for a few moments, and when he lifted it again, you looked up at him with a small, endearing smile. “hi there,” he said quietly, returning your loving gaze.
“hi,” you whispered, leaning up and pecking his lips a couple more times. “sorry, i just thought i should get that out of my system.”
“did you? get it out of your system?” you raised your eyebrows, almost laughing at his words. he thought for a moment, then shook his head and leaned back into you. “i didn’t. c’mere, please.”
for the next few minutes, you and spencer stood in the doorway of the hotel room, bags tossed haphazardly on the floor by your feet as he kissed you. you exchanged a few playful words between breaths, both of you giggling lightly into the other before reconnecting your lips. inevitably, you broke apart and began getting ready for bed, but only after spencer felt like he’d gotten enough of your lips to make up for the day he’d spent admiring you from afar.
the team seemed to think that you and spencer were against pda, but they had no idea what it was like to really be with spencer. not dr. reid, or spencer reid from the fbi, but just spencer. the love he had for you could only be matched by the love you had for him, and both of your ability to keep your lips to yourselves during a work day seemed to completely throw your friends off. they knew how in love the two of you were, but they didn’t know what it was like for it to be just y/n and spence. they didn’t know that whenever one of you left the room to shower, it wasn’t without a quick ‘i love you’ and a kiss. they didn’t know that when you two were alone in a room, it was constant cuddling and hugging and holding and touching. understandably, they didn’t know that, as torturous as it was to keep your hands off each other during a case or when you were under the scope of the bureau, the evenings and nights you got to spend to yourselves, away from all eyes, made it worth it.
the nights after a case had finished and you’d yet to be assigned another were always the best. you got to fall asleep in spencer’s arms, not worrying about the next killer you had to stop, but instead focused on the serenity that spencer brought you. on every one of those nights, spencer would jump into bed like a child, getting himself comfortable before looking to you with all the love in the world and open arms. he’d mutter a little, “are you comfy?” every time, and once he got confirmation that you were, he’d follow with an “i love you.” that was exactly the routine of that specific night, and you didn’t hesitate to say it back.
“i love you, spence.” those would be your last words of the night before you knocked out, spencer following close behind.
unfortunately, that sleep would be interrupted.
one thing you and spencer did take note of through kisses and showers and cuddles was the door directly in front of your bed. you were in a connecting room. it was something you’d both noticed but neither addressed, not thinking for a moment that it would be the source of a disruption during the night. so, when spencer woke up at 4:13am to the sound of the door handle shimmying, he was stunned and confused to say the least. immediately thinking the worst, he reached a hand out to the nightstand on his left, opening the drawer and placing a hand over the gun he’d dropped into it before falling asleep. after a few moments and some mutters from the other side of the door, it finally squeaked its way open, only to reveal--
“are you three serious?”
it was the rumble of spencer’s chest as he spoke that woke you. you felt the vibrations of his voice under your cheek, which was pressed against his body as his right arm wrapped around you and landed on the small of your back. you’d been dreaming, so when you woke up to spencer talking, you weren’t sure whether it was real or not for a few seconds. then, spencer was retracting his hand from the drawer and sliding it shut again, and you knew whatever was going on around you was really going on. you forced one eye open, looking up at your boyfriend to see an unimpressed look on his face. “what? what is it?” your voice was small, faltering as you began to stir in his arms.
“aw, they do cuddle!” immediately, you recognized the voice at the door as emily’s. you lifted your head to look to the door, groaning loudly when your eyes confirmed your brain’s suspicions. emily, morgan, and jj. “that’s so adorable! i need a picture! for garcia!”
“pretty boyyy,” derek was chiming in then, his smirk somehow audible through his voice. “you do like pda! private display of affection!”
“oh my god,” you groaned again, dropping your face back to spencer’s chest and trying to focus on the sound of his (slightly rapid) heartbeat instead of your friends’ voices. “are you fucking drunk right now?”
“we’re drunk,” emily confirmed, hiccuping and letting a giggle slip past her lips. “and you’re in love.”
“hey, that’s a beyonce song, prentiss. we be all night! loooove!” derek’s falsetto was bouncing around the room, drawing yet another groan from you. you moved your right hand from spencer’s chest to cover your exposed ear, squeezing your eyes shut and praying for the singing to end. 
“okay, okay,” your muffled hearing caught jj calling. “let’s let the lovebirds sleep now, okay?”
“yeah, let’s let the lovebirds sleep. get out, and lock the door behind you.” you knew you loved sleepy, grouchy spencer for a reason, and that was it. he was just as irritable as you in that state.
after a few camera shudders which you safely assumed were due to emily finally snapping her pictures of you cuddled up with your boyfriend to send to garcia, along with a few more mutters of disagreement from the two drunken agents, you heard the door click shut again. “i hate them. so much.”
spencer sighed from beneath you, his arm returning to your back as your eyes fluttered shut again. as he readjusted, shifting his head a few times to get back to the comfort he’d had before, he hummed in response to you. “i agree.”
“goodnight again,” you muttered. “i love you.”
“goodnight. i love you.”
it was going to be a fun jet ride in the morning.
5K notes · View notes
imagining-in-the-margins · 11 months ago
Blush (Reid Request)
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Request: Post prison Reid goes to his shy girlfriend’s house and finds a sex toy in her sock drawer. Spencer confronts her bc she would never usually own something like that. And it gets smutty. I just thought it would have been funny. A/N: You said funny, but other horny folks and I said rough sex. So, I hope you still enjoy it! Also, soft moment at the end because I am a sucker for aftercare. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader 
 Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+ ONLY) Content Warning: penetrative sex, oral sex (female receiving), sex toy (vibrator, female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, Dom/Sub dynamic, jealousy, unprotected sex/creampie, multiple orgasms, crying during sex, soft degradation, brief implied Dom Drop and aftercare scene included Word Count: 6.1k
The worst part about my job wasn’t the late nights — you get used to those pretty quickly. The problem was that I never got any warning for when they were about to happen, which meant that all of my plans were tentative at best. Half the time I didn’t even bother writing them down, knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to make it, anyway.  
Luckily for me, my boyfriend was a very stubborn and persistent person, so he would usually wait up for me when we did have plans. Unfortunately for both of us, though, things had been… different… lately. It had only been a few weeks since he got out of prison, and the shift back to normal had been hard, to say the least. So, I figured the least I could do for the time being was to make a note of when I was supposed to see him so that he wouldn’t be left waiting for me.
This is all to say that when I came home from work that night, there was no reason for me to believe there would be someone else in my apartment. And yet, as I turned the corner into my room, I was confronted with the sight of a person sitting in the dark on my bed.
“Spencer!” I squeaked, practically jumping in the air and clutching my chest.
“Hey there, bunny,” Spencer cooed, tilting his head as his eyes scanned over my uniform. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought he was looking for something on them; a sign to prove that I hadn’t actually been at work.
“Someone’s been out late.”
“You scared me,” I responded. I’d chosen to ignore the accusatory tone in favor of beginning to remove the outer layers of my uniform. I felt Spencer’s eyes watching me hungrily, following my hands as I stripped down.
“Why is that?” he asked, a darkness bleeding through the tone.
I shrugged, unsure what other reaction I should have had to a man in my bed at night, especially considering it’d been months since that was a normal occurrence.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, that’s all,” I explained, tossing my clothes into the hamper beside me and grabbing one of his shirts that I’d grown attached to while he was away. That decision, however, only seemed to further irritate him.
“You weren’t expecting your boyfriend to come see you?”
“No, not really. You didn’t call me, and you know how jumpy I get,” I answered, slipping straight from my shirt into his. It was strange, the hostility that I felt permeating the tiny room, and I had a feeling I was missing something I was supposed to know.
“Yes, I do,” Spencer said quietly, running a hand over his face in what appeared to be contemplation.
The silence between us didn’t last longer than the time it took for my pants and bra to hit the floor, leaving me clad only in his shirt and a pair of flimsy cotton underwear.
“Come here, bunny,” he instructed before beckoning to me with one finger. That was when I realized that one of his hands had been concealed the whole time, hidden behind his back. I tried not to read into it; he was probably just holding himself up. But still, there was something almost animalistic in his tone that made me pause as he said, “Come sit on my lap.”
I complied, unable to resist the temptation even if I'd wanted to.
“You’ve gotten bossier since you got out, you know,” I giggled, approaching him with a pep in my step that was meant to hide any insecurity I had over how else prison might have changed the man I love.
“Does it bother you?”
His voice softened almost immediately upon touching me, his hand taking mine as soon as he could reach it. When I tried to straddle him, he just shook his head, guiding me to turn so that my back was to his chest.
“No…” I somewhat lied as I took my seat.
‘Bother’ was the wrong word, but I didn’t have a better one. It was different, strange, and… Thrilling, the man who had emerged from the other side of the prison walls.  
“You like it, don’t you?” he read my mind, speaking my thoughts into my ear, “Knowing that I can’t resist touching you?”
And true to his word, his hand released mine and started dragging down my waist and over my inner thigh. His fingertips pressed so harshly against the sensitive skin that I felt them long after they’d left.
“Spencer…” I sighed, letting my head fall back against his shoulder.
It had been so long since the two of us had been like this together. Of course, we’d slept together practically minutes after he’d been released, but this felt different. There were no distractions or plans or things to do. It was just the two of us with roaming hands and too much time.
“I was worried about you when I was in there,” Spencer spoke again, this time through clenched teeth. The words didn’t surprise me; he’d told me as much every single time I stepped foot in the prison. There had been a number of times when he even specified what it was that he was worried about - although he’d never prepared me for what came next.
Forcing his face into the crook of my neck, he started to lay heavy kisses against my neck, mumbling an angry insult against the skin, “I know how needy you are. How much you crave the attention of men.”
“That’s not true!” I tried to defend myself, my words interrupted by a wanton moan as he pressed his teeth into my shoulder.
“Be quiet,” he growled, “When you came to see me, you seemed so… put together.”
I tried my hardest to follow his instructions, biting down hard enough on my tongue that I should’ve tasted blood - because his hand was going everywhere but where I wanted it, his nails now digging into me and leaving marks any way that they could. Still, I feared that the whimpers they elicited would be enough for him to justify a punishment.
Although, that didn’t sound bad, either. Spencer and I had experimented a little bit with rough play before he was so rudely taken from me. We'd never delved into any extremes, though, since my sweet boyfriend had always insisted that it would be wrong to corrupt me… no matter how badly I wanted him to.
So I had resigned myself to the idea that I would have to convince him another day, sometime in the future when he couldn’t ignore the impulses anymore. And before prison, I'd honestly thought that the day might never come. That was, until that night, when Spencer’s mouth and hand roamed over my body with a possessiveness that should have frightened me.
Before I could even ask what had gotten into him, he gave me my answer.
“I thought that you might have found someone else to satisfy those cravings.”
The world came to a record-scratch stop, the breath vacating my lungs so quickly I nearly choked on their absence.
“I would never do that!”
Spencer, sensing my sudden urge to leave his lap, wrapped his arm around me and held my hips down flush against his.
“I know that now,” he laughed through the struggle, “Because while I was waiting for you, I found something very interesting.”
I paused again, my mind racing with all the things he could have found. It was a short list of things that would actually make me feel some sort of shame, but the possibilities for things that could be misconstrued were endless.
“Wait—“ I rasped, grabbing onto his arm with both of mine as he finally revealed a small, familiar object clutched in his hand.
“It turns out I didn’t need to be worried at all.”
Holding down the button on the small bullet vibrator, Spencer quickly lowered it between my legs before I got a single word in edgewise. Instead, the only noises leaving my mouth were a surprised yelp, followed by deep, heaving breaths.
“Because my sweet, innocent little bunny found a way to take care of herself,” he mocked, no doubt noticing that within seconds, I’d turned to pliable putty in his hands.
“Spencer, stop,” I panted in the least convincing manner.
“No. Tell me, is this what you did every night while I was gone?” he demanded, rolling the toy in soft circles over my clit to avoid overstimulating me immediately.
I hated the fact that he knew to do that, and as a result I couldn’t answer him. I just sat there, a mess in his arms as he continued to angrily grind insults through his clenched teeth.
“Is this how you replaced me?”
I managed to get out one firm word with a shake of my head, “No!”
“Did you even miss me?”
The vulnerability in the waver of his voice broke me. Realistically, logically, I knew that Spencer couldn’t honestly be jealous of something as simple as a sex toy. He knew how much I loved him; how much I needed him. But I could also tell that he’d been away for too long, and his insecurity that had existed when I first met him had returned. But as sad as it was, I knew a convenient way to show him why he had nothing to worry about.
“Yes! Yes, I missed you so much,” I cried, trying not to focus on the sensations that were flooding my mind with desire. I couldn’t do anything until he told me to. I needed his permission.
“What did you think about when you used this, hm?”
“You. I thought of you,” I promised, finally allowing my legs to shake to show him how close I was to coming undone.
He didn’t look pleased. His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced my head to the side so that he could inspect my face. I let him, confident that the only thing he would find was my submission.
“Spencer, please,” I said through strained vocal cords, my eyes barely able to stay on his as he held the toy against me without any reprieve. He didn’t say anything, yet, just watching me struggle to stay silent and compliant while his pupils grew wide at the sight.
And just when I thought that I wouldn’t be able to hold on any longer, he said those magical words.
“Go ahead. Come.”
His grip on my hair tightening, he continued to taunt me, his mouth just a few inches from mine.
“You know you want to. Come on this little toy and pretend it’s what you really want.”
My body immediately responded to his command. Letting my head fall back into his hand, the rest of my body went rigid, the tremors in my legs intensifying as the orgasm dragged on.
I knew Spencer was watching me, but the shameless pleasure I was experiencing was too overwhelming. I should have pretended to be at least a little disinterested in it, at least for now. I wanted him to be reassured that I would always prefer him to a motor, no matter how much it made me feel.
It wouldn’t be the last orgasm of the night, or at least I hoped not, so I didn’t try to linger in that euphoria any longer than necessary. The problem was that I actually hadn’t used the toy in a few weeks, and I’d just worked a ridiculously long shift and was exhausted. So as soon as I came back to earth, I went completely limp in his arms.
Spencer laughed.
“Are you tired now, bunny?” he said through a little pout. The gentle roar of the vibrator stopped, and both of his hands were on me again. He ran his fingers over my jaw to force me to look at him.
“You got your fill and now you think we’re done?”
“No. I want you,” I slurred, still catching my breath and gathering my strength to be more convincing. It wasn’t that hard, considering his reaction to my words. He grabbed my jaw, his palm covering my nose and mouth while he pulled me closer.
“You want me?”
“I need you!” I yelled, trying to make the muffled words coherent.
Despite the darkness, he felt so playful. The thin ring of his dark honey colored irises visible from the hallway light sneaking past the door. He looked so beautiful, and I got the sudden urge to wrap him up in my arms and remind him just how loved he really was.
But what he had planned would probably be good, too.
“I know you need me. I’m worried that you might have forgotten,” he explained, dropping his hand down so he could toy with my bottom lip, dragging it down to see if I would dare act without his order.
There was no winning, though, because in not breaking the expectations he placed on me, I failed to show him enough of my desire.
“Have you forgotten how I make you feel?”
That time there was no right answer because I would win either way. He would be proud if I told him the truth, that I could never forget the way he made me feel because he was written on my skin and imprinted in my heart.
But if I told him I’d forgotten, he’d be forced to teach me again— to treat tonight like the first night we spent hours tangled in sheets, trying to memorize the tiniest nuance of each other’s body.
By the look in his eyes, he was remembering that night, too. Satisfied with the plumpness of my lips, he lowered his face so that our lips were barely touching before he whispered, “Let me remind you.”
Spencer didn’t actually kiss my lips; he just let the words linger against me before diverting his mouth in a hot trail of sloppy kisses down my jaw. It quickly descended, and the second he had a chance, he latched onto the sensitive skin of my neck and began to suckle harsh bruises over my pulse.
I cried out at the sensation and the statement such an action made. He didn’t even bother asking me if he could mark me, because to him, I already belonged to him. But as soon as he finished with one mark, he would move to a new spot and start the process all over again.
When he'd exhausted the skin on my neck, he began to move down over my collarbones, pausing to sink his teeth into me just enough to leave a mark behind.
“Every night I dreamt about kissing you. About marking every inch of your skin so no one is mistaken,” he growled against my skin, his hands digging into my hips before lifting me from his lap and tossing me onto my back on the bed.
His hands were rough and clumsy as he grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling me to sit up. I understood the order before he said it, removing the shirt to free more of his canvas. And no sooner had the shirt hit the bed than his hands found my wrists, forcing me down and pinning me against the bed.
The silk tie he wore hung between us, reminding me that while I lay there covered in only my sweat and arousal-soaked underwear, he was still fully clothed, ready to make a mess of me once more. I looked to him with a smile, but I was met with rage. An unbridled hatred for all the men who got to see me while he was gone.
Dragging his nails harshly down my chest, he marked the skin of my breasts with his hand first before he grabbed one, kneading the flesh with a force that made my hips buck against him.
“I want an excuse to destroy any man who so much as looks at you wrong. Anyone who looks at you like you don’t belong to me.”
I couldn’t handle the way he looked at me as he said it, the brown of his eyes no longer visible to me as the darkness inside of him covered everything. I didn’t need to see; I trusted he would lead me through it.
“There wasn’t anyone,” I whined, knowing he wouldn’t believe me but needing him to hear it nonetheless.
He didn’t appreciate the answer, lowering himself to begin suckling his marks over my chest.
“Bullshit. You’re just too sweet and naive to notice the way they look at you. But I see it,” he explained, almost sounding sad under the jealousy and insecurity, “And now when they look at you, they’ll see me.”
A choked sob left my lips at the feeling of his hands and mouth laying claim to whatever they could. The pressure and warmth provided a distraction from everything else that could possibly be bothering me. Nothing in the world mattered except the man on top of me.
There was a tenderness in the way his tongue circled over my breasts, manipulating the pebbled peak in his mouth. The attention and care paid to each side made time slow down. It was the calm in the eye of the storm; a reminder that he was still capable of praise and love, even at his most unhinged.
He stopped when he was out of breath, pulling back to look at the pattern of petechiae he’d left scattered in his wake. I stayed silent, hoping to see the adoration on his face, but I could tell that something was still missing for him.
Spencer left me there, standing up and beginning to remove his tie and unbutton his shirt. For a while I didn’t move at all, scared that it would earn his wrath or be seen as an attempt to hide from his eyes, even when they weren’t watching.
But eventually I started to sit up, my fingers drifting over the new marks he’d left.
“Tell me what you want,” he ordered, not looking at me past the small sliver visible in his peripherals.
“I-I want…”  I tried to say it, but my throat felt dry as he stripped in front of me, revealing the rest of the barely faded bruises and wounds he’d sustained during his prison stint.
I felt guilty, having already grown used to the marks on his face that seeing them elsewhere stole words from my mouth.
Spencer saw the horror and guilt on my face, and it snapped the thin thread of patience and control he was trying to hold onto.
“I’m waiting.”
“I want you to fuck me. Please.”
“No. You don’t deserve it yet.”
I quickly realized that whatever I said wouldn’t have mattered; he had already chosen the path we would take. When he approached me that time, as naked as I was, I felt even more cornered. Like he was coming to devour me.
“Not only did you take what’s mine, you hid it from me. So poorly, too,” he chastised, stopping his approach just above my legs, his lips ghosting over my hip bones.
“While I was locked up and dreaming of you, you replaced me with a fucking toy.”
I wanted to protest his words, but he never gave me a chance. My voice was cut off by a sudden, throaty cry as his tongue ran along my sex. There was no chance for me to recover my senses before he began to sloppily explore whatever he could, switching between short lapping motions and thrusts inside me.
He barely stopped to breathe, but when he did, he growled against my inner thigh, “Is this what you thought about, bunny?”
Nodding like he would be able to see it thrown back against the pillows, my heels dug into his shoulders, trying to bring him closer again. He took pity on me, but only for a moment before I heard a small chuckle.
“Or maybe you thought about this?”
I didn’t have to wonder for long, with Spencer acting on his words before they were even finished. With one rough motion, he buried two fingers into my heat soaked with his spit and my own arousal. It still hurt enough for my legs to shake, but Spencer forced my hips down with his arm wrapped around my leg.
Everything in the room disappeared. The only sounds I could hear were my own muffled cries mixed with the lewd sounds of Spencer’s mouth as he kissed my poor overstimulated body. Between my moans, I could also hear his, low and insistent.
His fingers filled me so completely I wondered how I would be able to fuck him at this rate. It seemed impossible to take his cock when I could barely handle what he’d done so far.
“Spencer, it’s too much! I-I can’t—“
When I say that I cried, I mean it. Tears that had been pricking at the sides of my eyes quickly pooled and fell, and Spencer made no mention of it. I knew he could hear it in my voice, but he continued his ministrations without an ounce of guilt. The tears weren’t from fear or pain. They were born of my body’s inability to control how badly it wanted him.
“Yes, you can,” he corrected my earlier protest, issuing one final warning before continuing, “You can, and you will.”
I couldn’t tell which was less forgiving: the slight curve of his fingers with each thrust or the speed with which he deftly swirled his tongue and sucked on my clit until I couldn’t hold back my voice any longer.
That time as I came, my back lifted from the bed despite his best efforts to hold me down. He followed me, still, refusing to change his pace even as my nails dug into his scalp and my legs closed around his ears without reservation.
Spencer was a man on a mission to destroy me, and he let nothing stand in his way. Even when I was fully broken, laying with wet cheeks and trembling legs, he didn’t even wait to wipe his mouth before he demanded, “Tell me what you want.”
“Please... sir,” I weakly whispered.
He recognized from the pause that I wasn’t planning on finishing my plea, and he ever so politely pressed on, “Please what?”
“F-Fuck me,” I managed to say.
It was clearly too pathetic for his tastes, because he quickly rejected the request with a dark and angry, “No.”
I didn’t even see him grab the toy, but I certainly heard it roar back to life. Tears streamed down my face before it even touched me. Despite them, a smile was spread over my face because I could feel it. I felt the tension in his body as it seemed to transfer to me and build in my loins.  
Then it was too much, aching in the best and worst way all at once. Spencer approached me, his eyes staring into mine through the tears that blocked my vision.
“Please, don’t make me,” I slurred, trying to appeal to his merciful side hidden behind that slightly scary but mostly fascinating exterior.  
“I’m not making you do anything. You had no problems finishing on it before. I’m just trying to give you what you want.”
As he spoke, Spencer stroked the side of my face, clearing any stray hairs and moving my face so he could watch the tears roll down.
“I’m just trying to spoil you, bunny. Say thank you.”
The word didn’t get far, with his hand pressing harder between my legs until my mouth twisted into the pleasure he sought to exact. My earlier smile had transferred to him, and he watched me with unmatched enthusiasm. Like the scientist he was, he was testing how far I would go before I actually begged for mercy.
He wanted to break me, just to see if he could.
And break I did, losing track of just how many orgasms I’d had and hoping to god there wouldn’t be many more to follow. This one was so quick and so harsh, I barely had time to remind myself to breathe before it was over.
“Good girl. There you go. Look at you. You said you couldn’t do it but you’re doing so well.”
Spencer’s voice was the only thing tethering me to the world, the vibrations moving slowly down my leg to prevent the whiplash of sensations. I tried to look down at his hands, my eyes barely staying open, but Spencer guided my face back to his. With soft, slow breaths, he implicitly demanded that I follow his lead and recalibrate before we continued.
My body needed it more than I’d thought, greedily accepting the air and the calmness of the moment. I wanted so badly to wrap myself up in him, to bury my face in his neck and succumb to sleep in the arms of the man I loved. But I couldn’t. It was crystal clear in his eyes that Spencer wasn’t finished yet.
“Look at me and tell me what you want.”
Swallowing thickly and speaking lowly, I confidently and clearly replied this time. If he wanted to break me down to nothing, that nothing would still be poised. That nothing would still tell him without a doubt in her mind what she needed from him.
“Fuck me, sir.”
“Do you think you’ve earned it?” he said it more as a chastisement than a genuine question, and I knew the answer he was looking for.
I shook my head no, too scared to say the word.
“But you’re still asking me to fuck you?” Spencer asked, setting the vibrator aside and letting his hand gently massage my shaking legs.
“Yes, sir. I’m begging, sir.”
Begging was not an overstatement or hyperbole. My entire body was shifting towards him with every motion of his fingers. Like the world’s best puppeteer, he commanded my body to move at his will although it was deathly tired.
“Fine. Only because you asked nicely,” he teased, pursing his lips to mock my pout, “and you look so fucking precious.”
As he climbed on top of me, he took his time pressing gentle kisses over all the teeth marks and bruises he could find. His breath tickled my skin, and it almost felt cool against the heated surface. I was still so overwhelmed that even that minuscule sensation coaxed a low moan from my throat.
“So needy...” he laughed at the sound, “I can’t believe you thought a little toy would ever be enough for you.”
“I need you, Spencer. I’ll always need you,” I speedily replied, unable to keep my hands from lacing through his hair, forcing him to look at me the same as he’d made me earlier, “I’ll always want you.”
It was a slight distinction, a nuance he might have not even considered in the moment. But once I said it— once he heard it— his features softened.
“That’s right, bunny. You’re such a precious thing. I just need to make sure you’re taken care of appropriately,” he sarcastically cooed.
I didn’t even mind. All I could think of in that moment was the feel of his erection pressed against my thigh. He spread my legs, letting them fall limp to the side as he positioned himself at my heat. But as soon as he entered me, roughly and all at once, my muscles jerked around him.
He kissed the side of my face while he chuckled, contrasting his brutal entrance with a tantalizingly slow pace.
“This is what you were waiting for. Wasn’t it? This is what you thought about?”
“Yes,” I sighed.
The exhaustion took so many things from me, but it didn’t take the overwhelming love I felt for Spencer Reid. Feeling him, sharing his breath and surrendering my body for his use and pleasure was all that I wanted.
He must have heard that in my panting and mewls, because he returned his own moan as he struggled to keep his pace light.
“God, I missed this,” he said through clenched teeth.
Although so dreadfully tired and sore, I forced my hand to move. I forced myself to drag my hand down his back, my nails leaving angry welts behind. They were a message to him; confirmation that he was okay to continue.
A promise that he could let go. A promise that I could take it.
Spencer heard it.
“You’re such a good girl. So happy making me feel good.”
His praise was genuine and paired with ruthless thrusts. Of all the bruises that would be left in his wake, I hoped that the pattern of his fingers on my hips would last the longest.
I gasped when he suddenly shoved his arm under my back, canting my hips forward to better serve his needs.
“That’s what gets you off, isn’t it? Knowing what you do to me?” he growled into my neck, unable or unwilling to look me in the eyes as he wrecked what was left of me. “Or is it what I make you want? How I make you feel?”
I honestly didn’t have an answer. Both of them were true, but both also missed the point. It wasn’t just knowing that I drove him mad enough to take me despite the tears, and it wasn’t that he made me like that— it was knowing that beneath it all was the man I loved, giving me all of himself and knowing I would still love him after.
Then again, there was the carnal side. I would be lying if I pretended like his ravishing me to his heart’s content didn’t spark something in me. Even then, as he fucked me hard enough to shake the entire bed frame, I wanted more. I wanted him to leave evidence of him on every inch of my being. I wanted to be utterly wrecked and owned and loved by that man.
He knew it, too. He loved it, too.
“You weren’t like this when I met you, you used to be so fucking pure,” Spencer sneered, bringing his hand up to squeeze my chin and force my lips in another pout, “Now look at you. Look at you.”
The only way I could follow his instructions was in the reflection of his eyes, which were too absorbed by the darkness to be visible. But I didn’t need a mirror.
I could feel the way he controlled me. I could feel him taking over. I let him.
“Please, Spencer.”
It was my final plea, a cry for him to take mercy on my weary body and let us both find peace together.
With a few particularly powerful thrusts, Spencer almost lost himself in the pleasure. I could see the way his face creased as the sweat dripped from his brow. His breathing was heavy and irregular, his grip on my face dropping to my jaw just shy of the column of my throat.
“Crying and begging for me to make you come again. My pretty, greedy little bunny.”
I wanted him to grab me wherever he desired— and it was obvious where that was— but I recognized his apprehension and decided to let it pass unannounced for now. Heaven knew we were both already beat from the sudden escalation in our relatively vanilla lifestyle.
“Please, sir,” I croaked, baring my neck to him to show him his hand there wasn’t required for him to control me. “I need it.”
Spencer didn’t answer with another taunt or promise that time. No, instead he answered by exerting all remaining energy in his motions. He bottomed out inside of me with each thrust, his mouth finally finding mine again through the heavy breaths and moans.
He kissed me even harder than he fucked me, and I felt the crescendo growing again, slower but more powerful this time. Because it wasn’t just the physical aspects of the sex, but also the way our tongues mingled together and shared the space between us.
In that moment, we were hardly two separate people anymore. Spencer felt like an extension of myself, a piece of me that couldn’t be removed without permanent damage to my heart. My hands held his face, forcing him to stay with me, his lips on mine as my final climax of the night took over me in creeping waves. When my mouth couldn’t stay closed for his kisses any longer, he laid them on my cheeks instead.
“Good girl,” he said so sweetly before his own release followed.
Buried as deeply as he could within me, Spencer let out a noise also similar to my cries from before. His relief was visible in each of his muscles, his body slowly giving into the bliss as his warmth filled me.
I could hardly move, but I once again found the strength to stroke his back, bringing him back down to earth and back to me. His tired body collapsed onto mine with no grace at all, and I would have laughed if he weren’t crushing me.
“Shit,” I mumbled with the last breath I had left.
“Language,” Spencer mumbled back, although the word was barely comprehensible with his mouth still smushed against my neck. Thankfully, he showed mercy for only the second time that night and rolled off me before I suffocated under his weight.
With my newfound freedom, I laughed, delirious and happier than words could describe.
“I’m too sleepy to care ‘bout rules,” I whispered, also apparently too tired to talk right.
Spencer didn’t mind though, considering he was smiling back at me with a gentle, loving look that I felt like I hadn’t seen all night. It was a welcome and calming change of pace.
“I know you’re tired. We need to clean you up, though.”
He nodded when I groaned in response, having fully expected my resistance to moving. But then he said something peculiar, something that sank into my skin and raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
“You’re all dirty now that you let me touch you,” he said.
I sat with the words, replaying them in my head as he practically carried me to the bathroom. I mulled them over to the sound of the bath running and thought of how to respond for as long as the water stayed warm.
Because while I knew what I wanted to say so badly, I wasn’t good with words like him— especially not in my current state.
But I couldn’t let that be the end of the night. I couldn’t let him think those words without correction.
“Hey Spencer?” I said, breaking the silence while his hands carefully caressed my arms, gently washing the bruised skin.
He stopped at the sound of my voice, clearly being ripped from his own mind.
“Yes?” he asked, cautiously and quietly, almost unheard over the splashing water.
“Thank you for taking care of me. You’re a kind, gentle, wonderful man, and I love you very much.”
Silence followed, his hands falling down to my lap as he undoubtedly repeated the words to himself, hoping to find some flaw or lie in the logic. But he wouldn’t find them because they didn’t exist. In that moment particularly, there was nothing at all I could criticize. My heart was too full of love to feel anything else.
“I just thought you might need to hear that,” I explained, slipping my hands under his palms and coaxing his fingers to intertwine with mine.
With the tiniest chuckle, the kind that came out more an exhale than anything that could be properly called a laugh, Spencer followed suit.
“Thank you, bunny,” he whispered with a crack in his voice, pulling me closer and wrapping our arms around my chest. Letting out a small sigh of relief, he rested his face on my shoulder with a small kiss.
(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)
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railmereid · 9 months ago
give love a try // s.r
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Summary: Diana Reid takes it upon herself to play matchmaker and decides to set her son up with her aide
Pairing: Spencer Reid & Y/N
Requested: no
Warning: none, pure fluff, minor awkwardness, but that’s about it
Word Count: 11,060
A/N: So this is my apology for “peace” lol, I usually never write fluff because I feel like I’m bad at it and because I’ve never read any super fluffy pieces about having a crush and the absolute roller coaster of emotions involved with catching feelings for someone so, I decided to write it myself. I also started this with dialogue right off the bat, which is also something I never do. Let me know what you guys think! Also, not sure where the gif is from because my friend sent it to me, but if anyone knows let me know so I can credit the creator!
“Mom, it’s a video call-“ He sighed softly as he starred at the phone in his palm. “All I can see is your ear.“ He tried again, but she didn’t remove the phone from her ear. “Pull the phone away from your ear-“
“Why would I want to pull the phone away from my ear?” Diana scoffed at her son. “I wouldn’t be able to hear you that wa-“ She argued, before giving in and pulling the phone away from her ear long enough for Spencer to catch a glimpse of her face. “Oh!”
Her smile grew as soon as she saw her son’s blurry face on the screen she was holding.
“Hi, mom.” Spencer smiled softly as Diana angled her phone, trying her hardest to get a clear image of her son.
“Spencer, I can barely see you-“ She frowned as she pulled the phone away from her face, her son’s pixilated face only continuing to distort as she held it further away.
Even with her glasses on, he was extremely blurry.
“Its just a poor connection-“ He tried to explain to her but her patience was wearing thin.
He had brought her a new phone last Christmas, one that allowed her to video chat with him. He knew she missed him and there was always a part of him that felt guilty for how  much time he allowed to pass between his visits.
She always made comments about how he looked different or how much time had passed since the last time she’d seen him. So, he decided to buy her a phone, that way, she could see him whenever she wanted.
Since then, they’d tried to FaceTime a couple of times but none of them were ever too successful.
They had a handful of failed attempts under their belts, but between the two of them, they had enough determination to try again, no matter how frustrating it was for either of them.
Spencer wasn’t all that thrilled about using his phone and really only used it when he had to, but for his mom, he’d give anything a try. Even if that meant trying to teach her how to use a device he wasn’t even sure he was using right half the time from thousands of miles away.
“How do I fix it?” She asked, tapping the screen and accidentally switching the lens to the back camera in the process.
He was now starring at the cherry oak table top of the table Diana was sitting at.
“Check your WiFi.” He suggested gently and he didn’t even have to see her face to know that her eyebrows had knit together in confusion.
“My WiFi?” Within seconds she’d managed to flip the camera back to her face and sure enough, her brows were furrowed.
He could tell she was growing frustrated. In all honesty, he was too. It wasn’t her fault and he wasn’t blaming her, he just wished that they could figure out how to video chat without any problems.
If it wasn’t one thing, it always seemed to be another. Poor connection. No service. Her finger covering the mic. If only there was someone on her end that could help her figure out how to work the device.
“Why couldn’t we just talk on the phone?” Diana let out with a groan and Spencer couldn’t help but smile.
“You wanted to see me, remember? He reminded her. Even with a poor connection, he could see her roll her eyes at his comment.
“I know, I know-“ She sighed. “This is just so-“ Her brain felt absolutely fried. Her focus was torn between trying to figure out how to work the damn phone her son bought for her and trying to hold a conversation with him for longer than 5 minutes before they decided to use their landlines instead. “Frustrating.” She settled, feeling the same thing he was.
“We’ll figure it out, mom.” He assured her. “Maybe if you-“
He was ready to offer another suggestion, something he’d read a couple of months ago when he first bought the phones on an online tech forum about connection issues, when she gasped.
“Wait! I got it!” She exclaimed as his face came into focus. “I can see you!” The frustration she was feeling moments ago had completely vanished and was replaced by pure excitement and joy. “Can you see me?”
“Yes, I can see you.” He smiled back. Her smile was contagious. It always had been.
“Your hair is so long!” She exclaimed as she raised her hand to her mouth in awe. She was completely blown away by the fact that she could see her son in real time, even though he was thousands of miles away. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” He said, even though he had an awful headache and his back hurt from being tackled by an unsub the week before. She didn’t need to know that though. He knew she’d worry, so he refrained from getting into the details. “How about you?”
“Oh, you know-“ She sighed, pulling her cardigan tighter across her chest. It was absolutely freezing in that damn home and despite her asking them to adjust the temperature, they never listened. She didn’t complain though, because she didn’t want him to worry. Instead, she smiled and settled on, “Same old, same old.”
Despite her attempt to convince him she was fine, he noticed her shivering. He decided against asking if she wasn’t going to bring it up. He knew his mom was a strong woman who didn’t need to be patronized by her son on the other side of the country, so he left it alone.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Diana asked and Spencer swore he almost dropped his phone.
“Mom!” He groaned in protest, but she just chuckled.
“What?” She laughed, noticing the way his cheeks turned pink at her question. “It’s just a question-“ She defended herself. If she really wanted to make him squirm, she would’ve told him she wouldn’t have to ask if he called more often, but she didn’t. When he still didn’t give an answer to her question, she pressed on.  “Are you?”
Spencer would never hang up on his mother, but in that moment, he was giving it some serious thought.
“No.” He admitted softly and her smile only grew. He was definitely confused, considering most mothers would frown when their son informed them that they were still single and there was no hope for grandkids in the near future, but she smiled.
“I met someone I think you’d absolutely adore!”  She beamed excitedly, her voice raising slightly. Spencer was pretty sure she was shouting at this point, but he turned the volume down on his phone and listened anyway. “She’s my aide! Her name’s Y/N and she’s just like you it’s-“ When it came to describing you, Diana couldn’t find the right words. You were like the daughter she never had. “She’s very pretty and I think the two of you would get along very, very well.”
“That’s nice mom-“ He agreed, hoping that if he played into her fantasy and pretended he wasn’t that interested that she’d drop it.
“Do you want me to give her your number?” Diana offered. “I know you’re busy, but she’s a lovely girl and I think-“
“I’ve actually got to go, mom.” He cut her off and watched her smile fall into a small frown.
“Oh!” He could tell she was disappointed. “I didn’t think it was that late there?”
Diana checked her watch with a raised brow, giving him enough time to come up with an explanation.
“I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” He told her, which wasn’t technically the truth, but it wasn’t technically a lie either.
He had to be at the office at seven, which wasn’t too early for him, but for some people, it was.
“Right, well, sleep tight.” She told him, blowing a few kisses into the camera. “I love you.”
“I love you too, mom.” Blowing her a few kisses back, his smile grew as she pretended to catch them.
“Promise you won’t wait so long in between calls next time?” She begged, giving him a stern yet pleading look that he couldn’t resist even if he tried.
“I promise.”
“Good.” She smiled softly. “Good night.”
“Night.” He returned the gesture before hanging up and ending the call.
What had she meant when she said you were just like him?
He had a terrible habit of overthinking things and letting his mind wander. As he starred at his reflection in the blank screen, he found himself doing just that.
Were you a genius?
Maybe you had an eidetic memory?
What if you both majored in the same subjects in school?
Surely, she hadn’t meant that you were afraid of the dark.  Unless, maybe, you were.
Once the seed had been planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he didn’t even know you.
It started one day at work when he told a joke that no one else laughed at. He was proud of that joke. He’d worked really hard on it, and all he got in return were blank stares.
He tried explaining it to his coworkers, but they all begged him to stop.
He wondered if you would’ve laughed.
The second time he found himself thinking about you was when he was away on a case. Hotch always made it a point to bring something back for Jack whenever he had to travel, so they’d stopped at a small convenience store on the outskirts of town before heading to the airstrip.
Jack was really into stickers lately, so Hotch searched high and low for the coolest sticker the shop had to offer.
Spencer went in with him, mainly because he wanted to stretch his legs, but he found himself looking at the keychains while he waited for his boss and wondered what it would be like to bring a souvenir home to you.
Would you like it?
Even if you didn’t, would you lie and say you did?
He picked up the small keychain that caught his eye and decided to buy it. If anyone asked who it was for, he’d lie and say he just liked it, which wasn’t really a lie at all. He did like it. He liked it because it reminded him of you.
With each day that passed he wanted to know more about you.
If he was reading a book, he wondered if you’d like it too or what kind of books you’d like.
As he drank his morning coffee he wondered how you took your coffee, or if you even drank coffee at all.
Before he knew it he was infatuated with you. He was completely and utterly obsessed with the mere idea of you.
He was almost always thinking about you, and he didn’t even know you. He just knew of you, but the idea of you seemed absolutely perfect and it was one he was rather fond of.
Unbeknownst to him, his colleagues noticed his change in behavior. Spencer Reid was never really the spacey type. Even when he was lost in whatever was going on inside of his head, he always remained present in conversation, but lately, he seemed to be in a world of his own.
He was rarely ever in a bad mood, but the past few weeks he seemed extra chipper. The sudden shift in his behavior had everyone placing bets as to why.
Morgan was the first one to ask him about it.
“Alright, pretty boy, what’s on your mind?” He asked one day while the two of them were driving back from a crime scene.
Spencer easily became carsick when he rode with Morgan, who was a pretty erratic driver. He always managed to teeter on the fine line between breaking and obeying safety laws when he was behind the wheel.
If he wasn’t complaining about his driving or informing him what traffic violations he was currently breaking, Spencer usually told him about different state’s driving laws and shared useless facts, like how in Maryland it's a misdemeanor in Rockville to “curse and swear or use obscene language upon or near any street, sidewalk or highway within the hearing of persons passing by.”
But he was silent, clearly in a world of his own.
He was caught red handed.
Since his calls with his mother, he hadn’t told anyone about you because there was nothing to tell! He knew it was silly to create a false sense of reality, one where you were his dream girl, but he couldn’t help himself.
He took his mother’s words to heart when she said the two of you were similar and since that day, he couldn’t stop overthinking what she’d meant by that.
He figured if anyone were to understand what he was going through, it had to be Morgan.
“My mom-“ He admitted softly, looking down at his hands in his lap.
“How’s she doing?” Derek asked, placing his arm behind Spencer’s headrest as he looked to him for an answer. If Spencer weren’t in desperate need of advice, he would’ve told him to put both hands on the wheel.
Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair and let out a soft sigh. “Fine-“ He told his friend. “She’s trying to set me up with her nurse-“
That caught Derek’s attention.
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down-“ He chuckled, swerving off the road sightly as his gaze lingered on Reid a bit too long. “Are we talking a real life candy striper or?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, gently shaking Spencer’s shoulder with his free hand to get a rise out of him.
Spencer was quick to swat at him, sending him a stare that begged him to knock it off. Once both of Derek’s hands found their way back to the steering wheel, he continued.
“I don’t know, I’ve never met her.” With his confession, Derek’s brow furrowed. He was about to ask, but before he could, Spencer explained. “My mom told me she thinks we’d be perfect for each other and-“
Now he understood.
“And now you can’t stop thinking about what that means?” Morgan cut him off with a knowing smirk. “You’re not as hard to read as you think you are, genius.”
“What do I do?” Spencer groaned. “I can’t stop thinking about this girl and I haven’t even met her!”
“I hate to let you down, man-“ Derek let out a small sigh of his own. “But from my experience, nine out of ten times the idea of a woman is better than the woman herself.” He explained, recalling a few pretty faces he thought would be absolutely perfect until he got to know them. “We build this entire idea of someone up and then meet them and are let down when we find that they don’t measure up to the impossibly high expectations we’ve set for them.”
That was definitely not what Spencer was expecting to hear. He wanted a solution to is problem, but Derek pretty much told him one doesn’t exist and that he should just give up before he even tried.
“You’re probably right.” He admitted, feeling his chest tightened as he agreed with his friend.
He always did this.
He always fell too hard, too fast.
He’d grown up fascinated with the idea of love after reading about how magical it was and discovering that there was an actual psychology behind it.
He was always polite around girls. Even when he was younger, he always minded his manners. There was this one girl that lived down the street from him, his first crush.
He remembered playing at the park one day when she was there with her friends. She was wearing a yellow dress and had her hair up in piggy tails. At the time, he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the whole entire world.
Her and her friends wanted to swing, but there weren’t enough for all of them to swing so Spencer, being the gentleman he always was, offered her his. She happily took it without saying a word to him.
As he grew older, it was pretty much the same thing. He was either always laughed at or stuck in the friendzone when it came to girls.
He’d spent his whole life hoping to find someone that checked all of his boxes, someone that loved him for him and would accept the love he had to give in return. He was beginning to lose hope.
That night once he was back in his hotel room, he decided to give his mother a call.
After his conversation with Morgan, he was bummed and knew that if anyone could cheer him up, it would be his mother.
His fingers tapped delicately across the screen as he dialed the person he needed most and she picked up on the second ring, bringing the phone to her ear as she answered.
“Mom, it’s a video call-“
“I know, I’m just messing with you.” Diana wore a wide smile as she pulled the phone away from her ear, excited that her son had called so unexpectedly. They usually set a time to call so she was happily surprised when her phone rang out of the blue. “How are you?” She asked, noticing the subtle frown on his lips. She didn’t wait for him to answer before asking another question. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong-“ He was quick to defend, his nose twitching slightly as he avoided his mother’s questioning stare. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
At any given moment there was a lot on Diana Reid’s mind, but not even an infinite amount of distracting thoughts could distract her from the troubling expressions from her boy.
“I can hear it in your voice.” She urged him gently, not trying to force it out of him but giving the opportunity to reveal what had been troubling him on his own. She was never one to pry. She just wanted to help him in any way she could.
Spencer has a terrible habit of bottling up his feelings. He felt less vulnerable that way. Not to mention, he was more than capable of handling his problems on his own. He didn’t want others to worry about him.
However, the one person he couldn’t keep anything from was his mother. Which was why he found himself taking a deep breath before letting the words fall from his mouth.
“It’s nothing, really I just-“
“Hang on-“ Diana groaned, tapping her screen before shaking her phone. “You’re frozen.” She explained. “Am I frozen?”
“No, I can see you just fine.” He told her as she continued to shake her phone, making him dizzy as he watched his mother’s distorted face come in and out of focus.
“Son of a-“ Diana grumbled under her breath, looking up and somewhere out of Spencer’s line of sight until she smiled. “Y/N, hun, could you come help me?” She asked softly, gently placing a hand on your forearm to get your attention. “I can’t figure this damn FaceTime thing out-“
You were working on an essay next to her the whole time she’d been on the phone. You weren’t focused on her conversation, only the soft piano music coming through your headphones and the sentences you’d been trying to form that defended your thesis.
“Sure thing, Diana.” You smiled, removing your headphones and shutting your laptop screen. “What seems to be the problem?”
As soon as he heard your voice his cheeks heated up.
He couldn’t explain it, but just the sound of your voice made his heart beat faster.
It was so soft, calming even, but it made his pulse quicken and his cheeks flush. There was a warmth that spread through his body that made him feel like he was floating and you’d only said a few words.
The feeling of warmth and floating was immediately replaced by fear as his fight or flight kicked in and he realized that as soon as his mother handed her phone to you, he’d finally be able to see you.
He started to panic.
He’d grown so attached to his fantasy of you that he wasn’t sure he was ready to give it up yet. Morgan’s words echoed around him, clouding his judgement as his fingers moved quickly, making his mind up for him.
He did the only reasonable thing he could think to do and he hung up. He’d tell his mother it was a connection issue and he knew that she wouldn’t question it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of his fantasy. Not yet.
He nervously let out a few shaky breaths as he closed his eyes in frustration and sunk further into the lumpy hotel mattress.
It was a couple of months before Spencer called his mother again.
As soon as your last lecture finished you made your way across town to Bennington Sanitarium for your shift.
It was a beautiful afternoon and even though there was a chill in the early autumn air, you drove with your windows down.
The short drive seemed to take longer than usual, but you didn’t mind. You savored the extra time you got to spend in your car listening  to music and decompressing from your day at school before your shift.
It was truly the only time you got to focus on nothing at all. Your days usually only consisted of work and school, so the time you got to spend in the car was something you looked forward to and cherished.
It was truly the only opportunity you had to clear your mind, and you never took it for granted. Some days, you actually wished there was more traffic.
Which was why when you finally arrived at your destination and turned your keys silencing your ignition, a small sigh left your lips.
You loved your job and the people you worked with more than anything. It’d just been a very long day and you would’ve killed for five more minutes to yourself.
Nevertheless, you entered the large facility with a smile on your face as a few residents waved at you or called out your name with delight as you walked by.
You truly loved this place.
As you approached the front desk you greeted the older nurse behind the counter her eyes shifted from her computer screen for only a brief moment, but when she realized it was you and not an actual patient or their family, she went back to her work and elbowed the younger nurse next to her to get her attention.
The younger nurse sitting next to her, Marley, groaned as the older lady elbowed her carelessly and finally looked up to see you standing there.
“Hey-“ You greeted her with a small wave as she handed you the sign in clipboard and your badge, her eyes shifting back to whatever had her distracted before your arrival.
She was around your age, but you never really got along with her. You always went out of your way to be kind to her, but she never returned the gesture.
“What’s going on?” You asked as you clipped your badge on your waist and handed her back the clipboard.
“Oh, Dr.Reid is here!” Marley explained with a toothy grin. Before you could fully process what she’d said you realized two things. One, you’d never seen her smile before and two, you liked her better when she didn’t smile.
You’d heard all about Spencer Reid.
During your first few weeks at the sanitarium you befriended his mother, who you bonded with quickly.
You were hired as a general aide, someone to help assist the patients with everyday tasks. Most days, you picked up spills, help distribute medication, and just sat down and talked with the residents.
You served as their only real connection to the outside world and those that didn’t have families that could come to visit them often looked forward to the time you got to spend together.
Because of your age, you reminded many of the residents of their grandchild or children. As soon as they saw you they all perked up.
They missed hearing and sharing stories with the ones they loved and settled on listening to and sharing with you instead.
Although you weren’t the only volunteer, you were by far the crowd favorite.
Everyone enjoyed asking you about your schooling and what you were studying. A few of the older woman asked about the boys on campus and shared a few squeals as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
To be quite honest, you weren’t really looking paying attention to the boys all that much. You were really focused on your studies. Too focused, Diana made a habit of reminding you.
If it weren’t for her, you’d probably never take a break.
One day, the older lady who spent most days staring out the window, the one that kept to herself, asked you if you could ask one of the nurses to adjust the temperature, since she was a little cold.
Instead of asking the nurses for permission however, you walked behind the front desk, grabbed the key, and changed the thermostat yourself.
Diana liked that about you.
You didn’t ask anyone for permission, you just did it yourself.
She thought it was a good quality to have.
You reminded her of herself when she was younger.
After that, she requested that you became her personal aide. Although you enjoyed most of the residents and the time you got to spend with them, you were curious about the silent woman who had requested your assistance. Plus, becoming a personal aide meant you received a nice little raise in your weekly paycheck.
You didn’t care about the money though. That was never the reason you took the job. It was always about the experience and what you could learn from the people there that drew you to the sanitarium.
Once the two of you warmed up to each other, the conversation was never dull. You talked about anything and everything.
You shared everything with Diana.
She knew all about your childhood and the town you grew up in, which you learned was only a few suburbs over from where she singlehandedly raised her son.
She shared stories of her son often and the more she continued to share, you found yourself more and more fascinated by him.
Mothers often had a way with words that made their children sound perfect, but you had the feeling that Spencer really was.
Despite the stories she shared with you, you still wanted to know more about him. It was such a funny thought, considering you felt like you’d known him his whole life since his mother was very fond of sharing stories, and photos of him, but somehow that didn’t feel like enough.
You found yourself wondering if his day was going as well as yours had been or what he did in his free time.
During your lectures, your mind often wandered to what it must’ve been like to be a child prodigy attending the same classes and absorbing the same material.
You never thought the day would come when you’d get answers to your questions, but much to your surprise, it had.
As much as you thought about him, you never thought the day would come where you actually met him.
You’d been working at the sanitarium for over a year and he never visited his mother, not even once.
Diana explained that he had a very busy schedule and that it was hard for him to make time to visit, so you never got your hopes up.
But he was here now, under the same roof as you, and you weren’t sure what to do.
Had Diana told him about you?
It was such a silly thought, but surly he wondered why there was a pretty hefty increase to the check he made out to the home each month.
The idea that you were completely infatuated with a man who didn’t even know you existed made your stomach drop.
Everything became all to real and you suddenly felt like you were going to be sick.
“I think I forgot my textbook in my car.” You announced, causing Marley to look up from her paperwork and eye you suspiciously. “I’ll be right-“
She wasn’t listening to you though. Her eyes were fixated on the absolutely breathtaking man behind you approaching the front desk.
With wide eyes, she quickly moved a few papers around and pretended to look busy before letting out in a whisper, “Shit, he’s coming over.”
You turned around to see who she was talking about, but felt your entire body tense as you turned right into someone else’s chest.
“I’m so sorry-“ You were quick to apologize, but so was he.
“It’s my fault.” He assured you as you met his eyes for the first time, feeling your breath catch in your throat.
He was tall, much taller than you expected. His eyes were kind and you could tell by the faint lines around his eyes that he smiled a lot.
He was gorgeous.
Breathtaking even.
Which was why you felt incredibly embarrassed about running into him.
“You’re Diana’s son, aren’t you?” You asked and watched the way he smiled at the mention of his mother’s name. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m-“
“Y/N.” He said your name and you swore it never sounded as beautiful as it had when it rolled past his lips. “I’ve heard a lot about you too.”
There was a moment of silence where the two of you shared polite smiles with one another to mask the fact that you were both freaking out internally.
He was here, finally, and so were you.
You looked nothing like he imagined. You looked nothing like he imagined because he didn’t know it was possible for someone to be as beautiful as you were.
“Nice to see that the two of you met.” Diana chirped, causing the two of you to take a large step away from each other upon her arrival. “I’m going to go play bingo in the dining hall with Maude-“ She started, but didn’t get the chance to finish before her son interrupted her.
“You hate bingo-“ Spencer’s brow furrowed, silently questioning her sudden interest in a game he knew she hated her whole life.
At the same time, you mirrored his confused expression, narrowing your eyes as you let out something she’d told you in confidence. “You hate Maude-“
With a small smirk, she chuckled. Both you and Spencer had caught her in an obvious lie.
“The two of you should chat, get to know each other.” She suggested, patting Spencer’s shoulder softly as she walked past him, towards the dining hall, but not before sending you a small, subtle thumbs up that went completely unnoticed by Spencer.
As soon as she rounded the corner and was out of sight, you turned to face Spencer again, who let out a nervous chuckle as he met your stare.
“So...” He trailed off, not really asking a question but hoping you had an answer of what to do next.
“Uh, we can go to the library?” You offered. “It’s pretty quiet in there this time of day.”
You lead the way to the library where a few of the residents were reading books. They paid no attention to the two of you as you entered, although it was quite a sight to see.
Almost upon instinct, you lead him to the table where you and Diana spent most days. Your hand wrapped around the back of one of the wooden chairs as he spoke, catching your attention.
His gaze was fixed on the abandoned chess board set up by the fireplace. You’d only ever seen two of the residents play against each other, but neither one of them was in sight.
“Do you play?” He asked, nodding his head towards the board and you nodded.
“I haven’t in a while, but yes.” You explained, trying to recall just how many years it’d been since the last time you and your father had played together.
He was the only one that ever played with you. He taught you when you were young and you became addicted. The only problem was, it wasn’t a really popular game amongst kids and your mother never had the desire to learn, so you only really got to play with your dad who traveled a lot for work.
“Do you have a preference?” He asked, taking a seat in one of the large armchairs before he began setting up the board.
“Not really-“ You lied as you took the seat opposite of him.
You preferred the black pieces because you hated making the first move. It was like Spencer picked up on that and flipped the board so that the white pieces were in front of him and the black pieces were in front of you.
You offered him a kind smile as he made his move and started the game. The two of you played in silence, only sharing a few polite smiles and glances every so often as you moved your pieces around the board.
Truthfully, you didn’t know what to say. For as much time as you’d spent thinking about him, none of it was actually spent thinking that you’d actually meet him and now that he was there, in front of you, you had no idea what to say.
Thinking of how to strike up a quick conversation, you shifted slightly in your seat before clearing your throat softly and asking him, “How was your trip?”
He’d been too busy thinking about what to say to you that he almost didn’t realize that you’d asked him a question first.
“Oh, uh, it was alright.” He let out quickly, ending the conversation just as quickly as it had started.
It was your move again and as you looked at the board and planned your next move, you thought it would be best to let him know that he wouldn’t be stuck playing chess with you for very long.
“For what it’s worth, bingo is over in half an hour so you won’t be stuck with me for too long.” You informed him without looking up.
“Right-“ He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and he hoped that you wouldn’t misinterpret it as a sign of relief.
“You’re a psychology major, right?”
He said the words before he could even stop himself and as you met his stare with a small smile, your brows furrowed. “Yeah, with a minor in child development.” You explained. “How’d you-“
“My mom mentioned that you were reading Freud to her.” He told you with a small smile and you laughed softly thinking about the day Diana nearly fell asleep as you read to her.
“Although his work on dream analysis is discredited, it’s required reading material.” You justified your reading choice as he made his move. “If it were up to me, I’d be reading Piaget’s work.” He lit up at the mention of the Swiss psychologist. “You have an undergrad in Psychology, don’t you?”
It was now his turn to mimic your confused expression as his brow arched. “Yeah, I uh, how’d you-“
“Your mom talks about you an awful lot.” You explained with a small laugh as his cheeks flushed with warmth.
“She talks about you a lot too.” He let out.
“She does?”
“Yeah, I think she might like you better than she likes me.” He admitted and you quickly shook your head in disagreement.
“That’s impossible.” You assured him. “You’re incredibly smart, well mannered and successful, which is something any mother would be proud of.” The blush on his cheeks darkened as you continued to compliment him. “Not to mention that you’re-“ You hadn’t even realized what you were about to say before you had time to catch yourself and immediately stopped yourself from sharing what you were about to. “Nevermind.”
He wasn’t fishing for compliments, he was just curious as to what you were going to say and urged you to continue with a simple, “What?”
You tried your hardest to avoid his stare, looking everywhere but his eyes. “Nothing.” You said, watching the way the corners of his mouth fell into a small pout, as if he were disappointed. “I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I don’t really do this much. I guess I’m just nervous.”
His brows furrowed as he moved one of his pieces and captured one of your own.
“You’re nervous?” He asked in disbelief as his fingers traced over the rook he just captured.
“To be fair, the only pictures I’ve seen of you are your baby pictures and Diana failed to inform me that you were so-“ There wasn’t much thought put into your words and before you could take time to think about the one that you wanted to use, you blurred out the first one that came to mind. “Attractive.”
Your eyes widened in horror one you realized what you’d just admitted. You were never one to be that straightforward with someone. He looked stunned as you tried to gage his reaction, feeling your whole body tense as the air around the two of you became thick with tension again.
Within seconds though, it disappeared as the sound of his laughter filled the quiet room.
“Why are you laughing?” You asked softly as a few of the other residents looked up from their books and towards the two of you.
“I should be the nervous one-“ He told you, quickly composing himself and offering the residents he’d disturbed as apologetic smile. “Not you.”
“And why’s that?”
“My mom has been ranting and raving about you for months-“ He explained. “And not once did she mention how beautiful you are.”
You were absolutely stunned. Your mouth almost fell open and he watched with an amused smile as your cheeks flushed.
You didn’t know what to say.
“It’s your move-“ He informed you with a knowing smirk, reminding you of the turn you’d yet to take.
The two of you talked for hours. Between your game of chess, which was actually a lot more challenging than he thought it’d be, and the conversation between the two of you, it was easy to lose track of time.
Which was exactly what the two of you did.
You didn’t know how much time had passed since the sun went down, but you didn’t care as you listened to Spencer tell a story about his childhood that was very different from the version Diana had shared with you.
She was under the assumption that he once tried to see if he could fly by jumping out of the tree in their backyard, but he was actually spooked by a squirrel and ended up losing his balance, causing him to fall.
There was a warm glow coming from the fireplace that a nurse had lit a few hours ago and as the two of you laughed, all of the anxiety and doubt that you were fixated on earlier had completely disappeared.
Talking to Spencer was easy.
It was like talking to an old friend. You hadn’t realized that Diana had told him as much as she had about you and were pleasantly surprised when he asked you about stories from your childhood and the neighborhood you grew up in.
Turns out, the two of you used to frequent the same book store after school. Your mom took you every Wednesday after school and his mom took him every Tuesday and Thursday.
The two of you missed each other by only a day.
He was in the middle of another story as your eyes scanned the board, plotting your next move.
Each of you only had a few pieces left on the board and you knew that you were nearing the end of the game.
He laughed, telling you about one of his coworkers as your eyes widened. There was no way. You checked. You triple checked before you wrapped your fingers around your piece and moved it into place.
“Checkmate!” You exclaimed excitedly and his mouth fell open in shock. He thought he had you. He’d been so distracted by sharing stories and the way that your tongue kept poking out from between your lips as you were trying to concentrate that he didn’t see your pieces closing in around his Queen before it was too late.
He chuckled softly as you rose to your feet. He was about to congratulate you when the two of you heard someone clear their throat loudly from behind you.
“Visiting hours are over.”
As soon as you turned around you were met with a deep frown from Marley who looked more annoyed than usual.
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize how late it was.” You apologized, genuinely amazed by how much time had passed. “Sorry, Marley-“
Spencer offered her a soft smile as he rose to his feet which she completely ignored as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She told the two of you sternly.
“Right-“ You nodded softly, grabbing your book from the table and your jacket before making your way passed her. Spencer followed close behind as the two of you made your way out of the sanitarium.
He offered to walk you to your car, insisting that it was way too late for him to let you walk alone and you happily took him up on his offer.
When you reached your car, your hand wrapped around the handle as you tossed your book and jacket inside before turning back to face him.
You weren’t sure if you should shake his hand or hug him. Hugging seemed a bit too straightforward, but then again, so did shaking his hand.
Instead, you settled on asking him a question.
“See you tomorrow?” You asked hopefully.
“See you then.” He confirmed.
Except, he didn’t.
He got a call early in the morning from Hotch asking if he could hop on a flight and meet them in Louisiana. In his absence, a case had come up that required his knowledge.
Having no other choice, he booked a one way to Louisiana and left before the sun rose the next morning.
He was gone before you even woke up.
Despite his departure, he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. You were real. You were so much better than the fantasy he came up with.
Everyone noticed.
Everyone noticed how he couldn’t stop smiling and how he seemed to be distracted by whatever was going on in his head. Not enough to distract him from his work however, but enough for Morgan to realize that he wasn’t listening to a word he was saying as they rode in the SUV together.
He was in a world of his own again.
He’d been meaning to ask about his trip and couldn’t think of a better time to tease him than when he had no other choice but to sit there and take it.
“So?” He smirked as he used only one hand to steer the car, something he knew drove his partner nuts.
“So what?” Spencer replied, meeting his stare. He silently begged Derek to keep his eyes on the road. Next time, he was going to drive.
“Are we just going to pretend that you didn’t go to Vegas this weekend?” Derek smiled and even though Spencer tried his hardest, it was almost impossible for him not to smile too.
“I wanted to see my mom-“ He tried, turning to look out the window as he recalled the weekend before Derek could see his wide smile.
He saw it anyway.
“Nothing wrong with that, pretty boy-“ He assured him. “But for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never taken a personal day, let alone an entire weekend-“
He didn’t have to turn towards him to know that he was smirking, he could hear it in his voice, but he did anyway and before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth.
“Her name’s Y/N.” Spencer smiled softly as he recalled the memory of meeting you for the first time.
Derek, who was quite literally on the edge of his seat with anticipation, waited for Spencer to continue, but the kid just sat there with a dopey smile on his face.
He knew Reid had it bad, but he didn’t know it was this bad.
“And?” He urged him to continue and watched as Spencer’s smile suddenly faltered.
“She’s nice.” He let out flatly, almost as if he had been defeated. Derek knew that he had more to say.
“But-“ Spencer took a deep breath before admitting what was really bothering him. “She lives in Vegas, and I live here.”
“And?” Derek raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You like her-“
“I said she’s nice.” Spencer was quick to defend himself but Derek rolled his eyes at his comment.
“I know what you said-“ Morgan explained. “But I also know you, and I know that you like this girl.” Spencer was silent. His lack of a reply gave Derek all the confirmation he needed to know he was right. He watched as Spencer silently picked the skin around his nail bed, something he noticed he only did when he was nervous before he asked, “What are you so afraid of?”
He didn’t even know where to begin. As someone who had a terrible habit of overthinking everything, he’d already spent too much time dwelling on everything that could possibly go wrong.
Even though he’d met you in person and you were above and beyond anything he ever could’ve imagined, he still wasn’t sure that you’d felt what he had.
He was nearly positive you didn’t.
His feelings for you were so sudden and unexplainable, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was the only one that felt them.
“She’s absolutely perfect.” He admitted, followed by a small sigh of disappointment. “What if it doesn’t work out?” He asked his friend. “What if she hates my job? What if she can’t handle me constantly being away? What if five years from now she realizes that I’m not who she thought I was and-“
Derek had no idea what he was getting into when he asked Spencer what could go wrong. He forgot to take into account that Spencer had already gone over every possible situation that could’ve gone wrong, twice, and that he was prepared to share all of them with him since he expressed an interest.
“Reid, man-“ He cut him off, partially for his own sanity and partially so he wouldn’t get himself wound up. “You’ve gotta slow down.” Morgan told him calmly. “Take a deep breath. You just met this girl.”
That’s what made his feelings all the more confusing and frustrating. He’d only met you once. He’d spent less than 12 hours with you and he was already thinking about a future with you.
“But she’s amazing.” He argued, as if that would get Derek to understand what he was going through.
Of course she was amazing. She was a woman. According to Spencer, she was a beautiful woman, which Morgan knew better than anybody else that a beautiful woman could drive a man absolutely mad.
“What about her is so amazing?” He asked, hoping to set Reid right and ease his nerves.
“She’s smart.” Spencer smiled fondly. “Not to mention she’s incredibly beautiful. She’s probably the most beautiful girl in the world.” Derek thought he was just smitten before, but he couldn’t help but smile as he listened to Spencer talk about her. “She spoke to me like I was an actual person, not like I was some genius or an awkward inconvenience, and she actually listened to what I had to say. She was kind, not because she had to be or because she was being polite, she genuinely was.” He continued to open up and Derek subconsciously wondered if he ever made Spencer feel that way on accident or if he’d ever noticed someone talking down to him like that. He realized only after he said something that it happened quite often.
“When she laughed-“ Spencer paused, allowing himself to laugh softly as he recalled the sound of your own laughter. “When she laughed, I could feel it in my chest. The only way I could think to describe it was like sunshine. There was this warmth in my chest chest and I felt like I was floating.” He explained and Derek couldn’t help but smile. “Have you ever felt that?”
“Can’t say I have-“ He answered honestly, but then again, Derek Morgan had never been in love or anything remotely close before.
“She beat me in chess.” Reid admitted and Morgan accidentally accelerated. He quickly eased off the gas and waited for Spencer to scold him, but he never did. Instead, he smiled, as if he had been anticipating that reaction from him, even though he hadn’t.
“You let her win though, right?” Derek asked, knowing that it was nearly impossible to defeat Spencer in chess because he’d spent years trying to do so himself.
“No!” Reid exclaimed, still surprised that you’d managed to beat him fair and square. He wasn’t a sore loser, but it was definitely harder for him to focus on the game when he had an opponent as breathtaking as you were.
As strange as it was, something clicked and Derek finally understood Spencer’s dilemma. He’d met the perfect girl, his perfect counterpart, but he was afraid that there would be too many obstacles forcing them apart for them to ever be happy together.
He’d felt like that once before. Granted, it was when he was much younger than Reid was, but he knew the feeling.
Sometimes when he closed his eyes he could still see her. They used to hang out on the playground before lunch in grade school and Derek thought she was going to be his everything.
He’d walk her home, helped her with her homework, and when they got older, he’d help her sneak out of her house so they could make out in the backseat of his car.
He tried his hardest to make things work with her, but she wasn’t as invested as he was. He always saw a future with her. A family. A house. A dog running around the front yard for him to come home to. But she just wanted someone to help her escape and take her mind off of what was bothering her most days. He was only ever a distraction for her.
After spending years fawning over someone who didn’t reciprocate the same feelings he did, he adapted a new approach to women, one that unfortunately stuck, and buried his soft, kind heart underneath a carefree, reckless exterior.
“Sounds like she’s worth taking a risk for.” Derek finally let out. “Even if it doesn’t work out a year from now, a week from now, or tomorrow, you’ve got to give it a try, man.”
Spencer had never heard Derek sound so sure or sincere in his entire life, which was why he knew that he was right.
A few weeks had passed since you officially met the one and only Spencer Reid and you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
You expected to see him when you arrived for your shift the next morning and you were disappointed when he wasn’t there.
You didn’t say anything, but Diana noticed you were looking around for him and noticed the way your smile faltered when she explained to you that he’d been called away on a case.
That was it.
It’d been weeks since you’d seen him, weeks since you spoke to him, and even then, you couldn’t get him out of your head.
Now that you’d met him, you realized he was even more incredible than you initially had thought, which made your heart simultaneously soar and plummet at the same time.
He was truly amazing, a well accomplished man who was easy on the eyes and as much as it pained you to admit, way out of your league.
As your crush continued to grow on him, so did your feelings of insecurity and doubt.
As much as you thought there was something going on between the two of you, you brushed it off, convincing yourself the he was probably just being nice.
But then you remembered when he called you beautiful and your cheeks grew warm just thinking about it.
Maybe he was just friendly.
Your overthinking and overanalyzing  would be the death of you. It was only a matter of time.
You were sitting at one of the tables with Diana, who was playing cards with one of the other residents, Maude, and Maude’s granddaughter who’d spent the last three hours flipping through a stack of wedding catalogs.
She was getting married in the fall and since she wasn’t really close with her mother, something Maude often talked about, she had enlisted in the help of her grandmother to create her dream wedding.
Clippings of dresses, cakes and rings were scattered across the tabletop while Heidi, Maude’s granddaughter, continued rearranging and cutting pages out of magazines.
You were pretending to read a book, which mostly involved you starring at the page for far too long and getting lost in your thoughts, when Maude gently nudged your shoulder.
“When are you going to get married?” She pressed noisily and Diana rolled her eyes as she placed her card down.
“I’m not sure-“ You answered honestly. “There’s no rush, really-“
“But you’re not getting any younger.” The older woman frowned with disappointment and although it wasn’t her place, Heidi nodded in agreement. She couldn’t have been a few years younger than you. She definitely wasn’t older. What did she know?
“You’re right, I’m not-“ You agreed politely, hoping she’d let it go. Unfortunately for you, however, she didn’t.
“So, what are you waiting for?” A new question was proposed as she set her cards down on the table, despite the fact that it was her turn, and shifted so that her full attention was on you.
Her eyes bore deep into yours with judgment and wonder as she raised an eyebrow, waiting for your reply.
“I’ve still got plenty of time, Maude.” You told her lightly. Diana could tell there was a hint of annoyance in your voice and she couldn’t blame you. It was very hard to keep a calm and collected composure when talking to Maude, someone who made almost everyone’s blood boil with her pesky comments and downright rude remarks.
“All I’m saying is your prime years are passing you by and you’re spending them here, with us-“ She pointed to Diana with a look of disgust as if the idea of spending time with the two older women sickened her, even though it was something you enjoyed. Well, you enjoyed spending time with Diana, at least. “I just don’t want your life to pass you by-“
“That’s very kind, thank you.” You cut her off with mock sincerity as she reached for your hand, offering you a small smile and patting it softly.
You wanted to shake free from her cold grip, but you knew that’d be rude, so you tried your hardest not to flinch as she squeezed the back of your hand a bit too tightly.
“Diana, if your son isn’t interested, my grandson might-“ She didn’t even get to finish before Diana scoffed.
“Back off, Maude-“
The woman who hadn’t known when to stop talking was finally at a loss for words as her eyes went wide at her card playing opponents’ sudden outburst.
She looked absolutely beside herself and you had to bite back a laugh as you saw Heidi’s mouth fall open as well.
Before anyone could say anything else, one of the nurses came around and tapped Maude gently on the shoulder, causing her to turn around.
“It’s time for your session, Miss. Ridgestone.” She smiled widely as she helped the older woman into the wheelchair and wheeled her out of the library and down the hall.
Diana offered you a knowing smile and as soon as Heidi had packed up all of her catalogs, leaving a trail of paper clippings behind, the two of you shared a laugh.
“Thank god-“ Diana groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples as she laughed. “I couldn’t listen to another word from that bat’s mouth. She’s nuts.” You continued to laugh as she placed a hand on your knee gently. “I hope you don’t take what she said to heart-“
Your laughter subsided as you shook your head, offering her a warm smile as you placed your hand over hers.
“Oh, don’t worry-“ You told her, “I’m not interested in her grandson.”
She gave you the same look your mother used to give you when you were being sarcastic and although it was meant lightheartedly, Diana’s smile faltered.
“That’s not what I meant-“ She let out softly.
You knew what she meant. Although you would’ve rather just dropped the whole thing altogether, you knew Diana’s intentions were good.
“I know.” With a reassuring smile you squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
She returned the gesture, patting your knee softly before removing her hand as you closed your book and started cleaning up the mess Maude and Heidi had left behind.
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, sweetheart.” She told you. “You’ll have plenty of time to settle down, when you’re ready.” She made quick work of packing away the playing cards she’d been using while you picked up the tiny pieces of paper that Heidi didn’t bother to clean up. “I’m sorry if you felt like I’ve been pressuring you, that really wasn’t my intention.”
You froze immediately, your entire body stiffening as she confessed her apology.
“Selfishly, I’ll admit, I’d love to have you as a daughter in law.” She continued before you could interrupt. “Not to mention the fact that you and Spencer would have the cutest, smartest, most polite child or children in the world, I’m-I’m doing it again, I’m sorry.”
With a lighthearted chuckle, she set the box of cards on top of your book as you threw away the scraps and took a seat next to her.
You hadn’t thought that far ahead, but Diana was already convinced that you would have the most wonderful children with her son.
You liked Spencer, a lot, but you still wanted to finish school and take time to find a career you were passionate about before you settled down.
What if he was in a rush to get married or worse, insisted that he be the sole source of income for your family?
Although you were already sitting, you felt like you needed to sit down before your knees gave out.
You kept reminding yourself that you only met him once, but even though you’d only spent a few hours together, they were special and so different from anything else you’d felt before.
Maybe, you didn’t have to think that far ahead.
Maybe, you could try to focus on the present instead of worrying about the future.
Maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself to fall in love with him at your own pace.
“It’s ok.” You accepted her apology with a warm smile. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, knowing that she couldn’t hear your thoughts but still feeling like you’d been caught thinking about them. She didn’t say anything. If you lost color in your face, she’d be concerned, but she was a mother after all and knew the difference between an embarrassed blush and a sickening flush.
Cleaning your throat softly, you asked her a question, causing her to perk up.
“Have you spoken to Spencer lately?”
With a small smirk, she informed you, “He called me the other night, but it was a very brief call-“
You nodded softly to show that you were listening, but it wasn’t until she opened her mouth again that you fully processed what she was hinting at.
“He asked about you.”
“He did?” It came out much softer than you intended and your eyes widened ever so slightly as you asked for confirmation.
“He did.” Diana played along. “He wanted to know how you’ve been.“
And just like that your heart was doing that thing again. It was beating faster just at the idea of him and the mention of his name.
“That’s it?” You asked with a small frown, not sure what to make of what she’d just shared with you.
Before you could overthink it, Diana bit back a smirk.
Your brows furrowed as you questioned her further.
The older woman smiled before shrugging her shoulders and admitting, “He made me promise not to tell.”
You were about to ask another question when one of the nurses from the front desk approached the table.
“There’s a visitor for you at the front desk.” She informed the two of you and it wasn’t until you looked up that you realized both her and Diana were looking at you.
“For me?” You asked and she nodded softly. “I don’t-“ She must’ve been mistaken. “Why would-“ There was no way someone was there to visit you. “That doesn’t even-“ Who on earth would be visiting you while you were working? “I’m with a patient.”
The nurse shrugged her shoulders before walking back the way she came. You turned to Diana, who was trying her hardest not to laugh at your shocked expression.
“It’s rude to leave a guest waiting, Y/N.” She informed you, rising to her feet and pushing her chair in.
“I’m going, I’m going-“ You told her, following the nurse out of the library and to the main lobby.
As you rounded the corner to the front desk you stopped dead in your tracks as soon as you saw him there.
He had his back towards you, but you could tell it was him
Not a second later did he turn around, his eyes meeting yours across the way as he offered you a gentle smile followed by a small wave.
A few of the residents watched on. Word traveled fast around the sanitarium and it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Spencer ended up losing track of time all those weeks ago and were essentially kicked out at the end of the night.
Unbeknownst to you, the two of you had become a pretty popular talking point of the old women who liked to gossip. The older ladies mumbled to one another softly as they watched Spencer take a few steps towards you before you met him halfway.
You couldn’t hide your smile any longer.
He was here.
“You’re-“ You let out breathlessly, still somewhat in shock that he was finally back after all of those weeks of waiting. “You’re actually here.”
He thought you were even more beautiful than he remembered and wondered how that was even possible, considering he had a pretty decent memory.
His hands were shaking, but you didn’t notice. You were too busy smiling at him, beaming with a joy that you could no longer contain.
“Yeah, I am.” He smiled sheepishly, mirroring your wide grin. “Uh, these are for you-“ He said, handing you the bouquet of fresh flowers he’d been clutching tightly.
They were your favorite flower.
“They’re beautiful, thank you.” A few onlookers gushed loudly as you thanked him, bringing the fresh flowers to your nose and inhaling deeply.  “How’d you-“
It was like you knew what he was going to say before he even said it.
“My mom told me.” He explained with a smile.
“She’s going to be thrilled that you’re here.” You told him. “Two visits in one year is very very excit-“
“I’m not here to see my mom.” He let out quickly and you weren’t quite sure you heard him right.
“You’re not?” You asked with a furrowed brow as a small, gentle hand gave your shoulder a soft squeeze.
“No, he’s not.” Diana answered from behind you.
“I’m here to see you.” He let out softly.
“Me?” You asked with a furrowed brow.
“You.” He confirmed.
Diana bit back a smirk as she watched you realize what was happening. With a small smile you turned toward her.
“You planned this-“ You accused and she just shrugged.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime.” Spencer proposed and you couldn’t believe it.
“You came all this way, just to ask me on a date?” You asked in disbelief, biting back a small giggle of absolute shock.
He nodded quickly before continuing to explain.
“I know I don’t really know you all that well, but I feel like I do, and there’s just something about you that I-“ He was rarely at a loss for words, but as you stood in front of him with kind eyes and a soft smile, his brain turned to mush and his IQ was split in half as he struggled to come up with the right words to say. “I’d really like to get to know you.” He settled, almost instantly regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. “I hope that doesn’t sound weird, I just really-“
“Yes.” You cut him off and his eyes widened.
“Yes.” You confirmed before asking, “How long are you staying?”
He couldn’t believe you actually said yes. He was hoping, but there was still a part of him that wasn’t sure you’d actually agree to going on a date with him.
“Just for the weekend.” He told you. “I want a rematch, you know-“
“You’re on.” You promised him and neither one of you could contain your smiles any longer.
It wasn’t love. Not yet, anyway. But in a few years, it could be better than anything either one of you could’ve ever imagined.
Tagging a few angel I adore: @thollandss @veraiconcos @thematthewgraygube @dreamybebe @eideticmemory​ @darnittumbleweed​ @gayprentiss​ @agntprentiss​ @gublerscoffee​ @imagining-in-the-margins​ @delicatereids​ @saprentiss​ @emilyshotch​ @malmgg​ @spacedikut​ @babybloodstonebones​ @eideticgenius​ @naturallytom​
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reidscanehand · 7 months ago
The Statistical Probability of Falling in Love
Master List to The Statistical Probability Series
Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader
Category: Fluff 
TW: Mentions of bullying, cursing, kind of a depressing mental space at the beginning, mentions of an erection, and again, like...desiring somebody beyond the realms of friendship. 
Also, good lord, he’s so awkward, so this is kind of overdramatic, but all in good fun. It’s also kind of super long because I have no filter. And I loved this request by @radtwinkie .
This request has taken me literal ages to complete and I am so sorry for that! It’s really just because I genuinely loved this request and thought it was so precious and lovely; I really didn’t want to mess it up...all that to say I’ve rewritten it at least twice, so I hope it’s close to what was imagined when requested. Thank you @radtwinkie for your patience and I hope you all enjoy! xx
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~ “Most of us have nicknames - annoying, endearing, embarrassing. But what about your true name? It is not necessarily your given name. But it is the one to which you are most eager to respond when called. Ever wonder why? Your true name has the secret power to call you.” - Vera Nazarian ~
Spencer is not a huge fan of nicknames. Part of it, of course, was the intense bullying he’d received as a child and teenager. Which was, frankly, rather hard to get past, even as an adult. He loved his BAU family, and for the majority of his time working with them, he felt loved and seen and accepted. But every so often Derek would make a comment that hit too close to home, Hotch would shut down one of his tangents with a slightly more annoyed tap than usual, Rossi would roll his eyes a little harder than usual, Penelope would seem genuinely overwhelmed, or Emily or JJ would be just a little too relieved to get to walk away as he began to ramble. It felt vastly unfair; Spencer wasn’t one to believe in karma, but there was something in him that felt like...maybe he deserved this acute loneliness. The brain he had been given, the intelligence he had...only for it to be received with...not hatred, exactly, but a sort of begrudged acceptance felt like a penance for the brain he was lucky to have, but never asked for.  
No one is perfect, but in those moments when he allows his anxieties and insecurities to get the better of him, Spencer can’t help but feel that his perceived imperfections are maybe too much? 
JJ is overly competitive, but Will loves that about her. Hotch is borderline humorless, especially when it comes to the job, but both Beth and Haley were able to see beyond that. Rossi is sarcastic, too wry sometimes for his own good, yet he is loved and respected. Derek can be testy to the point of meanness, and yet he always seems to be showered with affection by Penelope and many, many women. Penelope is quirky, sure, but always adored and never doubted. Emily could be borderline cruel and yet still manages to maintain a level of intimacy with the team that Spencer just does not seem to have. So, though nobody is perfect, Spencer is worried that he is so imperfect that his brain has muddled himself a hole he will never be able to leave. It feels like an absolutely hopeless situation...that is, until he meets you. 
It was after a particularly gnarly case in Los Angeles that Strauss decided to hire a new communications liaison. The publicity surrounding the case was fierce prior to the BAU’s arrival, but their involvement only brought more attention. The case was incredibly complicated and the investigation dragged on longer than anyone wanted it to. The press was practically vicious by the time the thing had been solved and, upon arriving back at Quantico, the whole team was shuffled into several meetings with Strauss regarding how best to handle press moving forward. Strauss didn’t want to add anyone to the team, nor did anyone else, really, but after an exploratory meeting with you, she was impressed and you were hired. 
Had it been literally anyone else in the universe in your position, Spencer’s convinced they would’ve fallen flat on their face. The team really didn’t want a new member, Emily and Derek were borderline hostile about it prior to your arrival, and Penelope was so nerve wracked by change that her thoughts flew from hacking every piece of technology you owned to hugging you like a teddy bear in a matter of seconds. Spencer himself didn’t love change. The balance of life at the BAU was temperamental at best with the type of work they did, so the addition of anyone was jarring. However, from the moment you walked through the glass doors of the BAU, Spencer knew everything would be alright. At least, for the rest of team. He was well and truly fucked. 
First of all, and rather most importantly to Spencer, you’re super nice. Not just “nice”, but rather so nice that the word itself feels inadequate. After your first case with the team, you noticed that Hotch was having a hard time. Well, everyone noticed (they are profilers, mind), but you were the only one to do anything about it. Spencer is still unsure of whether you were unaware of Hotch’s incredible reserve, or you’re just so kind you weaseled your way around it, because when you offer him a hug before boarding the jet, he not only accepts it, but leans into you and reciprocates. He thanks you for it. The team is dumbfounded. Not to mention the absolutely cracking job you’ve done of handling the publicity surrounding the case. You’re quick to underplay your work on this one, but it was a rural town in Mississippi and you handled the delicacy of the case with a level of grace and tact that blew everyone away. Thus, secondly: you’re rather mind-blowingly excellent at your job. Spencer swears you could be a profiler with the capacity you have for human emotion. Whether it be a newspaper reporter, a grieving parent, an obnoxious local television personality or the unsub’s family, you seem to have a knack for talking to people, making them comfortable, and keeping the entire team safe, well cared for, and out of harm’s way in the public eye. Spencer even heard JJ mention to Emily that, had you always been the communications liaison, the BAU’s position in the bureau would never be questioned. And finally, though Spencer’s a little ashamed that he has such a fixation on it: you are incredibly pretty, which is always just a little hard for Spencer to get around. And had you behaved like everyone else, he would have acclimated to it, as he had with the other attractive women he worked with. But, the thing don’t behave like everyone else. 
It’s on your first case with the BAU that it happens. 
Spencer’s been careful not to say too much around you. He desperately wants to make a good impression, though at this point he’s not sure why. He wants you him, he supposes. Not in a loving way (not yet, anyway), but just in a generally pleasant “you’re not so bad” kind of way. Thus far, to his mind, he’s gotten away with it. It’s sad, really, that he almost feels as though he has to pull off a trick, a magic trick of sorts, in order to make a good impression with new people. Truly, you’re so kind and lovely that he could probably be himself and you’d still like him, but that’s something Spencer’s not very willing to leave to chance. He’s cut himself off on at least three different tangents since the case started, worked carefully to correct people in a more gentle manner than usual, and allowed his answers to come at what feels like a more natural pace than he typically would. Hell, he even shook your hand when he met you, just to stave off what Spencer feels is the inevitable stasis of weirdness he’ll be in when you finally get to know the real him. He’s fashioned what he hopes is an appealing version of himself in order to get to know you. He’s damn near head over heels for you already, but nothing prepares him for this. 
While he’s worked hard to cut back on The Reid Effect in order to keep you at arm’s length, the Mississippi heat and intensity of the case are waning on his determination quicker than he’d like. There are obvious burns on the victim, dumped unceremoniously in a creek in a woodsy area, but the burns had gone unmentioned by the local cops prior to the BAU’s arrival to the scene. As it’s your first case, Hotch pairs you with Spencer and Rossi to go to the most recent crime scene to get a feel for the back and forth with the BAU and the local police department. Spencer can feel the sterile version of himself falling back with every second as the local PD prove themselves to be relatively useless. 
“The burns,” Spencer says, slowly, trying to forestall his corrective nature. “Why weren’t those mentioned in the initial reports?” 
“Oh, we assumed those were from the sun. Exposure, ya know?” answers Sherriff Riley. 
“That seems a bit...farfetched,” Spencer corrects, carefully, ever so slowly. 
“Now I know y’all don’t know nothin’ ‘bout the Mississippi sun, but-”
“Actually, this area of Mississippi sits in the 2 to 3, low to moderate range of the UV index, meaning that, while it’s advised to cover up on bright days if you’re prone to burning and wear the suggested average 30 SPF sunscreen, which is the average SPF suggested for the majority of the country, it’s not that far removed from what you’d find in Quantico or D.C. In fact, in a wooded area like this, it’s almost entirely unlikely that someone would sustain burns of this nature.” It’s out before he can stop himself and Spencer cringes inwardly at the quickness with which the facts fall from his mouth. He can feel you looming behind him, can almost feel your breath hitch as Sherriff Riley stares at Spencer blankly, attempting to take in what he just said. As is typical when this occurs, Rossi steps in.
“Basically, we think the unsub is burning them as part of the signature,” Rossi explains. 
“Oh,” Sherriff Bailey says vaguely. “Okay. We’ll let the medical examiner know, then.” Rossi smiles and steps toward another part of the crime scene, diverting the attention of the Sherriff. Spencer gulps, his throat suddenly dry as you sidle up next to him. 
“How did you know that?” you ask, quietly. Spencer can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s terrified that he’ll see some form of ridicule or rejection in your eyes and, even in the mildest of forms, his not really sure he could deal with it. 
“Um,” Spencer begins, awkwardly. “I have this...eidetic memory thing?” He cringes inwardly again as he phrases this fact as a question because he feels kind of ridiculous. 
“What does that mean?”
“It’s like...I’ll read something, or even, sometimes see or hear something, and I just...remember it. Auto-didacticism, to some extent,” he answers, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels.
“Like, forever?” you ask. “You remember stuff forever?” He gets it together to look at you because your tone is confusing to him. You’re not being rude or teasing him, you’re just genuinely asking questions.
“Uh, kind of...I don’t forget much,” Spencer says. “I can also read really fast, so I gather that information at a relatively rapid rate.” 
“How fast do you read?” you ask, turning your body to face him. Spencer stares at you for a moment, sifting through your facial cues and mannerisms, perplexed at the honest curiosity you’re exhibiting. 
“Well,” he swallows, scared that, at any moment, this genuine air of interest that you’ve granted him will shift into something he’s more used to. “20,000 words a minute.”
“Wow,” your eyes widen. You look down for a moment and smile to yourself. “You’re a proper genius then, aren’t you?”
“Actually, I don’t really believe that genius can be quantified-”
“That sounds like something someone who’s definitely a genius would say,” you tease, gently. 
“Then I guess I am a genius...because I did just say that,” he responds quietly. You stare at him for a moment allowing a gorgeous smile to play on your lips before throwing your head back in the prettiest laugh he’s ever heard. Spencer feels a grin growing on his face because you’re not teasing him meanly, but playfully. And you’re not laughing at him, but with him, at a joke he made. And he’s pretty sure you’ve complimented him. You, a pretty and sincerely nice woman, just complimented him, Spencer Reid, awkward nerdy man that he is, in the woods on an FBI case. And he made you laugh. And now he can’t stop grinning. 
“Got any other facts or figures for me?” you ask, again, so very genuinely. He just stares at you, unsure of what to say as his brain can barely comprehend what’s happening, let alone come up with a singular fact or statistic. “Seems like I’ve got you tongue-tied, Stats,” you smile. 
“Stats?” he asks, cautiously, your kind stare not allowing the bona fide grin to move from his face. 
“Do you mind if I call you that?” you ask, a sudden hitch in your cadence making Spencer recognize that you’re also nervous. “It’d be nice to...have a friend, you know?”
“Stats, huh?” he whispers to himself, his grin not abating. “I'd love that, actually, Y/N.” 
“Cool,” you smile, giving him a look that he’s damn near sure he’d kill to keep. “You feel free to make up a nickname for me too, if you’d like, Stats,” you say, walking away. 
And now Spencer knows he’s in trouble because he literally can’t stop grinning. Even when the case gets harder, the idea that you want to be his friend...that you think he’s worthy of a fun nickname, that you might think he’s interesting, that you’re - dare he believe it - playful with him.... he simply can’t wrap his head around it. 
It happens more often than he’d like to admit and being the baby of the BAU family (even though, much to his annoyance, you are definitely at least a couple of years younger than Spencer and he is still considered the baby) comes with its price. And when you’re a certified genius in possession of an IQ of 187 and the social skills of a scared butterfly, things like this tend to happen. For Spencer, it’s really not a big deal at this point. 
The team has been called to help the Sacramento Police Department due to a string of medically coerced heart attacks. The unsub is forcing heart attacks on his victims by delivering them an overdose of caffeine. The victims are all mild caffeine addicts, either drinking excessive amounts of coffee, tea, or energy drinks which the unsub is lethally dosing with absurdly high amounts of the stimulant. At the roundtable, Spencer chimed in with the average amounts of caffeine found in typical sources: 80 mg for the average energy drink, anywhere from 50 to 235 mg for the average black coffee - only to be cut off. He’s used to being cut off, either verbally or, as had just occurred, a gentle tap on the arm from Hotch. What he isn’t used to is your response. The briefing is over, everyone breaks to gather their go bags and prepare for the incredibly long flight to Sacramento when he feels a gentle pressure against his back, right in between his shoulder blades. He turns and almost smacks into you. 
“God, you have long legs,” you say, “you’re almost impossible to catch up to, Stats.”
“Sorry,” Spencer replies, not ever quite sure if people are joking or not. 
“Long legs are a virtue,” you correct, whether you’ve caught on to his apprehension or not, Spencer’s not sure, but he appreciates it either way. 
“How can I help you, Y/N?” he asks. He still hasn’t come up with a nickname for you. As you’ve grown closer over these past few cases, he’s not sure what to call you. You seem set on a platonic friendship, though he’s very quickly gained a completely understandable crush on you, meaning that his ideas on nicknames are tending toward the rather overly affectionate variety. Plus, your name suits you. It’s just as lovely and perfect as you seem to be, anyway. 
“I was wondering, Stats,” you begin, awkwardly, “if you could finish what you were going to say.” 
“What do you mean?” Spencer stares at you, a little lost in your eyes. 
“The average amounts of caffeine thing you were saying,” you amend, staring up at him all wide-eyed and curious again. “I was listening and, um, I think Hotch tapped you or something and you stopped? It seemed kind of rude, to be honest, but...well, I wasn’t quite done learning yet.” 
Spencer is so dumbfounded he can barely speak, let alone recall the average amounts of caffeine found in typical sources. You want him to finish a statistic. A borderline meaningless, completely random fact that he knows from a glance at a newspaper or medical article. You caught up to him in a hallway, nearly chased him down, to learn something from him. He opens his mouth to speak, the beginnings of a sound dying in his mouth. Once again faced with your abject kindness, Spencer finds that he can’t quite string two words together, much less finish his thoughts from moments before. 
“Have I done it again, Stats?” you grin at him, all twinkly and precious. 
“Done what?” he rasps out, still in a daze of confusion. 
“Rendered the resident genius speechless?” you sweetly tease, that delightful smirk toying with your mouth again. It takes Spencer a second to realize he’s straight up staring at your mouth rather than responding. 
“Uh, yeah,” he manages to say. “Uh, yeah”? What the fuck? His mind is moving again, but not in a helpful way. 187 IQ, my ass. “I guess you have.” 
“That’s kind of fun,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. You look back up at him and Spencer is once again bowled over by the fact that you’re just being kindly playful. You’re not being mean or even too terribly jokey, you’re just...God, you’re so sweet. “It’s nice to be able to keep you on your toes.” 
All of my body parts - tip to toe - will be at full attention as long as you keep looking at me like that, he thinks, jarred by the abrupt, ever-so-slightly salacious turn of his thoughts. He’s suddenly very aware of how very pretty you are, how good you smell, and how playful you might be in- 
“Is it?” he gasps, the air finally deciding to reappear in his lungs as he attempts to break through any thoughts of you in his bedroom. Despite how delightful those thoughts may be. 
“Yeah,” you say, wrapping an arm through his and walking you both toward the bullpen to gather your things. “It’s a nice reminder that even geniuses are human. I’ll hit you up for facts just to keep it interesting, is that all right?” You can hit me up for literally anything and I will worship the ground you walk on, he thinks, but all he can manage is a kind of nod. Spencer swears his body is on fire from your touch, but he feels almost sad as you begin to pull away. You squeeze his arm and look down before deciding to continue. 
“Just know that I’m always listening to what you say. No matter what it is,” you reassure him. And as you walk away, it’s not his sexual attraction to you that plagues his mind, it’s the fact that Spencer’s falling in love with you. 
Spencer had been quite certain that, almost a year into knowing you now, your relatively regular habit of sneaking close to him to ask him for a quick statistic or fact would assimilate his entire body to your presence, but no such luck there. You do it more regularly now, and Spencer’s very nearly got the hang of it. Part of it is the closeness, this he knows. And it has nothing to do with his semi-germophobic tendencies and everything to do with the fact that his lungs can’t seem to get used to how absolutely gorgeous you smell. And his eyes can’t seem to get used to how beautiful you are. And his ears can’t seem to get used to how melodic your voice is. Again, IQ Points? Almost entirely useless for something of this nature. 
At this point, he’s relatively sure you know the effect you have on him. It’s pretty hard to miss. He knows this because, obviously, he’s an incredible profiler, but you also both work with a bunch of incredible profilers who have all noticed your effect on him. 
“Seems like Pretty Boy has found himself a Pretty Lady,” Derek sing songs one afternoon. You’re all on the flight back to Quantico from a successful case in Montana. Despite the fact that you've most definitely just entered the jet’s bathroom, Spencer nearly throws his back out as he whips around in his seat to make sure you don’t hear. 
“I have not,” he defends, lamely, his cheeks burning. 
“Oh, come on, Spence,” Emily tags in from across the aisle. “You’re pretty obvious.”
“Well, obviously not, because she doesn’t know. And if she does, she clearly doesn’t want the same thing, so will you please, please not say anything?” Spencer knows he sounds frantic and desperate, but if any of them ruin...whatever this is between you, he’ll almost certainly kill them. JJ stares at him for a moment, her eyes widening at his panic.
“You don’t think Y/N likes you?” JJ looks genuinely surprised, as does Derek and Emily. 
“Not...not in that way,” Spencer murmurs, pretending to brush some lint off of his sweater so he can look away from them all. 
“Kid,” Rossi jumps in from his spot across from Emily. “She calls you Stats.”
“It’s just a fun nickname-”
“You always sit with each other on the plane.”
“I just sit near her, it’s not usually the other way around-”
“You hang out with each other outside of work.”
“I don’t have any other friends and she takes pity on me-”
“Reid,” Hotch says from his seat near the front of the craft, not looking up from his paperwork. “Don’t be dumb. You’re way too smart for that.” The conversation thankfully dies as you reenter the cabin, returning to your seat next to Spencer. He gives you a quick smile as you return to your book. He also tries to pretend everyone isn’t staring at the two of you, but it’s hard considering they’re all being annoyingly obvious. About twenty minutes later, you put your book down. At this point, JJ and Derek have fallen asleep, and Emily looks no more than a few minutes away from it. 
“Hey, Stats,” you whisper, very close to his ear now. So close that he’s pretty sure you can feel the heat from his blushing cheeks.
“What’s the statistical probability of you allowing me to use your arm as my pillow right now?” Your playful smirk is toying so preciously with your lips that Spencer thinks he might agree to a root canal if you asked. 
“100% likely,” he smiles, trying not to sound giddy. 
“Thanks, Stats,” you sigh, laying your head on his arm. Your breath evens out rather quickly. Spencer attempts, he really does, to focus on his book, but the gentle weight of your head, the sweet smell of your shampoo, the adorable scrunch of your nose as you dream, all give way to him giving up on the book and deciding to simply stare at you. Stare at you in awe, it would seem.
“Don’t drool, kiddo,” Rossi whispers, “it’s unseemly.” 
“I’m not drooling,” Spencer argues weakly, his hand twitching with the desire to check whether or not he’s actually drooling. 
“Listen, Reid,” Rossi says, moving to sit across from you, next to a sleeping Derek. “I may not know what it’s like to have an IQ of 187, or an eidetic memory, or be able to read 20,000 words a minute, but I can imagine that it can’t be easy to wander through life with that kind of brain.” He glances at you and, as if on cue, you snuggle slightly into Spencer’s arm. Without thinking, he wraps his arm around you, thankful the armrest is already up, as you snuggle into his side, a small grin decorating your pretty face. Spencer stares at you, unabashed affection in his gaze. He looks back up to Rossi who is watching the scene before him with a wistful smile. “I’m sure it’s not easy to wander through life alone with a mind like yours. And if I had a girl like that-”
“But, I don’t have her, Rossi,” Spencer whispers, the truth of the statement creating a gentle, but unignorably present lump in his throat. He swallows, trying to keep it together. 
“I think you do,” Rossi disagrees. “Look, I know we tease you from time to time, and I’m sorry if that ever goes too far, but...if I may: don’t let this pass you by. Y/N is the only person I’ve ever met who fully recognizes and celebrates how lucky we are to have you. And that’s something you can’t lose, kid.” With that, Rossi stands, crossing back to his seat. 
Spencer rubs the back of his free hand over his mouth now that Rossi is looking away. He wasn’t drooling, but he knows he might as well be. Because he’s in love with you. And it’s a fact he’s been avoiding admitting to himself because he’s not at all sure what you’d do with this information. Or what he will do with this information.
The jet touches down in Quantico and Spencer gently wakes you up, but you’re so tired he lets you lean on him, nearly carrying you from the plane. When you get into the office, Hotch quietly orders Spencer to drive you home as you’re far too tired to get there safely. He agrees because he kind of planned to do that anyway, but it’s nice that he doesn’t have to bring up the concept to you. He gets your keys from your desk, and leads you to your car on the parking deck. 
Spencer helps you into the passenger seat, and you immediately are fully asleep again, which leads to him buckling you in. Your nose scrunches up in your sleep and, without thinking, he leans forward and places a gentle kiss on it. You groan slightly in your sleep and Spencer snaps his head back, hitting it on the roof of the car.
“Fuck!” he yells in pain. Your eyes pop open, suddenly very awake. You take in the scene over you with a great deal of confusion, as Spencer looms over you, clutching the back of his head. 
“Spencer!” you yelp, “are you alright?” 
“Yeah,” he grunts through gritted teeth, “just superb.” 
“What are you doing?”
“Um,” he winces, pulling his body out of the car. “Buckling you in to take you home.” 
“Oh,” you say. “Did you hit your head? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he whispers, now lying to you and himself. “Let’s get you home, Y/N.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking deck, heading toward your apartment, which happens to not be too far from Spencer’s, a fact he is not proud to be thrilled about. You’re about five minutes down the road when you speak up again. 
“You still don’t have a nickname for me, huh Stats?” you tease. In the dark of the car, Spencer can’t see it, but can hear the smile on your face. He’s also relieved that you can’t see his renewed blush.
“Can’t say I have, Y/N,” Spencer smiles.
“And why’s that, Stats?” You sound like you’re fully enjoying yourself, but he’s still amazed at your ability to tease him without being mean. 
“I don’t know,” he states, surprising himself with his honesty, “nothing seems to suit you.” 
“Oh, really?” you counter. “Let’s see, I used to be called lots of fun and horrible family calls me Y/N/N, which I actually can’t stand, but you knew that one. I got called ‘Four Eyes’ in school when I first got glasses-”
“Same here,” Spencer mumbles. 
“Ah, kids are nothing if not somewhat unoriginal,” you joke. “A mean girl in middle school called me ‘The Grotesque Girl’.”
“Seriously? How...why?” There are many words that run through Spencer’s mind when he sees you and not a singular one involves the word grotesque...or any of its synonyms. He’s rather horrified that you ever had to deal with that.
“Um,” you murmur, your voice slightly quieter now, “I don’t know. I’m not the prettiest of girls, and I most certainly wasn’t back then-”
“Y/N,” Spencer interrupts, trying not to sound as utterly in love as he is, “you’re one of the most beautiful women I know.” For the first time in a long time around you, he feels himself cringing inwardly at his overly honest admission. 
“You have to say that, Stats,” you say, somewhat wistfully, “you’re my friend. Besides it’s alright,” you perk back up, “not all of us can be as gorgeous as you.” 
“Y/N,” Spencer speaks slowly, trying not to reveal too much, even though his resilience is waning fast. “Please understand that when I say you’re one of the most beautiful women I know, I mean you’re actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
“I will brook no arguments,” Spencer insists, attempting to turn the conversation back toward more lighthearted fare. “I’m a genius, remember.”
“Well, fine,” you joke, and Spencer can hear the smile in your voice again. “I suppose if genius thinks I’m beautiful, I must be.” You’re quiet for a moment before speaking again. “You know I call you Stats in, like...a nice way, right?”
“Of course,” Spencer answers quickly.
“Good,” you whisper, partially to yourself. “I just...I know that bullying can be rough and kids call each other names and just...I...”
Spencer pulls into your apartment complex and turns off the car, looking at you as you stare forward, clearly trying to decide what to say. 
“I just so highly respect you,” you whisper. “And I know that you still get teased and you still get... I know that it can be really rough sometimes. And I never want you to think that I’m...making fun of you. I just want you to know that you always have a friend.” 
Spencer feels the tears forming in his eyes and he can’t confidently tell if it’s because of how overwhelmingly genuine your reassurance was, because he’s exhausted, or because you’ve, in the space of about ten minutes called him your friend twice. And he loves being your friend, really, but he has now admitted to himself that he wants to be way more. He covers your hand with his own and squeezes it. You squeeze back and his heart is melting. He sniffles, trying to control himself.  
“Let’s get you to bed, Y/N,” he manages to say. Spencer gets out of the car, grabbing your go bag from the back. 
“Stats,” you say, as you get out of the car, “how are you getting home?”
“Oh, I can walk from here,” he says, vaguely, rather looking forward to the ten or twenty minutes of silence to contemplate how best to work on his aching heart. 
“Would you,” you start, clearly a little unsure of yourself. “Would you maybe want to stay here?” 
Spencer doesn’t trust himself to respond. His brain and body feel as though they’ve separated in this moment. There are so very many thoughts running through his brilliant head and half of them make him blush. In this vast chaos, his body opts to simply stare at you. You look away for a moment, contemplatively, then look back at him. 
“It’s really late,” you continue, “and it’s kind of cold. And, not to be selfish, but it would give me far more peace of mind if I knew you were safe.” 
He looks at you, ever in astonishment at the utterly uncomplicated quality of your kindness. He simply nods, grabbing his go bag as well, and follows you into your apartment. He’s been here before, but this time feels entirely different. More intimate and intense, though he’s fighting at the feelings, trying to quash them with every breath. You easily convince him to share your bed. He’s mildly pleased by the fact that he pretended not to want to for about five seconds longer than he thought he would. As Spencer gets into your bed, you scoot closer to him than he thought you might. Arm to arm, leg to leg, you begin to doze off, which is the only reasoning he can give to the fact that you turn your body in towards his as you fall asleep. He watches you for a moment, allowing himself to prop his head on his arm and unabashedly admire you. 
“Got some facts about sleeping for me, Stats?” you ask, yawning, barely awake.
“Sure,” Spencer whispers, finding it easier to speak to you now that your eyes are closed, “you got enough energy to hear them?”
“I just like hearing you talk,” you admit. Another flutter pokes Spencer’s heart. 
“Alright,” he says, glad you can’t see the heart eyes he’s sure he’s giving you. “Um...humans can survive longer without food than they can without sleep. This discovery is mostly attributed to the 19th century Russian scientist, Marie Mikhaïlovna de Manacééne.” You hum in response and he smiles as he continues, “She conducted one of the earliest experiments on extreme sleep deprivation. She found that when she deprived puppies of sleep, they all died within four or five days, despite every effort to keep them alive, like food and water.” 
“That’s sad,” you breathe, the cutest pout in the world adorning your face. Spencer clears his throat. 
“Hmm, no more dying puppy facts, then,” he jokes, ashamedly proud of the breathily delicate giggle that escapes your lips. “When you sleep, your brain sort of unifies all of your thoughts and skills. So it reorganizes and strengthens when you sleep. That’s why sleep is important.”
“Mm, m’glad you never get a full night’s sleep then,” you hum. “Imagine if your amazing brain got a full night’s strengthening sleep? You’d be unbeatable, Stats.” 
“I think you’ll find I’m pretty unbeatable now, Y/N,” he jokes. You snuggle slightly closer to him, rendering him almost breathless.
“S’not true, Stats,” you tease. “S’why I like to keep you on your toes. S’fun to see you speechless for a second.”
“I’m not speechless right now,” he half-heartedly argues, just happy to have you so close to him. He can hear the slight tremor in his voice and hopes you’re exhausted enough not to pick up on it. 
“'Cause I’m indisposed. Half asleep Y/N isn’t at her full powers of genius incapacitation.” 
“Big words for a sleepy baby,” Spencer breathily laughs. 
“Mmm,” you hum into his arm. “You should call me that more often.”
“What’s that?”
“Baby,” you whisper, your voice fading as you fall further asleep. Spencer can’t breathe. This is too much. It’s so intimate and you’re so warm and beautiful, and you smell so good, and you just told him to call you baby. 
“I can’t call you that, Y/N,” Spencer mumbles, almost hoping you don’t hear. And the universe seems to take pity on him as you’re finally fully asleep. 
He may be a genius, but it always takes Spencer’s brain a second to click on when he wakes up. He’s actually spent an embarrassingly large amount of time thinking about this brief span of time between sleep and full awareness. He wonders if, due to the substantial abilities of his brain, it might take his brain a longer time to catch up to his body when he wakes up. He’s also wondered if it might go faster because of his brain’s capabilities. This thought process briefly cross his mind when he opens his eyes and it takes him a few minutes to fully process where he is. And the fact that you’re still asleep next to him. 
Next to him is a generous term for what you’re really doing. You’re nestled so closely into his side that Spencer’s scared he’ll wake you up if he breathes too deeply. As if aware of his thoughts, you nestle your head impossibly deeper into his chest, and it’s so precious that Spencer’s suddenly worried his now pounding heart might wake you up. He’s just happy he’s got a shirt on. If your head nestled into his bare chest, he feels positive he’d never recover. He returns his head to the pillow, finding that it slots just perfectly above yours. And that’s when the universe decides to turn the intensity up a few notches. 
“Mmm,” you hum into him, a sound that rumbles through Spencer’s chest with a warmth he’s only dreamed about. “Darling.” 
What. The. Fuck. 
Spencer blinks ten times, rapidly, not convinced he’s awake. He allows his eyes to flicker towards you. You’re still asleep. You have to be, you would never-
“Mmm, Spencer,” you keen gently, eyes still closed as your nose proceeds to give his chest an Eskimo kiss. He’s going to have a heart attack. This is it. This is the end. He’s going to have a heart attack and die, right here and right now. He’s equal parts terror and absolute joy as your arms snake out from their spot beneath your head, reaching towards him, one slipping behind his neck, the other finding a home on his chest. It’s then that everything goes south. Spencer assumes that you actually thought you were dreaming and the reality of touching an actual breathing human was so shocking that that’s what actually caused you to wake up. 
Your eyes flutter open, staring at his chest for a moment. You squeeze your eyes tightly, only to open them again a moment later. 
“Good morning,” you rasp, clearly uncomfortable, but still unmoving. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer lies, his voice gravelly with first use. “Why?”
“You’re trembling, Spencer,” you whisper, your hand pressing into his chest with an ever so slight pressure. Oh, that he was fully aware of as he’s trying desperately to control his body’s natural reaction to you, nearly pulling his hips off the bed as he pulls his groin away from you. 
“I’m fine,” he responds, surprisingly evenly for such a tremulous situation. “I need to...go to the bathroom.” He gets up and thinks he manages to mask his...issue, thankful that you have a guest bathroom. Once in there, he slams the door shut and turns on the sink as loudly as possible, allowing himself release...a release for which he feels mildly ashamed, but he eventually cleans himself up and reemerges. 
He’d assumed you’d be in your kitchen, but when he walks in there, you’re nowhere to be found. Spencer sighs deeply, because he knows you better than he knows himself and he knows that, because you’re not in the kitchen, he’ll find you sitting in your room, still in bed wanting to talk. Because he knows you know something’s up with him. 
He adds coffee grounds to the machine and water, turning it on before crossing to your bedroom, to what feels like inevitable doom, at this point. Because he didn’t pull away from you this morning. Because he stared at you until he fell asleep. Because he can’t come up with a simple nickname for you because he wants to call you something altogether more loving than what he’s sure you’ve envisioned. Because he’s in love with you and he’s worried you now know. His steps feel heavy as he walks towards what he’s sure is the inexorable begrudging acceptance he’s managed to avoid for a year. Spencer can feel a lump forming in his throat with the idea that your kindness to him might transform into the mildly resentful behavior of the rest of the team. He’s not sure he could bear even a slightly snide remark from you. It might actually kill him. He enters your room and you look up at him, a bewildered expression on your face.
“Spencer, are you okay?” 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sniffs, trying not to cry. His voice is still thick and heavy. It feels like it’s not in his body, as though the sound is coming from somewhere else. He can only really hear his heart, pounding so loudly he can hardly hear anything else. A warmth encompasses his middle and he looks down to see you, your arms wrapping around him, your head pressing into his chest. He wraps his arms around you as the tears begin to fall. 
“I don’t want you to hate me,” he chokes out, really crying now. 
“Darling, why ever would I hate you?”
“Because...because I ruined it, just like I ruin everything,” he sobs. 
“Sweetheart, you never ruin anything,” you coo, rubbing delicate circles into his back. 
“No, I do,” he cries, clinging onto you tighter. He doesn’t want to. He wants to run away, to go hole up in his apartment to try and get over this, but you don’t let go and he can’t seem to make himself let go either. “I ruin everything because I can’t...I can’t be normal. I can’t stop thinking, can’t stop brain will never slow down and that’s-that’s why I can’t-”
“Shhh,” you breathe, pulling Spencer closer, if possible. His head nestles its way into the crook of your neck, but you don’t pull away. You begin to tangle your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently combing through it. “Darling, you never ruin anything. Oh my goodness, you brilliant genius, you. You make everything better just by being yourself. And I’m so sad that you can’t see it that way. Normalcy is overrated, anyway. And why else would you be so important to the team? So important to me?” you continue to ramble and Spencer continues to cry, the rumble of your voice calming the rougher edges of his anxiety. “Oh, baby, how long have you felt this way?”
“Forever,” Spencer manages to croak. “Until...until I met you. You make make me feel better. Like it might be okay me.” 
“It’s more than okay to be you, darling. It’s absolutely wonderful,” you whisper. It’s at that moment that it hits him, squarely in the heart. He pulls up his head and stares at you. Your eyes are glassy, your lips set a gentle smile. 
“You called called me ‘darling’. Y-you called me ‘sweetheart’. And...and ‘baby’,” Spencer rasps, not letting you go. It’s barely a question, more of a statement because he can’t quite comprehend what’s happening. 
“Yeah,” you let out on a huge sigh. “Is that alright? A bit more intimate that ‘Stats’, seems more appropriate.”
“How-” Spencer falters, not wanting to let himself believe it. “How is it more appropriate?” You stare up at him, a curious look in your eyes as you consider his face. He can’t breathe anymore. 
“Because I love you.”
Spencer is pretty sure his heart explodes. Because he’s staring at you, profiling your every micro expression, every look in your eyes...and you’re telling the truth. A grin tickles its way onto your mouth. 
“Have I done it again, Stats?” But he doesn’t respond. He cups your face in his hands, taking a deep, elated breath before closing his lips over yours. After what feels like an eternity later, he pulls back from you, but doesn’t let you go, pulling you into an impossibly loving embrace.
“I love you,” Spencer whispers. “I love you so, so very much.” He presses a kiss into your shoulder, into your cheek, into your temple, and another on the top of your head. You giggle into him and it’s like he’s floating on air. 
“I’ve loved you for so long, sweetheart. I thought you knew, I thought you didn’t feel the same way-”
“I couldn’t...believe that someone like you could love me. That’s why I couldn’t come up with a nickname for you because all I wanted to call you was-” he cuts himself off, afraid he’s going too far. You run your hands up his chest, cupping his face in your hands and pressing a small kiss to his jaw.
“What did you want to call me, darling?”
“My love,” he says, so tenderly it feels like the air could break it. The sweetest smile he’s ever seen grows on your face. 
“You are the most extraordinary person I know, Stats,” you say, wiping away the residual tears on his cheeks with your thumbs. “I was worried that I wouldn’t be quite enough for you-”
“You’re perfect,” Spencer interrupts. 
“Nobody’s perfect, Spencer-”
“You’re perfect for me, my love,” he corrects. A beautiful blush glows on your face. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. 
“I could easily say the same about you, darling.”
~ “Nobody is perfect until you fall in love with them.” - Unknown ~
4K notes · View notes
spencerseance · 11 months ago
The Real Thing (MGG)
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Request: Hi I know you have lots of requests, but I was wondering if I could request an MGG smut fic where y/n is watching an episode of criminal minds and been turned on even before she met MGG and he gets home early and notices that she’s attracted to Spence and teased her by acting like Spencer, spitting facts and hand movements and she gets embarrassed and it somehow leads to rough very filthy sex.
Request: hii idk if your requests are open or if you still write for mgg but I wanted to make a smut request? the reader could be watching his shows/movies then bring up how __ character was so hot then things escalate and the reader teases him by calling him his character's names while they're doing it and mgg just goes harder and harder until she actually calls him Matthew... 👀
Request: Hey! I LOVEEE your work!! I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is being a brat? Like something where she asks her to do something and she responds with “Make me”, or just a plain and simple no. But he shows her to listen the first time?
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex (unprotected), spanking, spit, lots of teasing (nonsexual) 
Word Count: 4.1K
Time seemed to go by slower when Matthew wasn’t here. I mean, they always say that time flies when you’re having fun, but I guess I never thought about how painfully slow the opposite could be. He was at work, he had been for a week, and I was missing him more than I thought possible.
He usually filmed in California. It was close enough so he could come home that night, even though some days he’d come home after I fell asleep and leave before I was awake. But at least he was there. But now, they were doing a set of episodes that had to be filmed back in Vancouver where they had started. Matthew explained to me why, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. I was a fan of the show long before I even met him, so I guess I was biased in that the only part of the show that I had experienced was the easy part. And my god, Matthew made it look so easy.
It was surreal, falling in love with someone twice. Once, with the idea of them; The character I saw on my TV, a concept of a person that I loved despite never knowing. The second time, falling in love for real; Meeting him and realizing he was a real person, only for things to go a place I never thought possible. Sometimes it felt like I cheated to get where I was. Like I had stuck my foot out in front of his uncoordinated ass and therefore cheated into making him fall for me. One day, I’m in my dorm room in college, watching Criminal Minds on my laptop in the early hours of test days,but now I was watching Criminal Minds on Matthew Gray Gubler's couch. But I tried not to think about it that way, and think about how lucky I was,I was very, very lucky. But today he was gone, and the good thing about that is my old habit of Criminal Minds marathons were able to prevail. He didn’t like watching himself act, he was critical and insecure about it despite the many words of encouragement I threw his way. But I respected it, but I didn’t have to right now. Or any day this week.
The day he left I started back on season 12, and seven days later I was at the end of season 13. The screen faded from black at the start of my tenth episode of the day, and it opened on the closed doors of an elevator. They opened, there he was. His curly hair was long and styled, pushed back from out of his face—which was sporting a scruffy beard that I had begged him to let grow. He was also wearing that fucking FBI jacket. I have many opinions on that jacket, none of them family friendly. He stepped out with his SWAT entourage behind him -- They were Destiny's Child, and he was Beyonce. He looked way too good for his own, and frankly I couldn’t believe the audacity he had to look like that and not be here with me when I saw him.
“Excuse me?” I asked out loud to the TV, diving across the couch to grab the remote and immediately starting the scene over. I watched with my jaw on the floor. I rewound again.
“Fuck me,” I swore under my breath.
“Me or Spencer?” Matthew’s voice echoed arrogantly behind me, scaring me into falling off the couch.
“Ow! Matthew!” I scolded, prioritizing grabbing the remote and pausing it. I stood up and rubbed my now aching ass. “You’re home early.” I observed, my skin getting hot from what he caught me doing. 
I couldn’t help but notice the outfit he was wearing… Dress pants, a dress shirt, and a tie, all black except for the expensive blue cardigan that he wrapped the look up in. He was dressed as Spencer, and I found that way more attractive than I’d care to admit.
“Are you turned on right now?” He asked plainly, his eyes looking me up and down with a stupid cavalier look on his face.
“No!” I defended, taking a step back to try and keep him from seeing the blush in my cheeks. He took a step forward to counteract it. Eventually my eyes met his, and I could feel him peering into them like he was the profiler he played on TV.
“I think you’re turned on right now.” He smirked when I didn’t respond, and moved his hands to my waist. I jumped when I felt the bookshelf digging into my lower back. I didn’t even notice him backing our bodies up against it, but now I was pinned to it like a picture he wanted to hang up.
“Do you like when I ramble like I know what I’m talking about? Or is it the sweater vests? God, they’re so hot.” he teased, running his hands down his Spencer cardigan. I rolled my eyes at him, and he just laughed and let me go, “I’ll be back, I'm gonna change real quick.”
He started to pull away but I found myself grabbing his wrist to keep him from getting far without thinking about it.
“What if…” I cleared my throat and let him go, but he stayed and just watched me curiously. “What if you kept it... on?”
“What?” he looked back down at himself then back up at me with an even more confused expression on his face, “The Reid outfit?”
“I…” My voice trailed off as embarrassment overcame me. The way his face twisted up into an arrogant smile made it even worse, my face burned at the wordless confrontation.
“So Reid does turn you on.” He clarified, even worse hearing it out loud. He moved his hands to grip the lip of the bookshelf on either side of my head.
“I just like the way you carry yourself when you're Reid!” I tried to defend myself but it didn’t seem to work. 
“I carry myself like Chicken Little!” He laughed, “Does Chicken Little do anything for you too?”
“Forget I said anything!” I mumbled, ducking under the arm that he  propped up beside my head and heading to our bedroom with the intentions of ignoring him and going to sleep.
“No! No, I'm sorry!” He called after me as he followed behind me. His hand grabbed my wrist to keep me from getting further, in the same way that mine had before. But his seemed to be purposeful, mine was an accident that I would take back if I could to make this conversation never happen at all. “I just had no idea you felt that way.” 
I broke away from his grasp with a tired sigh. I sat down on the bed. “I don’t know why I ever have sex with you. You don’t deserve it.” 
“Come on!” he sat down next to me, “Just because I’m unbelievably sexy doesn’t mean I don’t deserve it.”
I scoffed a small laugh that I covered up with a pout, “That doesn’t even make sense.” 
“Okay, I’m done! I’m sorry!” He apologized and pulled me into a hug that I didn’t bother trying to break away from. I was tired and this was a stupid thing to be upset about anyway. He smelled good, so I was able to melt into him as easily as ever. He was warm too. God, I missed him so much.
Then he broke the silence, “But do you actually have a thing for sweater vests because I might actually have to invest-“
I cut him off by pushing him off of me and covered my blushing face with my hands. I definitely didn’t miss that.
“Stop it!” I scolded.
“I’m sorry! Baby! I’m done, I promise this time!” He tried to hug me again but I pushed him away, so he decided to push me down and pin me to the mattress. I couldn't stop the giggle that erupted out of me as he started to tickle my sides.
“Matthew!” I said between painful laughs, gasping for breath and trying to escape from him. 
“Did you know that blushing occurs when an emotional trigger causes your glands to release the hormone adrenaline.” He stated randomly, stopping the tickle torture and almost pulling off me entirely. After I managed to settle my scattered breathing, I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. 
“Just stating facts.” He said plainly with a shrug. I narrowed my eyes. “In response to psychological arousal, involuntary dilation in facial capillary beds produces a pronounced coloring in the cheeks.”
“Was that a part of your script today or something?” I tried to sit up but he pushed me back down, returning to his position on top of me with intentions that I could only assume was different from tickle torture.
“No,” he smiled, “Just interesting is all.” He closed the gap between us, connecting our lips in a kiss that let me into his mind to discover his true intentions. It was heavy and already getting hotter, his hands dancing at the sides of my body as his mouth moved against mine. He tasted warm and bitter like coffee, and his lips were soft like I’d never felt soft before. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth and I had no choice but to grant him access. It swiped quickly across my lip before gently tugging at it with his teeth. His hand traveled up my body underneath my shirt, and it cupped my bare breast and forced me to moan against his mouth.
“I see what’s happening here,” I noted with a giggle, bringing my hands up to the nape of his neck, gently combing through the curls that laid there.
“Maybe you’re the real genius after all,” He laughed, flashing me his pretty teeth. I loved his teeth, as weird as it sounds. Maybe it was the Twilight phase I went through in high school, but his sharp canines filled me with the strange fantasies of wanting him to tear out my throat. He seemed to have read my mind, attaching his mouth to my neck, sucking and nipping at it, no doubt planning on painting my body different shades of purple and pink.
“You’re using Spencer to get in my pants.” 
“And it’s working.” He laughed, his hands finding hem of my pyjama shorts and pulling them down my legs.
“Yes it is.” I admitted, forgetting any embarrassment that I had felt.
“I knew it would have.” He stated, pulling my shirt off my body and leaving me completely naked (besides my underwear) while he remained fully dressed. I needed to fix that, but I wasn’t sure how much power I had here. “Sapisosexuality is a fairly common fetish.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” I replied, reaching my hands for his belt, only for him to grab them and pin them above my head with only one hand. Fuck, I loved his hands too. They were big and veiny, and when he dressed them up with his collection of rings, I wanted nothing more than to wear it like a necklace instead. It seemed like I had no power here at all, but that also didn’t seem like such a bad thing.
“If it's not then why are you so wet right now?” He asked, his voice suddenly low and raspy in the way that made my toes curl. He was right, I could feel a pool forming underneath me and soaking through the last piece of fabric separating him from me.
“You don’t know that for sure,” I teased, wiggling my hips, “Why don't you test that theory, Doctor?”
He quickly halted my movements with his freehand, but he still had to swallow, “Fuck, that’s hot.” He grabbed my panties and ripped them off my legs, but I didn't mind. I didn't even bother trying to hide like I usually did. “You wanna play that game, fine. But I always win.”
I just laughed, “Don’t try and quote your show at me, you motormouth.”
“What show?” he asked innocently, falling to his knees.
“Oh, I see.”
“Let me show you a motormouth,” He laughed before grabbing my thighs and yanking me down to meet him at the foot of the bed, attaching his mouth to my pulsing center like he was starving. His hands forced my legs so far apart that it almost hurt, but I couldn’t care less. His tongue licked short strokes against me like he was suddenly unconfident, but the smirk that I could feel against me proved otherwise. His stubble rubbed friction against my sensitive skin, and I praised my past self for asking him to grow it out in the first place. I cried out, feeling his lips wrap around the sensitive pearl at my crest. 
“Fuck, Matthew!” I exhaled harshly. I tangled my hands in the bird's nest that accumulated at the top of his head over the course of the day, but then he pulled off me and scolded.
“I was gonna wait to handcuff you until later, don't make me do it now.”
“You’re really taking this FBI thing seriously, aren't you?” I laughed.
“As if you wouldn't love it. Don’t forget, I can taste just how excited you really are.” He accused, lowering himself back down, but torturing me by leaving two inches of room between us, nothing touching me but the hot breath that escaped his lips. I tried to respond but the only words that slipped out disregarded any sense of clarity, and just sounded like strained, impatient whimpers.
“That's what I thought,” he laughed, his humored breath tickling me and making me squirm, “I knew you’d love it because you’re a dirty fucking slut that loves to be manhandled.” One hand returned to its place on my thigh while the other plunged two of his long fingers into my heat without warning.
“Ahh! Shit, Matthew!” I cried out at the jolts of pleasure he shot through my body. His fingers pumped faster and started to curl inside me, while he wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked harshly at the sensitive nub. I felt my vision going white at the overwhelming stimulation, I was finding it impossible to stay still. He kept going, ravaging me with his hands and mouth alone that I could only imagine what he was preparing to do with what he had in his pants.
I was building up to my release with every movement he made. I was getting closer and closer, white-knuckling my fists as I gripped the bed sheets -- but then he pulled away from my body entirely, and took my release with him. I groaned loudly, sitting up and glaring at him.
“That was uncalled for.”
“You’ll thank me later.” He teased.
“Fuck you.” 
“We’re getting to that. Now watch your mouth and bend over,” He commanded. I ignored him, instead watching those damned hands as he undid his belt and slid it off, holding it in his hand. I looked from the long belt to his eyes. They were already dark and growing evermore angry, but I just wanted to see them on fire.
“Y/n. Now.” He narrowed his eyes at me, and I had to physically bite back the amused smile that threatened to pull up the corners of my mouth.
“Make me,” I finally said. I stayed sitting, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap. He laughed a single, breathy laugh before flipping me over without regard for pain and slammed my body into the bed. His hand harshly pinned my head down like he was trying to absorb me into the mattress. I gasped at the force, but I felt increasingly more satisfied with every second he spent with his hands on me in any way. Even if it was punishment.
“Gladly,” He quipped back, “If you don't wanna come at all today, be my guest. Keep going down that road, but you can't come crying to me, got it? I fucking own you, and you will do as I say.”
“Sure thing... Spencer,” I spat out, still smirking with my face buried in the duvet. My amusement came to a screeching halt as he lifted his hand and struck me with it. I cried out at the harsh sting and jolted underneath him from the shock. His hand grabbed the part of my ass that he had just hit and squeezed hard enough to make me yelp again.
“Wanna try again?” He asked, squeezing harder.
“I’m sorry!” I apologized in between breaths, “I’m sorry, Matthew, I’ll behave!”
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” he sneered before pinning my arms behind my back and fastening them together with the leather of his belt. It was painful yet satisfying in the same way the strike was. But now, I could barely move at all with my wrists tied and my hips pinned down with his hands. I heard his zipper go down and my eyes widened in excited anticipation. “You’re gonna have to learn how to listen the first time.”
He lined himself up against my entrance and slammed into me with one thrust. I cried out at the intrusion, and again at the way his hands grabbed my wrists tightly by their restraints. He gave me no time to adjust to his size before picking up the pace and violently slamming into me, shaking the whole bed and repeatedly knocking its headboard against the wall. I was a mess of cries and moans, and I just knew that he was enjoying it.
I tried to let my head fall down and rest against the cushion, but he just grabbed me by my roots and yanked me back up by my hair.
“Fuck!” I swore.
“You’re so fucking tight. Probably because you’ve been waiting for a fictional character to tear you apart, but trust me sweetheart, the real thing is so much better.” He groaned, his words dripping with hidden degradation and visible frustration. He spat and let it drip onto my ass as he took me from behind, wiping it around with his hand before using it to strike me again in the same place. I yelped at the shock again, but I savored the pulsations it sent to my core.
“You know, I normally wouldn’t let you come after that little stunt you pulled, but I’m feeling nice today. I need to show you just how good you have it, just so you can never fucking forget it.” His voice was a gravely whisper that made my pussy throb around him. He moaned in my ear at the feeling, and I swore that I could have come just like that. But I knew I was on thin ice already and I needed to wait for his approval.
“M-Matthew, pl-ease,” I spat out broken words, separated by the harsh thrusts he pushed into me as he fucked my body into the mattress. 
“Please what, bitch? Haven't I given you enough?” He spat, forcing me to beg.
“Let me come, Sir, I promise I’ll be good.” I finally complied.
“Wait for me, it's the least your needy ass could do.” He groaned, slipping his arm in between my legs to run tight little circles around my clit in an act of spite, trying to make it as hard for me as possible to hold on.
“So close,” He whispered under his breath, I could feel him twitching inside me and I knew I could hold on, but his stimulation was becoming unbearable. He attached his mouth to my neck and sunk in his teeth, apparently not yet satisfied with his work from before. He needed to show me and everyone else who I belonged to, and I was more than happy to oblige.
“Matthew,” I whimpered quietly, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
“Okay, baby, come for me,” He commanded and like he had flipped a switch, he turned me on and I let everything go. I was a mess of strained whimpers underneath him, but then he released a spread of warmth inside me and I felt more satisfied than anything else. I felt the way he pulsed inside me, and hearing the tired moans in my ears made me feel like I had won. 
With a couple seconds of labored breathing, he slipped slowly out of me and undid all the restraints. I stretched out my hands as far as they could go to get blood back into them with a tired laugh. He disappeared into the bathroom, and he returned with a wet rag and aloe vera lotion.
Silently, he wiped away all the remnants of himself that were now sticky and dripping down my legs. Then he soothed over the welts on my ass and my wrists, once again the gentle boy that I’ve always known him to be. His touch was soft but almost remorseful, almost as if he felt bad for touching me in the way he did. But I didn’t regret a thing.
“Do you think it's weird?” I finally asked, quietly, as he massaged my aching skin. He looked up at me curious and confused, his eyes squinting in the same way he did in the show.
“What?” He asked.
“The fact that I like Spencer so much.” I clarified shyly. 
A small smile reappeared on his face, before he looked down again at my wrists as he worked.
“It’s not weird… I mean, you knew him before you knew me.” He said softly. I swallowed, but he was right. “I think that you should like my characters… because that just means that you like me.” He looked back up at me and I felt tears start to prick the corners of my eyes for reasons I couldn't explain, other than the wave of tiredness that suddenly washed over me.
“Really?” Was all I asked.
“Yeah,” He smiled, getting up and grabbing some of his clothes and throwing them at me. It was a big T-shirt and a pair of boxers, still warm from the load of laundry I did earlier today. “Except for Simon, that's weird.”
“Shut up.” I laughed, sliding the clothes on my naked body and feeling immediate comfort from them, it felt like he was hugging me through them because despite the wash, it still smelled like him. His clothes were enough when he was gone, but he wasn’t gone anymore and I wanted to hug the real thing.
He changed too, out of his Spencer outfit and into his much more fitting Matthew pajamas. Christmas pants even though it was July, a dinosaur shirt and  mismatched socks. I smiled looking at him.
“Lets go to bed,” He suggested, helping me up from my uncomfortable position and onto wobbly legs. He let out a childish giggle as I trembled and fell onto his chest, I playfully lightly hit him in the chest. He helped me into bed, before sliding in on the other side and pulling me into his chest like he had been missing me there for every second I spent somewhere else. 
“You know… I totally wouldn’t have let you come if I hadn’t been gone for so long.” He said, his words muffled because he spoke against the pillow. His words held remorse, but it was hidden layer a layer of humor. I wanted to push back and open him up more, but I was exhausted and I knew he was too. That was a heavy conversation to have, but I figured it could wait until morning.
“Oh, so it was a pity come?” I joked back, he just laughed in response. “I just think you don't have it in you, to be honest.” I teased, immediately grinning at the annoyed expression that immediately fell onto his face.
“Are you kidding? Try that again tomorrow, see what happens.” He tested, but I just grinned happily and booped him on the nose before cuddling back into his chest. His arms instinctively snaked around me in the way territorial vines would around the thick trunk of a tree. I missed him more than anything.
“Whatever you say… Doctor.”
@imsuperawkward​ @peachesnchalamet​ @reidlusts​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @im-inlovewith-mycar @chaoticsteverogers @that-salty-h0e​ @httpnxtt​ @vellichor01​ @la-vie-en-amour1 @sana-li @britishspidey @eternityofaxiom​ @101donuts @eideticprettyboyspencer @quillanpie @tiktokslut @capsassx3000 @krazykatkay456 @gia-kerks @l0ve-0f-my-life @patricks-fabulous-face @mylovehes @reidetic @pinkdiamond1016 @shxdowofdarkness @lokisgoddesofpower @andiebeaword @margotswhore @daviddoughboy @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @peculiarinsomniac @winchestergirl907 @yomama-umbridge @prettyboy-reid @smalluniversecollector @emilouu @wattpad-reads @ogmilkis
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criminalmindzjunkie · 9 months ago
In Case You Hadn’t Noticed
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Summary: In which Spencer is in love, and the reader is oblivious. 
A/N: This is probably the fluffiest smut of all time, so be warned. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem! Reader
Warnings: some angst, smut, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, swearing
Word Count: 7.9k because apparently I am the most long-winded bitch in the universe.
           I had only been sat at my desk for about five minutes when a coffee cup was placed in front of me, causing a pleased smile to stretch across my lips. Today was supposed to be a fairly uneventful one, as Hotch had declared it to be a day to catch up on paperwork. I was more than glad for the reprieve. The team had taken part in two different cases the previous week, and from the way my teammates slowly trickled in with tired eyes and their own cups of coffee, I could tell I wasn’t the only one that had been affected.
           I eagerly reached for the coffee, taking a swig of its contents and humming contentedly. I closed my eyes, relishing in the way that the warm liquid chased away the chill in my bones. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who my benefactor was; it was always Spencer. It had become sort of a thing between the two of us not long after I started at the BAU two years prior. The two of us were arguably the most coffee dependent individuals on the team, a fact that everyone seemed to catch onto relatively quickly.
           After one particularly hellacious day where I had attempted to detox myself from all forms of caffeine, I arrived at work the next day to find a large to-go cup of coffee on my desk. I didn’t have to look far to find the culprit; Spencer’s desk was adjacent to mine and he was looking my way, all too eager to take credit.
           “Caffeine is a stimulant to the central nervous system, and regular use of caffeine does cause mild physical dependence. But caffeine doesn't threaten your physical, social, or economic health the way addictive drugs do, so there’s really no need to cut yourself off completely,” he had said, the excitement in his voice only growing when he saw that he had my complete attention. “If you stop taking caffeine abruptly, you may have symptoms for a day or more, especially if you consume two or more cups of coffee a day. Symptoms of withdrawal from caffeine include headache, fatigue, anxiety, depressed mood, difficultly concentrating, and, uh… irritability.”
           I had taken a seat at this point, sipping the coffee and raising an eyebrow at him.
           “Is this your polite way of saying I’m too crabby without caffeine to justify making the lifestyle change?” I teased. Spencer had tried and ultimately failed at concealing the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.
           I chuckled at that, flashing Spencer an appreciative smile.
           “I’m thinking you may be right. Thank you, Spence. You’re officially my favorite now,” I announced, relishing in the way a pink tint had spread across the apples of his cheeks. “But now I owe you. Don’t bother stopping for a cup on your way to work tomorrow. I’ll bring you one.”
           “Y-You don’t have to, if it’s a bother. I was just thinking about you this morning, I mean, uh, I was thinking about your h-health, and I figured you could use it. To stay concentrated on the case, of course,” he rambled, wincing as he stumbled over his words on more than one occasion.
           “Nonsense. You’re not a bother, and I want to do it. It can be our thing,” I breezed, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the desk. Spencer seemed perplexed at my proposition, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Before he could ask, I decided to elaborate. “You know, like a trademark of our friendship. A lot of friends have secret handshakes, or something of that nature, but seeing as you don’t like shaking hands and I have a crippling caffeine dependency, a coffee exchange seems like a perfectly acceptable thing to do.”
           Spencer nodded to himself, no doubt cataloging the information away in the vast recesses of his brain. His brain held an astonishing amount of information on nearly any topic you could imagine, but the ins and outs of friendships, relationships, and social cues had seemed to evade him. Spencer was a little awkward, sure, but I found his lack of social skills endlessly endearing. Pair that with the fact that he was the only other younger member of the team and he was obvious choice for being my work best friend.
           “Okay, I’m in,” Spencer said, tucking a few stray hairs behind his ear and leaning forward as well. His enthusiasm was palpable, making me think that it wasn’t often that people took interest in being his friend, which was a damn shame, in my opinion.
           “Now that we’ve established that this is happening, I have one question for you, Spencer Reid,” I whispered, creating an air of secrecy. Spencer immediately responded, his voice lowering to match my cadence.
           “And that is?”
           I smiled at him, a giddy feeling encompassing me. The prospect of striking up a friendship with Spencer was enticing, and from the way he was smiling back at me, I could tell that he thought so, too. I couldn’t help but think that this was the start of something beautiful.
           “How do you take your coffee?”
            “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re a godsend,” I sighed, drawing a laugh from him.
           “I figured you might need it. You guys were gone for a week straight,” came a voice that was definitely not Spencer Reid. My eyes snapped open and I was greeted by the sight of dark brown hair and icy blue eyes that belonged to none other than Noah King.
Noah worked on a different floor in the building as a forensic accountant. I was fairly familiar with him, having exchanged pleasantries on more than one occasion. Noah was a nice guy; intelligent, kind and more than a little bit funny. He was your typical tall, dark, and handsome. I wasn’t really the type to date, but I hadn’t failed to notice that Noah was very attractive. Elle and JJ certainly liked to point it out, and it wasn’t like I was blind.
           All of that being said, I was more than a little bit confused as to why he was standing at my desk at 7:45 in the morning.
           “Uh, yeah, it’s been a bit hectic here lately. You know how it is,” I murmured as my eyes scanned over him, searching for any clue as to why he was here. Does he want something? What kind of help could I offer to a forensic accountant? I barely scraped by in Algebra II.
           “I’m afraid that I cannot relate, because I probably have the most boring job of anyone in the FBI, but I can imagine,” Noah chuckled, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his dress slacks. I couldn’t stop myself from profiling him as I took note of the way he was rocking back and forth on his heels and chewing at his bottom lip. Even if I hadn’t had the expertise in reading people, it wouldn’t have been hard to denote that he was full of nerves.
           “Hey, math can be cool,” I argued. “Plus, I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten shot at because of math, so your job is definitely more appealing. On the other hand, math makes me want to shoot myself, so the fact that you made a career of it is a testament to your patience.”
           I cringed internally. Spencer wasn’t the only one who could ramble, apparently. Perhaps he had rubbed off on me.
           Noah let out a loud laugh, and by my observation it seemed genuine. Maybe my jokes aren’t that terrible.
           “Funny and pretty. A deadly combination,” Noah said, flashing me a shy smile. I could feel my face heat up and I let out a strained laugh.
           “I’m glad you think so. Elle always tells me my jokes are terrible.” It was a poor attempt at avoiding the compliment, but I wasn’t sure what else to do. It had been an embarrassingly long time since I dated anyone, let alone attempted to flirt with someone. The job had consumed my every thought for the last two years, and when I actually did get free time it was usually spent sleeping or traipsing through book stores or thrift shops with Spencer. That didn’t exactly leave much time for dating.
           “So, you’re a bit of a jokester, then?” Noah mused, leaning against my desk and crossing his arms.
           “I try to be. Laughter is the best medicine, and all that.”
           “I’d love to hear more of these jokes of yours. Maybe over dinner sometime?” Noah said, his words tentative. I was immensely thankful that I hadn’t been taking a drink of my coffee at the time, because I surely would’ve choked on it. Am I hearing this correctly?
           “You want to go on a date?” I asked, my voice incredulous. “With me?”
           Noah nodded enthusiastically.
           “Yeah, I really do. I’ve wanted to for a while now, but I kind of thought you had a thing going on with Reid, so I backed off,” he explained, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I may or may not have asked Garcia about you.”
           “Me and Reid? What gave you that idea?” I blurted out, laughing at the absurdity of it. Spencer and I were close, yeah, but no more than anyone would be with a friend. It was almost as if Spencer was an extension of my own mind at this point, albeit a more intelligent version. We shared a lot of common interests, much to the surprise of the both of us.
           “The both of you are together all the time, and he’s always walking you to your car at the end of the day, so I assumed there was something there.”
           Is that not typical friendship behavior? There isn’t anything inherently romantic about walking someone to their car. Spencer was just watching out for my safety. Given our occupation, it wasn’t exactly unreasonable. He was just a caring guy. I’m sure he would do the same for anyone on the team.
           “We’re just good friends, is all. Nothing going on,” I said, shaking my head at the thought. Noah breathed a sigh of relief before raising his eyes to meet mine.
           “So, uh, what do you say to dinner then? I was thinking we could go to this new Thai place that just opened up near my apartment. Unless you don’t like Thai food, in that case we could do something else. Anything you want.” Noah had removed his hands from his pockets and was now fidgeting with them.
           I paused for a minute, contemplating the offer. There wasn’t any reason I could think of to turn him down. Noah was FBI, too, meaning that he would be more apt to understand my tumultuous schedule. He was kind and cute and most importantly he actually laughed at my jokes. Noah seemed to tick all the boxes, but for some reason I found myself hesitating. It had been so long since I had done this that the whole idea was daunting.
           Noah was visibly growing more anxious the longer it took me to answer, so I decided to bite the bullet and go for it. What could it hurt?
           “I’d love to go on a date with you,” I said, smiling up at him. His posture became visibly more relaxed, and he let out a sigh of relief.
           “Thank God. I wasn’t looking forward to getting rejected first thing in the morning. Would kind of set a piss-poor mood for the day,” he chuckled.
           “How could I say no? You already know the way to my heart,” I said, holding up the cup of coffee in example.
           “I was hoping that might work,” Noah murmured as he dug into the depth of his pockets, producing a business card and handing it to me. “I know it’s kind of hard for you to set plans when you don’t know when a case will come in. When you get some free time, call me.”
           I took the card and examined it, running my thumb over its shiny surface.
           “Yeah, of course,” I said, placing the card on my desk. Noah stood and ran a hand through his hair. I tried to ignore the fact that he looked damn good doing it, but at the end of the day I was still a red-blooded female who hadn’t been laid in so long it was honestly pathetic. Sue me. “Oh, and thanks for the coffee, Noah.”
           “Anytime. I look forward to hearing more of those jokes of yours,” he teased, shooting me a wave before heading towards the door.
           I watched him leave, my mind a befuddled mess. When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t see myself procuring a date with anyone. If anyone had told me this was how my day would start, I would’ve laughed in their face.
           “So, are you gonna break the news to the kid, or am I?”
           I whirled around in my chair at the sound of Derek’s voice. He sat at his desk across the room, looking at me with an amused expression.            
           “What do you mean?”
           “It’s gonna break his heart, you know,” he continued, shaking his head at me. What in the fuck is he on about?
           “What in the fuck are you on about?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. What is with everyone this morning?
           “Don’t act like you don’t see it, Y/N,” Derek chuckled. “You’re a profiler for Christ’s sake. Not that you’d need to be - he’s so obvious about it sometimes that it’s actually painful to watch.”
           “Well, if it’s so obvious, then why don’t I know what you’re talking about?” I asked, irritation clear in my voice. It was entirely too early for Derek to be throwing around vague inferences.
           “I’m talking about how you’ve got Reid wrapped around your finger,” Derek said, a sly smile on his lips. “He’s so far gone; I don’t know how you don’t see it.”
           I frowned, taking my lip in between my teeth. I knew Spencer better than almost anyone, but I’d never had an inkling that he felt anything other than platonic feelings towards me. Surely, Derek and Noah were making a mountain out of a mole hill.
           “Probably because there’s nothing to see. We’re just friends. Kind of like you and Garcia.”
           “Don’t even try to compare the two. Yes, I love Garcia and she loves me, but you don’t see either of us having sleepovers and bringing each other coffee every morning.”
           Okay, so maybe the sleepovers were a bit unconventional, but no one would question it if I had a sleepover with Penelope or JJ, so how was that any different?
           “You’re seeing things that aren’t there, Morgan,” I sighed dismissively. “Quit trying to play matchmaker.”
           “Humor me, then. Just pay close attention to how he is around you for a few days. If you don’t see it by the end of the week, I’ll drop it,” Derek proposed.
           “Fine. But promise me you won’t bother Spencer about this.”
           “Bother me about what?” Spencer asked as he swept into the room, his curls bouncing with every stride. In his hands were the usual two cups of coffee.
           Derek began to open his mouth, but I was quick to cut him off.
           “About being late. It’s 8:02,” I reprimanded. Spencer shrugged.
           “The line was long.”
           Spencer arrived at my desk and I was instantly enveloped by the scent of his cologne; a pleasant mix of something woodsy with a hint of cinnamon. He moved to placed the cup on my desk before halting completely when he noticed the one that was already there.
           “You got coffee already?” His words dripped with confusion and he turned to me, his eyes full of something I couldn’t quite decipher.
           “Actually, Noah King got her coffee,” came the sing-song voice of one Penelope Garcia as she entered the bullpen with a flash of hot pink and clacking heels.
           Spencer’s face twisted up into an awful kind of expression.
           “Why would he do that?”
           “I’m assuming it was so he could ask her on a date,” Penelope explained excitedly. She took a seat on the edge of Derek’s desk, facing me. “He came by my office while you lot were gone, asking all sorts of questions about you.”
           I forced myself to look away from Spencer, my eyes drifting over to Penelope.
           “And you didn’t think to tell me about that?” I asked, my voice coming out in a slightly higher pitch than usual. Penelope just shrugged.
           “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” she offered in explanation. “So, did he ask you out, or what?”
           I was still painfully aware of how Spencer’s eyes were burning a hole in the side of my head, no matter how hard I was trying to ignore it. I didn’t think me getting coffee from someone else would be this big of a deal to him, but then again, in the two years I’d been working here, I’d never not held up my end of the bargain.
           “Yeah, he did,” I murmured, uncomfortable under the watchful eyes of my teammates.
           JJ and Elle entered the bullpen then and I groaned internally. My audience had grown far too big for my liking.
           “What are we all gathered around for?” Elle asked as she placed her things at her desk.
           “Y/N got asked on a date by Mr. Hottie Forensic Accountant,” Penelope announced.
           Why hasn’t Spencer said anything yet?
           “No fucking way,” Elle laughed, her eyebrows raised. “What’d you say?”
           “We, uh, didn’t set a date for it but I said I’d go.”
           Two things then happened at the same time; JJ and Penelope squealed out in excitement, and Spencer dropped both coffee cups, spilling their contents all over the floor.
           I yelped as the hot coffee splashed my legs, jumping out of my seat and reaching for a roll of paper towels.
           “Jesus, shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer apologized, taking the roll from me and busying himself with cleaning up the spillage, all the while refusing to so much as look at me. A terrible feeling began to settle in my gut.
           “It’s okay, Spence. Here, let me help,” I offered as I knelt down.
           “Hotch is gonna kill you when he sees that big ass stain,” Derek teased, watching on in amusement as he made absolutely no move to help us. I rolled my eyes.
           “Nothing a little elbow grease can’t fix,” I assured Spencer. His eyes momentarily flicked up to meet mine and I blanched at the sight. His beautiful brown eyes were so full of betrayal and disappointment and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Spencer gave me a tight-lipped smile before looking away.
The two of us continued to clean the mess before tossing the sopping wet paper towels in the bin. I turned around to face Spencer, who was already looking at me. His face was entirely expressionless now, all traces of emotion wiped away.
           “I guess it’s a good thing you already had your coffee, then.”
           The bitterness in his voice made me think that Derek maybe wasn’t so far off, after all.
           To say that things had been tense since yesterday morning would be the understatement of the century. Spencer had spent the entire day avoiding me like the plague, even going as far as to leave early to avoid walking me to my car. Every time I tried to speak to him, inevitably leading to him brushing me off, I couldn’t help but replay mine and Derek’s conversation in my head. Was it actually possible that Spencer had feelings for me that went beyond the friendship level? It seemed impossible; Spencer was never one to express romantic interest in anyone. He was always so focused on giving his all to the job or expanding his knowledge on whatever tickled his fancy at the time. When he wasn’t doing those things, well… it seemed that he spent the rest of his time in my apartment, entertaining me with his musings and watching my TV.
           Okay, so maybe it wasn’t impossible.
           After a night full of tossing and turning in bed, I came to a conclusion. Regardless of if Derek was right about Spencer’s feelings, I had clearly done something to upset him, and the two of us needed to talk.
           I practically ran into the bullpen the next morning, filled with a newfound determination as I balanced two cups of coffee in my hands. I figured a little liquid bribery would certainly help sweeten the pot.
           When Spencer had failed to show up almost fifteen minutes later, a sinking feeling settled into my gut. I pushed myself out of my chair and marched right up to JJ’s office.
           “Hey, JJ? Where’s Spence?” I asked as I peeked my head through the crack of the door. JJ looks up at me, mouth pulled into a frown.
           “He called in sick about an hour ago. Said he felt like he’d come down with something.”
           I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. Of course, he called in. Stubborn little shit.
           “That’s really too bad. I think I might go check on him, just to see if he’s okay. Will you pass the word on to Hotch?” I ask her, words dripping with faux concern. I knew damn well that Spencer wasn’t sick, and I was more than a little pissed that he was going this far just to avoid me.
           JJ nods at me and I call out a quick goodbye before walking briskly across the bullpen, only stopping long enough to scoop up my messenger bag.
           Nice try, Spencer.
           When Spencer opens up the door to his apartment, his eyes are wide as dinner plates and his mouth is hanging open.
           “Uh, w-what are you doing here?” he stutters out, knuckles clenching onto the side of the door so hard they’ve turned white. He’s dressed in baggy plaid pajama pants and a loose t-shirt, paired with the usual adorably mismatched socks. A pair of glasses are perched atop his nose and he absentmindedly pushes them further up. He looks incredibly cozy, and on any normal day, I’d coo at the sight.
           But not today. Today, I was mad.
           “JJ said you called in sick. I didn’t take you for a liar, Dr. Reid,” I tut. Spencer opens his mouth to argue, but I’m quick to cut him off. “Are you going to invite me in, or are we going to have the conversation in the hallway?”
           Spencer’s shoulders slump and he relents, stepping back and gesturing for me to follow him inside. He slinks dejectedly to the couch, plopping down hard amongst the cushions. I remove my jacket, placing it on the back of one of his chairs before joining him on the couch.
           Spencer’s eyes are everywhere but on me and he fiddles nervously with his hands in his lap. It’s abundantly clear that I’m going to have to get the ball rolling here, so I breathe in a shaky breath.
           “You’re angry with me.” I don’t phrase it like a question, because it isn’t one. Spencer shakes his head, still refusing to look up from his lap.
           “M’not mad at you. I don’t think I could be mad at you if I tried,” he murmurs. I shift my body so that I’m looking directly at him. 
           “Then why have you been avoiding me? I must’ve done something to make you upset.”
           When Spencer makes no move to answer me, I place a hand on his, effectively halting his movements. His breath hitches and his eyes snap up to mine. Spencer’s tongue darts out, running across his lower lip nervously. That’s the thing about Spencer Reid; he had this way about him that always tugged at my heart strings. He gave off this doe-eyed innocent vibe that had always fascinated me, though I couldn’t put my finger on why. Something in the way that he was looking at me then, completely open and so painfully nervous – ignites something deep within me and can’t suppress the smile that tugs at the corner of my lips. You know why you liked it so much, the voice inside my head teases. And you also know that Derek was right.
           Heaven help me if I’m wrong, I think to myself, and then I take the plunge.
           “I think we should talk about how you reacted when Garcia mentioned Noah asking me on a date.”
           It was impossible to miss the way his lips downturned at the mention of Noah’s name. Spencer Reid was a lot of things, but a good liar wasn’t one of them.
           “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispered.
           “So, you weren’t at all jealous?” I asked, scooting closer to him. “You didn’t mind the fact that he asked me out?” I begin tracing my thumb up and down on his hand, relishing in the way that he gulps.            “Why would I?” he squeaked out, his voice betraying his attempt at being coy.
           “Because both Noah and Derek seem to think you’re interested in me. I told them both that they were crazy to even suggest it; that we were only friends and you’d never look at me in that way. But you know what I think now?”            “W-What?”
           I lifted my hand to his chin, forcing him to meet my eyes.
           “I think you do like me,” I stated, letting my eyes drift to his lips. Spencer’s breathing was coming out in haggard puffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes darted from my eyes and my lips. For someone who didn’t want to look at me earlier, he sure wasn’t having a problem now.
“I think you’ve liked me for a long time. And I think you didn’t like the idea of me going on a date with Noah, because you’d much rather me go on one with you.” I traced my fingers along his jawline, causing Spencer to shiver under my touch. “Am I right, Spencer?”
           “Y-Yes,” he choked out. His pupils were blown wide and his face was growing more and more flushed with every passing second. Spencer was so pretty like this; hair in complete disarray, lips parted slightly, damn near panting after receiving the smallest of touches.
           Spencer had always had an innocence about him, as much as he liked to try and deny it. He didn’t have to tell me that he was a virgin; it was apparent in the way his face turned beet red anytime sex was brought into the conversation. It was even more apparent now that I had him squirming underneath my touch, desperate and whiny for more.
           The way he looked now, completely pliant and at my mercy, I couldn’t help but to want to completely wreck that innocence.
           “You know what else I think?”
           Spencer shook his head, his wide eyes never leaving my own. I gave him the sweetest of smiles, gently raking my nails down the side of his neck.
           “I think you want to fuck me.” My hands drift to the hair at the back of his neck and I tug, causing Spencer let out a deep groan.
           “Please, God, yes. Want it so bad, you have no idea,” Spencer babbles, his voice thick with desire. I lifted an eyebrow in surprise. I’d expected as much, but what I hadn’t been prepared for was how quick he was to admit it. I also hadn’t been anticipating him to melt into trembling mess under me so quickly, but here we are. I move my hand until it rests on his lap, inches away from the growing desire in his pants.
           “So, how long have you been holding out on me?” I asked, absentmindedly running my hand over his bulge. Spencer let out a low whine before bucking up into my touch. I chuckled lowly as I removed my hand completely, much to his chagrin. “Not so fast, Doctor Reid. You haven’t answered my question.”
           “A-A while,” he squeaked out. “P-Pretty much the w-whole time.”
           “The whole time? You mean to tell me you wasted two whole years pining for me, when you could’ve been fucking me instead?” I shook my head at him, leaning forward and brushing my thumb across his bottom lip.
           “I-Is this really happening?” he asked, disbelief coating his words. “Am I dreaming?”
           “It really is, no thanks to you,” I hummed. “If I left it up to you, we wouldn’t be here. You were just going to deprive us both of this, weren’t you?”
           “I-I didn’t think,” Spencer stutters out before letting out a low moan when I place a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “I didn’t t-think you’d w-want me back. You’re so p-pretty and y-you could have anyone. I’m s-sorry.”
           His words shot straight to my heart and it lurched pitifully – but I wasn’t ready to let him off that easily.
           “Are you? I don’t know if I accept your apology, Dr. Reid,” I tease, nipping playfully at his skin. “Perhaps I should make you prove it to me.”
           Spencer is a complete mess under me, wanton moans rolling from his lips as he circles his hips in a desperate search for friction.
           “Y-Yes, please, I’ll do anything,” he pants out, causing me to laugh against the exposed skin of his neck. I pull back, my face inches from his as my eyes scan his face. Spencer looks up at me from half-lidded eyes, his breath hitting my face in tiny puffs.
           “Those are dangerous words, Doctor. Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop right now and pretend this never happened. I won’t be mad, I promise,” I murmur, my hand coming up to cup the side of his face. Spencer leans into my touch, nuzzling his face against my palm.
           “I want this,” he whispers, and for the first time in a while, his voice is steady. “I just…,” Spencer trails off and a lovely blush dusts across the apples of his cheeks. “I’ve never done this. Any of it. I don’t want it to be bad for you.”
           My heart swelled painfully in my chest. What a sweet, nervous boy.
           “Spencer, this could never be bad for me because it’s you,” I reassure him. “Do you trust me?”
           His answer is instantaneous. “More than anyone.”
           I nod to myself. Okay, we’re really doing this.
           “Good. Normally, I’m more of a take the reins kind of girl, but since this is your first time, I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable. I’m not going to do a single thing that you don’t ask for, okay? I need you to talk to me, Spence. Communication is important. Can you do that for me?”
           Spencer nods, before smiling sheepishly. “Y-Yes. I can do that,” he corrects himself. I can tell he wants to say something else from the way his brows scrunch together like he’s thinking.
           “Use your words, baby. What do you want me to do?”
           “C-Can I kiss you now? Please?” he asks shyly.
I smile and nod, and Spencer rockets forward so fast that he nearly knocks me back with the force of it. His hands are on either side of my face and his lips are on mine, soft and frenzied as they move against my own. When I get over the initial shock of it, I reciprocate, lips moving against his with equal enthusiasm. This kiss is a bit sloppy at first, the kind of sloppy that is to be expected when someone hasn’t much experience, but the longer it goes on, the more comfortable Spencer seems to get. His movements become more calculated, lips coming down on mine with more precision.
After several minutes I decide to up raise the tempo by running my tongue lightly against his lower lip, earning a delighted groan from Spencer as he opens up for me. Just as I expected, his tongue is just as eager as he is, dancing with mine deliciously. One look at Spencer Reid’s lips was all it took for me to decide that he had to be a fantastic kisser, but the real thing was so much better than I’d ever dreamed.
I break away from the kiss and Spencer whines. He’s looking down at me with lust filled eyes and his lips are bruised from our kiss, puffy and pink and oh so pretty - so pretty that I lean forward and place another kiss to them just because I can.
“Lean back, baby. Gonna sit in your lap now. Is that okay?”
Spencer nods fervently, shuffling backwards and looking over at me expectantly. It’s with a light laugh that I move to straddle him, relishing in the way that he groans when our clothed centers touch. His hands twitch at his sides but he doesn’t move them. Instead he looks up at me, eyes wide and pupils blown.
“C-Can I touch you?”
“You can do anything you want, sweet boy,” I murmur against his lips before closing the space between us. Spencer’s nothing if not responsive – the way he moans into the kiss paired with the speed in which his brings his hands up to my hips makes my head spin. One hand stays on my hip and the other tentatively raises to my breast. He pauses in a silent question, and I roll my hips against his as my answer. Spencer gasps against my lips and his hand clamps down on my breast, kneading it carefully, experimentally.
I let out an appreciative hum before pulling away long enough to remove my top and toss is aside. Spencer’s eyes run over my frame as he unabashedly checks me out, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t flattering.
“Like what you see, Doc?”
“You have no idea,” he sighs out, before adding, “Can I take off your bra?”
Gone is the shy boy that wouldn’t even make eye contact with me ten minutes ago.
The smile on my face only grows as I nod. Spencer gets to work on the clasp at my back, tongue sticking slightly out of his mouth as he concentrates. After several failed attempts and more than a few whispered curses, the clasp give way and I let my bra straps fall from my shoulders, exposing my chest to him.
Spencer looks very much like a kid in a candy store as he takes in the sight. I open my mouth to remind him he can touch when he leans forward at the same time his hand presses against my back, arching it until his lips come in contact with my nipple. He wraps his lips around it, tongue darting out to flick against the bud.
I let out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut at the contact. I feel Spencer smile against me as he raises his hand to my other breast, taking it into his hand and rolling my nipple between his fingers. His mouth moves against me, alternating between flicks of his tongue and taking me in between his teeth, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve sworn he’d done this a million times before. His ministrations send shocks of white-hot pleasure straight to my core and I absentmindedly begin to rock my hips against his in search for more friction. Spencer switches to my other breast, spending ample time teasing it with his mouth before he’s breaking away with a loud groan.
“F-fuck, that feels so good,” he whimpers, sounding every bit as wrecked as he looks, brows drawn together and mouth hanging open as he focuses on the way I’m rocking against him. He looks beautiful like this, thoroughly fucked out despite the fact that I hadn’t even taken his clothes off yet. Which, now that I’m thinking about it, needs to happen now.
“Why don’t we get you out of those clothes? Wanna see you, Spence – want to see my pretty boy.”
I dismount from his lap and slip my jeans from my body as Spencer removes his shirt and pants, both of us now in equal states of undress, clad only in our underwear. Spencer reaches his hands out, a dazed smile on his lips as he looks up at me.
I’m quick straddle him again and he pulls me in for a long, passionate kiss that steals the breath from my lungs. Spencer was beginning to feel more comfortable - I could feel it in the way that his lips dragged against mine without reluctance. The thought made my chest feel warm and I sighed contentedly into the kiss.
Spencer pulls away first this time. “Can I… touch you there?” Spencer asks me, shy and hesitant.
“Like I said before, you can touch me anywhere you want,” I remind him, but honestly, I’m finding it a bit hard to control my own breathing at the moment. I still haven’t wrapped my head around the fact that I’m here, on Spencer Reid’s couch, almost fully naked and dripping with arousal. Not that I was complaining – at all.
“I-I know but,” Spencer pauses to run his hands down my sides, gulping hard when he sees me shiver. “I can’t believe this is happening - that you’re here and you’re saying yes. I’ve thought about this so many times, about what you’d look like and how you’d feel and what you’d say – but nothing came close to this. To really having you here. And I just… I just want to make sure that you’re okay with this. That you won’t regret it.”
That you won’t regret me.
He doesn’t say it, but it’s implied by the way his head hangs low and his voice barely comes out louder than a whisper. I find myself frowning at the implication. How could this beautiful boy ever think that he could be something that I would regret?
“Spence, I can tell you right now that I’ll never regret this,” I murmur, and he raises his eyes up to mine. I see a plethora of emotions swimming in those beautiful brown eyes of his; lust, desperation, nervousness, worry.
“But what if it’s not good for you?”
I let the hand that’s resting on his shoulder drop and I wrap my hand around his, leading him to my dripping heat. Spencer lets out a sharp gasp when his hand comes in contact with the fabric, saturated with my arousal.
“Y-you’re so wet,” Spencer stutters out, disbelieving, as his hand cups my sex. His eyes never leave me as I grind down against his palm, letting out a sigh of pleasure when it brushes up against my clit.
“Still worried that I’m not enjoying myself?”
Spencer lets out an almost imperceptible shake of his head, gaze still zeroed in on where I’m rubbing myself against him. I take his silence as an opportunity to latch my lips to the side of his neck, leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses against his skin.
“How do you want me, Doctor?” I murmur against his ear, nipping lightly on his earlobe. Spencer moans loud, deep and guttural.
“I-I get to choose?” Spencer chokes out. I can’t suppress the chuckle that leaves my throat. How can he be so damn endearing without even trying?
“I told you, this is all on your terms, baby. You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Spencer lets out a shaky breath.
“Ride me,” he begs, before tacking on a, “Please? I’ve thought about it so many times, but that’s not the same and I just want to see it-” His words are almost hysteric, coming out rapid and so, so wrecked. I cut him off with a kiss before I clamber off of him and slip my panties down my legs.
“As you wish, Doctor,” I tease, tapping lightly on his hip, signaling him to lift up his hips so that I can rid him of his underwear. He obliges, only somewhat reluctant, and I pull his boxers off, eyes widening at the sight before me.
When I fail to speak, Spencer takes my silence as a bad thing and begins spluttering out apologies.
“I-I’m sorry, I know it’s not that big. I understand if you don’t want to keep going-”
He only stops his rambling when I let out a disbelieving laugh. Spencer flinches at the sound, hands rocketing down to cover himself and I realize that laughing when a man shows you his penis is never the way to go.
“Oh, baby, no. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just that,” I let out another low laugh. “I’ve never been with someone as big as you. You really were holding out on me, huh?”
Spencer visibly untenses at my words. “Really?”
I nod. “Yes, really. God, you have no idea, do you, Spence? So perfect for me, baby. Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe we came this close to never doing this,” I mumble, caressing the side of his face. He seems to melt at my words, hips bucking up as a low whine escapes his throat. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been thinking about this for two years now. I think I’ve waited long enough,” he pants out, and yeah, okay, he has a point.
“Do you have any condoms?”
Spencer’s entire body stills.
“N-No,” he groans in the oh fuck I came this close to losing my virginity and now I’ve fucked it all up kind of way. “I’ve never needed to have any. I was definitely not expecting this to happen, so.”
“I’m on Depo shots, so if you still want to do this, I’m down.”
“Thank God,” Spencer sighs, and then I’m crawling back onto his lap and dragging my aching heat against him. Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his hands clamp down on my hips, pressing me down harder against his cock. He’s letting out a slew of desperate moans, fingers pressing into the skin of my hips in a way that I’m sure will leave bruises tomorrow. The thought makes me smile and I lean forward to suck a bruise of my own into the side of his neck.
“P-Please, Y/N. I need-”
I lick a stripe up the side of his neck and his hips stutter.
“What do you need, baby?”
“Please, fuck me, I need it so bad,” he cries out, sounding close to tears as he writhes underneath me. “I can’t wait anymore, need to feel you, please-”
I lift my hips then and, without warning, I begin to slowly ease myself down until Spencer is fully sheathed inside of me. His head snaps backwards, hitting the back of the couch as he lets out a positively obscene moan that sounds a lot like my name. I bite down hard on my lip in an attempt to keep from crying out. Having Spencer inside me felt heavenly and I couldn’t stop myself from whimpering pitifully as he bottomed out.
“A-Are you okay? Can I move now?”
Spencer answers with a nod of his head, and for once I don’t remind him to use his words before I slowly begin to rock my hips, relishing in the pleasurable burn that spreads through my core. Unintelligible words mixed with high-pitched groans are falling from Spencer’s mouth as I move against him and his eyes alternating between watching himself go in and out of me and watching the way my face contorts in pleasure when I drop myself back down on him.
“You’re so fucking pretty, Y/N. Can’t believe I get to see you like this. Touched myself thinking about you so many times, you have no idea,” Spencer rambles between broken moans. “Never thought I’d have you. Fuck you’re so tight.”
“You feel so good, Spence. You’re so fucking deep, oh my God.” I let out a loud whine when Spencer brings his hand down in between us and his thumb begins to rub tight circles against my clit. “Fuck, Spencer, don’t stop.”
My head drops down to the crook of his neck and I busy myself with sucking another love bite into the skin directly below his ear.
“D-Don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, feels too g-good,” Spencer chokes out at the same time his thumb quickens its onslaught on my clit. His entire body was trembling beneath me as I continued to grind my hips against him relentlessly.
“Me either, just don’t stop touching me, please.”
I bring our lips together then, and this kiss starkly contrasts the ones from earlier. Where those kisses had been sweet and exploratory, this kiss was hot and hungry and full of desperation. As I felt my orgasm build and build until I was just on the brink of falling off the edge, I pulled away from the kiss and smile a wicked smile at him.
“Can you come for me, baby? Want you to come in me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To fill me up until I’m dripping. Want to make me yours, don’t you?”
           Spencer let out a loud groan, simultaneously fucking up into me and pressing down harder on my clit. The added pressure was the catalyst to my release, and with a breathy moan of his name I felt my walls begin to spasm as I came undone on his cock.
           Spencer was right behind me, giving two more powerful thrusts before spilling inside me. I watched from above him as his face contorted into an expression of total ecstasy as he came, mouth falling open into a silent yell as it washed over him.
           We stayed like that for a moment, catching our breath as we clung to each other, not yet ready to part ways. I rested my forehead against Spencer’s, prompting his eyelids to flutter open. He gave me a small, contented smile before pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.
           Another minute passes and I reluctantly get off of him, only going as far as plopping down on the couch beside him. Several minutes of silence pass, and just when I begin to worry that Spencer actually was regretting this, he breaks the silence.
           “Don’t go out with him,” Spencer says so quietly that I wonder if I’d heard him right.
           “What?”            “Noah,” Spencer clarifies. “I-I know he’s probably a lot more appealing than I am, but I promise that if you give me a chance, I-I could make you happy.” He’s doing that thing where he’s refusing to look at me, and in that moment, he looks so small and so scared that I can practically feel my heart break. “Plus, I’m kind of in love with you. In case you hadn’t noticed.”
           “It took me a while, but yeah, I noticed,” I murmur, reaching out and tilting his chin towards me. His eyes meet mine and I smile up at him. “But that’s okay, because I’m kind of in love with you, too. In case you hadn’t noticed.”
           The smile that stretches across Spencer’s lips is the embodiment of hope and joy and love. I want to be on the receiving end of that smile for as long he’ll let me.
           I answer him by pulling him down into a long, slow kiss.
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spencereidsupremacy · 6 months ago
Talk some sense to me.
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Prompt: Y/N confessed to JJ that she always been in love with Spencer but he never noticed her, too busy focusing on someone else. During a case, they are all held as hostages and JJ confesses her love for him.
Warning: a lot of fluff, mention of depression and anxiety, mention of blood, mention of violence, mention of self-harm, kidnapping, major angst.
Words: 19.5k
But I don’t want to imagine
Words you spoke to her that night
Naked bodies look like porcelain
You both knew I'd be bleeding inside
“I've always loved you. And I was just too scared to say it before.” Y/N looks outside of the window, her mug filled with green tea sitting between her hands as the slow melody of Moonlight sonata plays through her ear from her airpods. But those words are not leaving her mind, haunting her thoughts and destroying her heart each second. She doesn't have the courage to look at her colleague because she knows she'd find her between his arms, cuddling up against his body with her eyes closed and his face pressed on her neck. It's a sight that is going to kill her once and for all, but Y/N is not ready. No, she has to process everything that happened a few hours before her and the team got back on the jet to go back to Quantico. Y/N, JJ and Spencer were kidnapped by the unsub they were looking for; they had their hands and feet tied, no guns and no knives around to help them to get out. The unknown subjects, excited by secrets, forced them to share a deep dark secret to him as their last words and JJ was the first one to go, saying those words that Y/N never thought they could escape from her perfectly shaped lips. “I've always loved you.” Y/N didn't have the courage to look at Spencer because she knew he would've had tears in his eyes and his usual adorable smile on his lips, finally realizing that the woman he has always loved, loved him back. And Y/N was just caught in the crossfire, getting hurt by both her colleagues – and her best friend, the same person who Y/N poured her heart to when she felt like nothing could help her getting through – and the man she has always been in love with, Doctor Reid. When the rest of the team barged into the shop and set free the three hostages, Y/N sat completely around outside. Spencer didn't even go to her, he immediately wrapped his arms around JJ and forgot about the rest of the world. But Y/N was expecting that. Of course she was. Spencer found out that the woman he longed for was in love with him, so who the Hell cares about the other woman with a broken heart right outside? The same woman that has always been by his side through everything that happened to him? The same woman who held his hand when Gideon died, when his mother got kidnapped by Cat, when he thought he was going crazy because of the voices and the migraines? The same woman that got his favourite records, even though she spent all of her money on it, and did it just to make him happy? The same woman who threw him a surprise party, only for him to think JJ was the one who organized everything? But Y/N knows that part of her pain is self-inflicted. She never said anything to Spencer, she never opened up to him about her feelings. She didn't think it'd matter because he has never looked at her the way he did with JJ. He looked at Y/N as if she was his sister. He looked at JJ as if she was his most precious possession. The same way Y/N usually looks at him, as if he's her soulmate, her only reason to exist.
“I've always loved you” - JJ said those words with such force it almost scared Y/N. That sentence was so powerful, so strong that after she said it, everyone in the room got quiet for a good minute. And in that lapse of time, Y/N held her breath because she was terrified of hearing him saying it back. Even though she knew he felt exactly the same for her – with the only exception that he's still in love with her – Y/N didn't want to hear it, to see it, to feel it in her bones. A sharp pain forces her to hiss, as she puts down her cup of tea. «Darling, are you okay?» asks Emily, worry written all over her face Y/N gives her a reassuring smile. «Yes, don't worry. The bruises hurt a bit, but it's fine.» Her heart was aching. Her brain hurts. Her lungs are burning because everything is crushing down on her. She feels as if she's ready to explode, to collapse somewhere and let herself go until she dies out somewhere far away from there, from her life, from her job, from the pain he caused her, from the pain she's causing now. There are bruises all over her body but the most painful, the most terrible and aching pain is in her heart. How can she recover from those words her best friend told to the love of her life? How could JJ keep that a secret and then say it out loud in front of her face? Did she think Y/N wouldn't hear her? That she would start dancing and clapping her hands in happiness for her? It has been said that time heals all wounds. Maybe time will heal this one and Y/N will forgive JJ, but in that exact moment Y/N doesn't know anything anymore. Those words will be forever written in her mind until she takes her last breath. And even then, those words will haunt her for eternity – just like they're doing now, punching her in the chest, crush her heart into dust, blowing it in the wind and leave her hollow. Y/N feels like someone has pulled her heart right out of her chest and driven a train though it, many times until it broke her completely. It's hard to breathe when Spencer is right in front of her, cuddling with JJ on the small couch on the Jet, while Y/N is sitting by herself, crying silently while staring out of the window and wishing she was dead. Y/N wonders if Spencer sees and feels the way he's hurting her, but she knows this thought is not even crossing his mind. No, all he cares is that JJ is safe between his arms and that she'll be by his side until the next time. But what about Y/N, the same girl he kissed during that New Year's Eve party at Rossi? She remembers every little thing that happened before and after that moment. She was looking around, trying to find someone to dance with when the countdown started. Spencer approached her with a glass full of champagne and when midnight struck, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a kiss that she will never be able to forget. She remembers the way his lips moved on hers, the way his tongue slipped between her lips and danced with hers, the way his breath smelled like delicious white wine and vanilla. She remembers when she put down her drink and wrapped both her arms around his neck, kissing him with passion and love. But he didn't, that was just a “midnight kiss”. When he pulled away, Spencer asked her to dance. She had to go to the bathroom so she told him to wait for her right there, but when she came back, he was already gone. He was with JJ, dancing to “Heroes” and looking at her as if she was an Angel sent on Earth by God. And Y/N felt so stupid for even thinking that she had the slightest opportunity with him, because she wasn't JJ. She's not and she will never be her. Y/N leans her head against the window, taking a sip of her hot tea. She can feel the tears pricking in her eyes but she tries her hardest not to let them fall down again; she doesn't want to worry the others of the Team, because she would also call JJ and Spencer over. And she'd notice how a horrible mess is Y/N now, and Y/N doesn't want to break her heart. They just went through something traumatic. It's not right to dig the knife even deeper. But at the same time, Y/N is not hiding her sadness. What's the point in hiding an emotion that is already written all over her face? Y/N curls up on her seat, finishing her tea as she tightens the blanket around her body. She would rather be in his arms, cuddling up against his chest and cry until she has no tears in her system anymore, but she can't because someone else has taken her place. If only it wasn't so difficult, if only she wasn't in love with him, she'd be the happiest person in the world to finally see JJ and Spencer act like how he wanted them to. But she can't be happy when the man she's in love with, loves someone else. Someone that is not her. Y/N blinks away her tears. She has to get away for a second, so she places her mug on the table and excuses herself. She leaves her blanket on her spot and starts walking towards the bathroom, but Spencer glances at her and notices the tears streaming down her face. He wants to stand up, he wants to grab her hand but JJ has fallen asleep on his chest and he can't bother her, not after what they've been through a couple of hours before? «Y/N?» She can feel him call her out but she can't be seen like this. Y/N ignores his second call and locks herself into the bathroom, collapsing on the floor with both hands covering her face. She's 35 years old, for God's sake. She's not 13 anymore, she should be much stronger than this. She shouldn't let a simple heartbreak ruin her like this, and yet she's right there, on the bathroom floor with her heart ready to jump out of her chest and smash on the ground all over again. She lets out a breathy sigh as the tears fall down, wetting the collar of her shirt. Her mascara is running down over her cheeks but she doesn't care, she has to let out all of those emotions before she can bottle them up all over again and pretending as if nothing happened. That unsub could've killed her, if only he pointed the gun at her. Why can't she be more in pain for that rather than a stupid heartbreak? It's not the first time she experiences it, but it was definitely the first time that a serial killer was on the verge of killing her. If he succeeded and killed her, she wouldn't even had the chance to tell Spencer the truth. So? Should this mean that she has to tell him everything? No, she can't. Not now, that he has found his happiness. Not when he finally has the woman he has always loved in his arms, showing him the love that Y/N gave to him for the past ten years. A knock on the door interrupts Y/N's silent cry. She looks up at the door handle, noticing it shifting. «Y/N?» It's Spencer again. Y/N gets up from the floor and quickly flushes the toilet, pretending to have used the bathroom. She washes her face, taking off all the residues of mascara on her cheeks before turning around and opening the door with the fakest smile she has ever put on in her life. «Sorry, the bathroom is all yours.» Spencer blinks, noticing that her eyes are swollen. «I don't have to go. I wanted to check up on you.» Y/N immediately lowers her eyes, shrugging. «Don't worry about me, she needs you.» “And I need you too!” - she would love to add, but she can't bring herself to do that. Spencer doesn't say anything. He moves to the side, letting her walk out of the bathroom to her seat, and follows her with his gaze but doesn't approach her again. Every person goes through traumatic experiences in their own way; if Y/N needs help, she'll ask for it. So he stops worrying, going back to the woman that lays gently against his chest for the rest of the flight. Y/N wraps herself inside of the blanket once again, she puts her airpods back in her ear and she lets Beethoven play. She has to sleep a little bit, she can feel her bones and muscles finally relaxing against her comfortable seat. So she closes her eyes, hoping that a nap would help her feel better. But she can't seem to be able to fall asleep. “I've always loved you.” Those words were like knives, diving through her heart. Why has JJ never said a single thing to her? Was it because Y/N confessed first while she was crying and hurting? Or was it because she knew Spencer was in love with her, and didn't want Y/N to connect the dots and be mad at her if someday they'd show up together at work? Why has JJ waited so long to tell him the truth, if she already had him wrapped around her fingers? Did she want to hurt Y/N even more, showing her that she could take her man in the blink of an eye? There are so many questions that need answers, too many things Y/N is thinking about and her brain hurts from all those vicious thoughts. In that moment, the younger agent would love to go to JJ, shake her by the shoulders and break down in front of her, blaming her for everything. But how could she do that, knowing that JJ would never hurt her? And yet she did, confessing her love for Spencer even though she's married and has two children. How in the world could she be in love with Spencer, happily married? Why didn't she choose Spencer that day instead of Will? Why did she ask Spencer to become her children's godfather, knowing about his feelings for her? Why did she try to push Spencer and Y/N together, knowing that he wasn't interested in her but in JJ herself? Y/N opens her eyes and notices Emily exchanging her seat with, of course, Spencer. He's now sitting in front of Y/N with his hands on the wooden table between them and his eyes are on her face, trying to understand what is going on with her. But she doesn't care, so she turns to the side and ignores him through the rest of the flight. He didn't care about her during the kidnapping, he didn't care about her when the Team came to rescue them, he didn't care about her when the doctor told her that she was the one that got the worst bruises, he didn't care when she broke down in front of the Hospital before leaving. Why does he care now? Because of her tears? They don't compare to the pain she's feeling inside, all over her heart, through her brain, her bones. It's so pathetic that people only start caring for others when they see tears and not when they see pain in others' eyes. It's pathetic but Y/N feels more pathetic than that, because she's crying over a man that will never be hers and for a woman that was supposed to be her best friend. If she can't trust JJ, who is she going to trust? She loves and admires Emily, but they haven't really emotionally connected one to another. JJ was the only person Y/N felt comfortable around to talk about her own feelings – she was the first one to know about her struggles with depression caused by her family, with that horrible anxiety that has eaten her alive through her High School Years. Y/N felt free to tell JJ everything, finally happy to have found someone that genuinely cared for her, but now? What does this mean? JJ clearly didn't feel comfortable enough to tell Y/N her little secret, a secret that hurt both of them – but Y/N more, because at least Spencer knows JJ loves him and JJ doesn't have to hide anymore. She's still married and in love with Will, she still loves her children and would die for them as any mother would, but at least she's free from that “dark and deep” secret. «We're going to land in ten minutes. Please, put your seatbelts on.» Y/N takes off her blanket, carefully folding it beside her, and she buckles her seatbelt. Spencer is still sitting in front of her and he's staring at her, hoping that she would say something to him but she doesn't. She can't fight about that with him without spilling her secret, and she doesn't want people to know about it just yet – well, now she's even more determined to bring that secret to the grave with her because spilling it, saying out loud to him, is totally pointless. When the plane landed and everyone got off the jet with their luggage, Y/N waved at the rest of the team and left in a hurry. Spencer was hoping he could talk to her, but she was already gone inside of that taxi. He caught the last glimpse of her in the exact moment JJ hugged him to say goodbye and he swore he has seen a wave of sadness washing Y/N's face. Then the car door closed and she disappeared from his sight, leaving Doctor Reid with his heart feeling heavier than before.
   Y/N sits on the couch of her apartment, her phone in her hands as she types a quick message to Emily before deleting everything and calling her instead. She has spent a full hour thinking about her decision before actually being ready to take one, until she found the courage to contact her chief of Unit. Maybe this is a bad idea, maybe this is going to be a disaster, maybe this is going to ruin everything between herself and JJ, but Y/N doesn't care anymore. She has to take a few days off, focus on herself and get over what happened in front of her eyes before it kills her. «Y/N? Is everything okay? I saw you typing on iMessage.» Emily's voice, still filled with worry, captures Y/N's attention. «Hi. No, everything is fine. I just wanted to tell you that I'm accepting your offer.» On the other side of the phone, her chief lets out a soft sigh. «That's a good decision, Y/N. I know how hard it is for you to step down for a few days, but I'm sure it'll help you feel better. What you went through day was horrible and you need to process everything before coming back.» Y/N bites her bottom lip. If only Emily knew, if only Y/N could tell her the truth – she didn't care about the unsub, she would've begged him to kill her with a single bullet to her head if only she knew JJ was going to declare her love for Spencer right in front of her. «Yes, you're right. Thank you so much and I'm sorry if I seemed off earlier on the jet. - Y/N whispers, the first tear runs down her cheek – I wish you a wonderful night, chief Prentiss.» And before the other woman could actually reply to her words, Y/N hung up. She throws her phone on the table but after a few seconds, it starts to ring again and her heart flutters in her chest. What if Emily sensed that something was off with her? What if she's going to ask her about JJ and Spencer? Y/N steps down from the couch and grabs her phone again, but this time she sees Spencer's number. He's calling her but she doesn't want to answer. Not when she's about to breakdown all over again because of him, because of JJ, because of them together. So, Y/N hung up and turns off her phone so he won't bother her again – and if he does, she won't see it. Y/N walks inside of her bedroom and turns off the lights, sitting in the middle of her bed. She curls up again and closes her eyes, staring at the picture on her nightstand. She's in the middle between JJ and Spencer, his right arm wrapped around her waist and the other one used to lift his hand and make the peace sign. It's one of the first photographs that someone took for her, picturing the two most important people for her – outside and inside the work field. JJ looks ethereal, her blonde hair flowing in the wind, her kind smile and her dark blue eyes capturing everyone. Y/N looks so shallow beside her, with her curly blonde hair, that weird smile and her glasses falling down the bridge of her nose. Of course Spencer is not attracted to her or sees her as a little sister, Y/N is not as beautiful as JJ. She has always known that, always noticed that every single man looked at JJ and never at Y/N, but she thought that maybe Spencer could go over the physical appearance. He told Y/N many times that he had this weird but strong connection with her; they share the same music tastes, they usually buy each other's books, they order the same things to eat. They are both nerdy and geeky. So maybe that's another reason why Spencer can't look at her in a romantic way: because she kinda looks like him, the female version of Doctor Reid – less smart, with less PhDs but awkward, adorable and nerdy. Y/N rolls on her back, watching the dark painted ceiling of her bedroom. Why did she fall in love with Spencer Reid? Why didn't she fall in love with Kevin, the guy who sells book in the bookshop near her apartment? Why didn't she fall in love with Mariah, the cashier of the Café in front of the parking lot at the FBI? Why didn't she fall in love with Justin, the cute bodyguard who offered her a coffee two weeks before leaving for the case? Why did she have to fall in love with a man whose heart is already taken? Her iPad starts ringing, startling her for a second. Y/N grabs it from her nightstand and notices an incoming call on Skype from Spencer. He's probably worried about her because she hasn't returned any of his calls and didn't even hug him goodbye at the airport. So? Is she forced to answer him? No, she's not. But she doesn't want to hurt him. So she accepts the call, turning the light of her small quartz lamp on her nightstand. It illuminates half of her face, hiding the dark circles around her eyes and her tears-stained cheeks. Spencer's face comes up on the screen and Y/N wants to smile at the sight but the pain is too strong, too suffocating to make her forget everything in an instant. It grips her throat with such force, leaving Y/N almost breathless; it's the same exact feeling she used to feel back in High School, when her anxiety creeped up on her back and choked her before stepping inside of her classroom. Even though the causes are not the same, the feeling is. And she hates it. «Hi! Thank God you answered. I was worried.» Y/N puts her iPad down, laying on the bed. «My phone is dead, sorry.» «Yeah, I figured. That's why I called you on Skype. - he says, a little smile hovering on his lips – I wanted to make sure you were okay after today, even though you told me not to worry.» She scoffs and he notices but doesn't say anything. «I'm fine. A bit shaken but I'll get over it.» «Do you want me to come over?» asks Spencer, hoping she'd say yes But Y/N shakes her head. «No, thank you. I'm not in the mood for talking. I was actually ready to go to sleep because I have a few things to do tomorrow.» He stays quiet for a second, then nods. «Oh, okay. You know you can tell me anything, right?» «Yes, I know. - she mumbles, feeling another tear streaming down her face – I have to go now, I'm sorry. Goodnight.» She hangs up before he can reply and she hopes he didn't see that damned tear. She hopes that the darkness of her room covered it up, because she won't be able to explain to him the reason behind her sadness without spilling her heart to him. A part of her knows that if she tells him everything, she'd feel better – but the other part of her knows that if she does, she'd ruin everything and the only person that was able to make her feel something, would be scared of her and run away. Every single one of her lovers ran away from her – well, they didn't run away because she did something but because they were disgusting dickheads that just wanted to get into her pants, fuck her once and leave her. Until she found Spencer. He gave her a reason to keep believing in love, thinking that all the coffees he used to buy to her before work, all the lunches they've shared in the breakroom or in the nice restaurant outside the building, or the night at Rossi's where they played pool and darts together meant something, but they didn't. Y/N remembers when Spencer called her and asked her if he could come over to her place. She thought it was finally time to open the door and letting him kiss her, but that's not what happened. When she opened that door, Spencer was crying because JJ got married. Because he lost the love of her life to another agent – Spencer likes Will, he never hated him for stealing her JJ the way Y/N is now hating JJ for stealing Spencer's heart. “You don't understand how painful it is to watch someone you love being in love with somebody else” - he told her, holding her hands and letting her comfort him with a hug. But Y/N was feeling that in the same exact moment, because she was watching the man she was – and still is – in love with breaking down because the woman he was in love with was about to start her life with someone else. Life is pretty ironic, isn't it? Her situation sounds like a teen drama. Y/N, in love with Spencer. JJ, Y/N's best friend, secretly in love with Spencer. Spencer, Y/N's soulmate, openly in love with JJ. How did she get into this? Why couldn't she fall in love with someone else?
Why was it so simple for Morgan to find another person after the love of his life left him? She should be crying because of what the unsub could've done to her, not because a woman who was supposed to be her friend, confessed her that she's in love with the man Y/N has always loved. Why was her mind so fucked up to the point where she had to physically think about herself being a hostage to actually feel terrified? It should be something that comes off easily, especially being held hostage for the first time since she left Garcia's office to join the team on the field. Y/N opens iMessage on her iPad and quickly sends JJ a message: “Hey, how are you feeling?” Her response doesn't take too long to arrive: “Happy to be safe and at home. How are you?” Y/N doesn't reply. She doesn't have an answer, she doesn't want to make JJ worry so she turns off her iPad too and forces herself to close her eyes and stop thinking. She has to relax her legs, her arms, but most importantly her mind so she can drift off to sleep and finally enjoy some well-deserved relax. “I've always loved you. And I was just too scared to say it before.” Of course those words were going to come back and haunt her in that precise moment. Y/N doesn't know how she responded to JJ's words inside of her shop. She remembers walking out of it with Rossi's right arm wrapped around her shoulders and the collar of her shirt totally wet. She cried in front of Spencer, but he didn't even notice. She cried in front of JJ, but she didn't notice, too busy declaring her love for him. She cried in front of the unsub – Y/N knows he noticed, he was amused and satisfised by the fact that JJ's words were cutting Y/N's heart up like knives the same way those glass pieces under her thighs cut her skin and made her bleed all over the floor. Not even when she bled Spencer noticed her. Not even when she cried out in pain Spencer noticed her. His eyes were on JJ the whole time, so why did he pretend to care for Y/N? She steps out of her bed, anger running through her body to the point where she punched her glass full of water down the nightstand. Pieces of glass are stuck in her knuckles, the water is spilled all over the floor and the tears back again, streaming down her cheeks. And Y/N breaks down, collapsing on her knees as her heart bleeds like her hand. Y/N knows she's being too dramatic. That she shouldn't let those words haunt her mind to the point where she can't stop thinking about them, but that's exactly how her mind works. And she doesn't know how to turn it off, how to stop feeling so much. She tried going to therapy but that didn't help her, mainly because she didn't feel at ease with her doctor. But one thing stuck with her through the years, even after he stopped practicing medicine because of his age and after she moved to America to pursue her dream job: “If you're feeling something, let it all out. Don't bottle it up in your mind or your heart or it'll eat you from the inside, killing you slowly each time you're going to feel the same emotion.” So in that moment Y/N lets herself feel everything. That's how she managed to go on: by knowing exactly what is coming and letting herself breakdown, not thinking about anything else but herself. When Spencer got kidnapped by Tobias, Y/N was so fucking terrified. She remembers not being able to breathe every single time he was recorded by the killer, she remembers sitting in her hotel room alone and praying on her knees, begging God not to let her love die. And he got back to the team, all shaken up because of what he went through, Spencer hugged her with such force that she started crying on his shoulders, thanking God in little whispers on the Doctor's ear. That was one of the most horrible moments in her life because she didn't know if Spencer was going to come back alive and she couldn't have that, she didn't want him to die. But then... he came back. And he hugged her, feeling the terror leave her body in the exact moment he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a very tight hug. But still, Spencer never noticed that it was love. Y/N stands up, trying not to step with her bare feet over the glasses on the floor, and walks out of the bedroom to grab a trashcan that she fills with the pieces. She doesn't care that she cut her own fingers, a little blood never hurt nobody. After cleaning everything up and applying a bandage around her index, she lays back down on the bed while turning on her phone. She connects it to the charger and lets out a soft huff, noticing a few messages from Spencer before he called on Skype. “Y/N, are you okay?” “You can talk to me, you know I won't judge you. You should never be afraid to speak to me, especially not after what we've been through today together.” Y/N laughs at the second message, a full loud real laugh that echoes through the room. He really used the term “together”. No, he only had eyes for JJ. He was worried for her, not for Y/N who was bleeding on the floor and calling out for him, to help her somehow, to get closer to her. But of course, he didn't notice. “Come on, Y/N. I'm worried about you.” Of course he was worried about her, because he saw her crying on the jet while staring at him. Not because she was crying inside the shop, not when the unsub threatened to slit her throat right of Spencer, too busy muttering something to JJ, not when the glasses cut her skin, not when Y/N couldn't even stand up from the floor and had to be carried out by Rossi. Never. He never noticed. Y/N leaves her phone on the nightstand and slips under her blanket, wrapping it around her body with her head now resting on the pillow. The sadness has now left her body and it has been replaced by anger. Such a deep and raging anger inside of her that she has to calm down before grabbing her phone again and call Spencer, cursing him out in the worst way. Instead, she manages to breathe in and out to the rhythm of her clock. Until she falls asleep.
   When Spencer steps inside the bullpen on Monday, he sits on his usual chair with his legs crossed under the table while sipping on his coffee. He's very relaxed because he spent the whole day before on the couch, enjoying a good book, even better coffee and some slow music to keep him company. He didn't even watch the news on his television. He didn't use his phone, he didn't do anything that involved work or his colleagues, because he had to step away for a few hours. But now he's back and he's ready to work. Rossi and Prentiss join Spencer in the bullpen a couple of minutes later, sitting down on their chairs while chatting about something Spencer doesn't understand – and doesn't care about, if he has to be honest, because his mind is still a bit busy thinking about what happened. And when JJ, Luke, Tara and Matthew step inside of the room, closing the door behind their back, Spencer furrows his eyebrows because he was waiting for someone else. He looks around, thinking that maybe Y/N is in the bathroom or still down in the Cafeteria waiting for her usual “latte macchiato”. So he waits another five minutes, nervously tapping his fingers against the wooden surface of the table inside of the main room. Spencer knew that there was something wrong with Y/N, that she wasn't okay after what happened the day before but he thought she just needed to get through this and sleep on it for two whole days. It's not the first time she gets kidnapped, but she has never taken days off work. Only when she got shot in the thigh and couldn't walk. «Where's Y/N?» Everyone's attention turned to Spencer after he asked that question. «I offered her to stay at home for a few days after what happened. She seemed off on the plane so I thought it'd be the best decision of her. - Prentiss replied, taking a sip of her coffee – And she accepted, but she'll be back next week.» JJ opens her mouth. «I thought she was okay.» «I didn't. She wasn't herself when she got on the Jet. - Spencer interrupts her, pulling out his phone to see if there was a message from her but didn't see anything – Yesterday night she didn't return my calls, I had to contact her through Skype. She never rejects my calls.» Rossi looks over at Emily, then at Luke. «Everyone reacts to traumas differently. Maybe she just needed to be alone, Reid. You should know it better than anyone else.» And then the conversation ends. But Spencer feels the need to call her, to make sure that she's fine and she's just tired, overwhelmed because of what happened to them. A part of him wants to go to her place right after work – and thankfully on Monday he finishes right before lunch – but another part of him is telling him to not do anything, to leave her alone in order not to fight her. What if Y/N gets mad at him for going to her apartment and bother her? What if she really wants to be left alone to deal with her problems all by herself? It wouldn't be the first time. When her father passed away, Y/N focused on her work and didn't talk to anyone for a couple of days. Garcia tried to talk her into going out for lunch with all of her colleagues and Y/N snapped at her, telling her to go away because she was busy and didn't need to have lunch with anyone. Of course, Y/N apologized and Garcia told her that she understood, but Spencer thought that she should've called someone for help. It would've been better. But of course, he's not Y/N. He doesn't know how or what she's feeling. So he pulls out his phone and quickly types a message to Y/N. “Hey, are you okay?” The answer arrives a few seconds later. “You're at work. Work.” Spencer doesn't like that message. «Emily, I'll be back. I'm sorry.» He steps outside the bullpen in a hurry, walking towards the sliding doors at the end of the hallway and steps outside. He leans against the wall and immediately calls the girl, bringing the phone to his ear as he hopes she'd reply. Now he's really worried about her because she has never acted that way. Even if they fought, she had never replied to him so harshly and cryptic at the same time, so what happened? Did he do something to hurt her or is she just behaving like a child because she wants attention? «Why are you calling me, Spencer?» He's relieved to hear her voice, fainter than the night before. «Because I'm worried about you, Y/N. Emily told us you won't be back for a whole week.» «So? It's not the first time that someone takes a few days off. - Y/N bites back, her tone bitter but her voice sounding like a whisper – I have a few things going on my mind, I wouldn't be able to focus on my job and I don't want to be kicked out of the team.» Spencer bites his bottom lip. «You can talk to me, if you feel like it.» Y/N lets out a soft sigh. «I know, I just don't want to.» «Do you mind if I come over for lunch? I can bring you something to make you feel better. - the young doctor suggests, hoping she doesn't reject him – Pleasure foods won't make you happier, but it can distract you for a couple of minutes. I won't say a single word, if you...» She interrupts him. «I do mind, actually. I don't want to see you and I don't want to talk you, Doctor Reid. Which part don't you understand?» Ouch, that hurts. Spencer looks up, feeling a lump in his throat. «Sorry for caring about a friend.» «Yeah, the same friend that had a knife pointed at her throat but you were too busy eye-fucking the love of your life. - Y/N bites back for the second time in a row – Now go back to work.» And she hangs up before giving him the chance to open his mouth. He definitely wasn't expecting her to be so harsh. He wasn't eye-fucking JJ, he knew Y/N had the unsub behind her with a knife on her throat but he was trying to push a piece of glass towards JJ so she could free both of them. He didn't look at Y/N because he knew she'd be able to handle the man around her. But maybe he should've said something, maybe he should've touched her foot with his boot to let her know that he was still there for her. Spencer runs his fingers through his hair, letting out a soft sigh as he shakes his head while his heart drops into his chest. Y/N is mad – no, she's furious – at him and he can't blame her, he understands now the reason why she didn't want to talk to him. She felt betrayed, left alone while being held hostage. And he didn't even notice. He should have, especially after she looked him with tears in her eyes right after JJ said those words. Spencer should've noticed the pain in Y/N's eyes but he didn't. And now he feels sick. When he goes back to the bullpen, JJ grabs him by the elbow and pushes him in her office to talk. He doesn't even notice that she locked the door, he kept repeating Y/N's words in his mind; and every single time he did that, the anger seemed stronger and stronger, more and more. Why didn't he notice? He should've known, he should've opened his mouth, he should've done something but he didn't. Why? Was he really that busy looking at JJ? «Did you call her?» Spencer snaps his head up. «Yes. She... God, this is all my fault.» JJ furrows her eyebrows. «Why? What did she say? Is she okay? She hasn't replied to me last night.» «She said not to worry but I know this is my fault. - he mutters, shaking his head as he lowers his eyes on the floor – I should've done something, I should've noticed her behaviour inside the shop.» «What are you talking about, Spence?» asks JJ again, more confused than before He runs a hand through his hair, sighing loudly. «She had a knife at her throat, the killer threatened to kill her but I was too busy helping you to notice she was calling me. I remember now. I didn't... I didn't even turn around, JJ. And she was crying.» JJ opens her mouth, then sits behind her desk. «You were trying to pass me a...» «Yes, I know that, but she was crying. She was calling for me, JJ. - Spencer tells her, urgency in his voice as his eyes start to water – I didn't do anything for her. I didn't even talk to her when the SWAT escorted us out of the shop.» The woman puts a hand on his shoulder. «She was with Rossi, Spence. It's not your fault.» But Spencer shakes his head, pushing her hand away. «Yes, it's all my fault. Y/N has always been by my side, she has always helped me when I needed to be helped. But I didn't do the same for her when she needed me.» JJ doesn't say anything and Spencer storms out of her office, going straight to his desk. Y/N doesn't want him to go to her apartment but he has to make things clear. He has to say something, he has to beg her for forgiveness. But how can he talk to her if she doesn't want to see or speak to him? She has every right to be angry, to be upset but she can't stay mad forever. «Reid, hey. - Tara exclaims, walking towards his desk – Are you okay?» He quickly nods, lowering his eyes. «Yeah. I just... I called Y/N. She's very angry.» The woman raises an eyebrow, confused by his words. «Angry? At you? Oh come on, that's not possible. She's literally in love with you.» Spencer looks up, staring at her colleague for a few seconds. Y/N? In love with him? Maybe metaphorically because she certainly hates him right now – which is totally understandable. «She doesn't want to talk to me and I don't know what to do.» Tara sits on her desk, right in front of his. «Don't pry too much, it won't help. Tell her that you're going to wait until she's ready to talk and then leave her alone, Spencer. She might need a few days to focus on herself and feel better. Pressuring her and calling her constantly won't help, it can make things worse.» Her colleague is right. «But what if she thinks I don't care about her, if I don't go to her place?» «That would be incoherent, Y/N is not. If she demands to be left alone, you have to do what she says and let her be. - Tara says, crossing her arms to her chest – But I don't think she's angry at you. Maybe she's just upset. She got kidnapped and had a knife to her throat, it's not something you get over easily.» Spencer nods, tapping his fingers on the surface of his table. «Why did you say she's in love with me?» The woman lifts an eyebrow. «Have you seen the way she looks at you, Spencer?» No, he never noticed it. «We're just friends.» «I didn't say you were more. - Tara says, shaking her head with a small smile on her lips – Anyway, keep me posted if you she says something. I'm worried about her, too.» Spencer grabs his phone and unlocks it, opening Y/N's chat before typing a simple message. Tara is right, he can't keep calling and texting her if she made sure to tell him she wasn't in the mood for anything. But still, Spencer felt the need to do something for her. Should he send her flowers? He knows that her favourite's are sunflowers. But what if she doesn't want them? What if she gets even madder at him for doing that? “I'm here whenever you want to talk to me. I love you, you're my best friend.” He sends that message and leaves his phone on the desk, running both hands through his soft hair. He doesn't know that Y/N, after reading that text, felt her heart break all over again. Spencer crosses his arms, turning on his chair towards Rossi. The older man gives him a smile, bowing his head down for a second, before starting to walk inside of his office. The young doctor stands up and follows him, hoping to get a different answer from him. «Rossi? Can I talk to you for a second?» The agent sits back on his chair, nodding. «Of course. What's up, Reid?» Spencer sits in front of him, biting his bottom lip. «Did Y/N say something to you yesterday, when you carried her out of the shop?» «Not that I recall, no. Why? - Rossi leans back, taking a look at his wrist – I mean, she told me she couldn't breathe but I think it was because she was having a panic attack. She didn't say anything else.» «She doesn't want to talk to me and I was hoping she said something else to you. - Spencer replies, hoping not to sound too obsessed – Sorry.» Rossi taps his hand on the desk. «Hey, it's okay. Did something happen inside of the shop? Before we barged into it?» «You've heard everything through the cameras. Nothing else happened. That's why I'm so confused, I don't know what to think or what to do. - the doctor mutters, playing with the edge of his button up shirt – Y/N didn't speak to JJ either.» The older man raises an eyebrow. «What did you expect? After JJ's confession, what would you wanted Y/N to have said? Or done?» «Do you think it has something to do with JJ?» asks Spencer Rossi lifts both hands, shrugging. «You should ask them, not me. Mine was just an hypothesis.» «I don't understand why would she be mad at JJ for that. Or to me, for that. I didn't do anything, the unsub forced JJ to say something and she said whatever thought it was appropriate. - Spencer stands up from the chair, tapping his foot on the floor – Y/N knows I, uhm, used to be in love with JJ.» «Well, Reid, I don't know what else to tell you. - Rossi replies to him, blinking – You have to talk to one of them. And since Y/N doesn't want you contact her, you can try talking to JJ. But she seems just as clueless as you, she asked me about Y/N too.» The doctor lets out a huge sigh, shaking his head. «I've already talked to JJ.» «Then, I'm sorry but I don't know how to help you. - Rossi says, tilting his head – Is there something going on between you and Y/N?» Spencer shrugs, standing up from the chair. «No. We're just friends.» «Are you sure about that?» the older agent asks again What kind of question is that? Of course he is sure, there was never a single moment where the thought of their relationship going in a different way than a friendship. So why is Rossi asking if there is something more than that? Why did Tara say that Y/N is in love with him? What are they thinking about that he doesn't know about? Is there a secret going on between all the members, revolving around Y/N and her love life? Or her feelings in general? «Do you think Y/N is in love with me?» Rossi doesn't seem surprised about his question. «I don't think anything, Reid. I don't know her the way that you do, even though she has been working with me for ten years.» Spencer is frustrated. «David, please. You must think something about her. Does she behave differently when she's with me? Does she look me in a certain way?» «You shouldn't ask me what I think, Spencer. - Rossi tells him, crossing his arms to his chest – I'm sure you can figure these things out on your own. I have to finish writing a report for...» The doctor tightens his fingers around the chair seat. «Sorry, you're right. I'll find a way to talk to her.» And he leaves his office.
   It has been a week since Y/N last talked to Spencer – to anyone, actually. She was feeling much better, those words were not haunting her – until night, when she usually cried herself to sleep only to wake up the day after with a huge smile on her face and the energy of a lion – and she's more than ready to go back to work. She doesn't know what to expect from the first case of the month – Emily didn't tell her anything else apart from “meet us in the bullpen” - but she's excited. And she can't wait to show off her new darker not-curly-anymore hair, the first change she has ever done in her whole life. Y/N has always had curly blonde hair, similar to her mother's, but now she felt the need to change something and she started with her hair. Even though she hasn't gotten over what happened – she processed being held at gunpoint with a knife to her throat, but the betrayal and the anger caused by it are still lingering in her mind, leaving a very bitter taste on her tongue. Y/N shows her badge to the bodyguards at the entrance of the building and waves at them, walking then inside this building with a huge smile on her lips. She's wearing a very tight black skirt and a white blouse, something professional but comfortable at the same time, and her usual signature black shiny heels. They're not too high but they're not platforms. And they're Spencer's favourite shoes. Exiting the elevator, Y/N walks down the hallway when Garcia spots her. «Hey! You're back! - Penelope exclaims, running towards her – Oh, I've missed you! How are you feeling? Are you okay?» Y/N hugs her quickly, nodding with a smile. «Yes, I'm fine. I really needed this week off. I hope you and the team didn't miss me too much.» Tara walks out of the bathrooms, noticing the two women in the hallway. «Y/N! Hello!» After hearing Y/N's name, Spencer immediately stands up from his chair and follows the voices until he finally reaches the corridor. He thought she was going to meet him first, sneaking up behind him with his favourite coffee mug filled with the dark liquid and her gorgeous smile. But she didn't, she arrived early but not to go see him. When Spencer sees her, a huge smile appears on his lips. «Hey Y/N.» She looks up at him but her smile disappears, as if she didn't want to see him. «Hi.» Before they could exchange more words – or better, more awkward words – Y/N gets pulled away by Garcia and Tara, offering a cup of tea and a few biscuits in the breakroom where Rossi, Prentiss, JJ, Luke and Matthew were doing their morning ritual before starting to work. Spencer follows the three girls, unable to take his eyes off Y/N because she wore his favourite outfit. He has always loved seeing her in skirts, showing off her legs and wearing those beautiful shoes. She looked ethereal. Spencer notices her hair. It wasn't curly as usual, but it was straight. It fits her, but he prefers those beautiful curls adorning her angelic face. And he also notices that she has lost some weight, that she has dark circle under her eyes even though she's wearing make up. «Y/N, you're back! Hello! - Emily exclaims, going to hug her tightly – Oh, welcome back.» After exchanging hugs and kisses with almost everyone, ignoring voluntarily Spencer and JJ, Y/N grabs the mug Garcia hands her with a huge smile on her face. A totally different expression than the one she had when she spotted Spencer between her colleagues. And now Spencer notices it, because it's the first time in all of their years of friendship that she's ignoring him in front of all those people – and they're not noticing anything. Just like he didn't notice when she was crying in front of him, with a knife under her throat and a man yelling in her ear about he was going to kill her, letting her bleed out right in front of all the other hostages. Spencer feels sick but at the same time he's glad to see her, to have her around again. He knows that they're relationship is not going to be the same, not after his thoughts and her words and all that happened when they got kidnapped, but still. At least he knows she's alive, she's coming to work and she's doing whatever she wants. However, Spencer needs to talk to her. He has missed her more than he expected and he wants to make sure that she's okay, that she's thinking about forgiving him – even if he still has to find a way to convince her to forgive him for what he's done. Y/N waves at Garcia as she gets out of the breakroom, followed by Rossi, Luke and Matthew. JJ and Emily are still inside, listening to Y/N talk about whatever she has done at home during her week off work, so Spencer approaches the women and sits against the counter. «I really like your hair. You look gorgeous both with blonde curly hair and straight dark blonde hair. But why did you change it?» Y/N shrugs, trying her best not to look at Spencer. She can feel his gaze on her face and she knows that he's waiting for her to be completely alone in order to talk to her, but she doesn't want to listen to his excuses. She knows that Tara ended up almost confessing something to him – or at least that's what Tara texted her a week ago – and that Rossi basically told Spencer that there's something more going on between them, but still. «I've never dyed my hair and I thought it would be cool to try and do it. My mother almost passed out when she saw my hair but she liked it. - Y/N explains with a smile, shrugging – I'm definitely not used to see my hair straight, but it's fine. It'll be curly again tomorrow night after my shower.» Emily excuses herself out of the room when her phone starts ringing. JJ, Spencer and Y/N are alone in the breakroom and Y/N is tempted to get out of there before something happens. She hasn't talked to JJ yet – and JJ didn't even bother to try to contact her, maybe because she didn't even notice that Y/N was in the same room as her during the kidnapping – and Y/N feels betrayed by her. She was expecting JJ to end up at her house last Monday, or at least during the weekend in order to clear out everything that happened but no. Nothing happened, Y/N was alone – as she wanted, of course, for the whole week. But maybe it was for the best. «Can I talk to you for a moment, Y/N? Before Emily calls us in the bullpen?» JJ speaks first Spencer quickly glances at her, then at Y/N. «I'll leave you guys alone. I'll see you later.» The not-for-so-long dark blonde girl follows his movements with her eyes, biting her bottom lip when Spencer closes the door behind his back to leave them alone. Maybe JJ is about to tell her that she's sorry for what happened? Maybe she will explain to Y/N what was going on in her mind in the moment of the kidnapping? JJ takes a quick look at the door, realizing that they're totally alone. «You can talk.» «I don't even know where to start, if I have to be honest. I feel really bad for what happened in Dallas because I knew that I wasn't the only one being held hostage. I saw the way you looked at Spencer, I saw the way you looked at us on the Jet and I realized that you were upset because of me. - JJ says, leaning against the chair behind her – I didn't want to talk to you over the phone and I didn't want to come over because Spencer told me you wanted to be left alone. Either way, I should've sent you a text and asked you if you were up to talk to me but... I just didn't. I don't have any excuse.» Y/N stands there, not really knowing what to say or what to do. They're at work, in the breakroom where people could barge in or eavesdrop their conversation in order to keep their gossip session going so why is JJ telling her this now? If she has spoken to Spencer, what did she tell him? «You never told me you were in love with him, JJ. And you decided to tell me about it in front of me, in front of him, knowing how much I am now in love with him. - Y/N says, feeling the anger slowly building up in her bloodstream – You know he loves you, so why did you do it? Why in front of me?» JJ opens her mouth to speak but closes it again when she realizes she doesn’t know how to respond to those questions. Y/N decides not to let this affect her all over again so she grabs her friend's hands, holding them tightly in hers. «Listen to me for a moment, okay? You are my best friend and I love you very much, but what happened inside of that shop hurt me. I know that it was a secret for a reason, that you didn't tell me because you know how much I love Spencer but that confession was just... too much. I don't have a reason to hate you and I don't want to hate you, you are the only person I told about my love for him but at the same time you're the person that he's in love with, and you declared your love for him. - Y/N speaks slowly, hoping that JJ decides not to say anything else – That unsub wanted a deep dark secret and you gave it to him so it's fine, I can't be mad for that. I just didn't want see you stealing him from me again, but I guess everyone not always get what they want.» And without any other words, Y/N gets out from the breakroom. Her heart is heavy in her chest and she feels horrible for saying those words to her best friend, but she couldn't stay silent and pretend that everything was okay. Especially not with her, she's the reason why Spencer never cared for Y/N the way she did for him. Y/N doesn't blame Spencer; love can make you blind to others, love can turn you away from your friend but... what happens when love makes you blind to another person that is in love with you? That is giving all of herself to you? That would take a bullet in her head for you? That hoped the unsub would've slit her throat instead of hearing her best friend tell the love of your love how much she loves him? Y/N walks right in front of Spencer's desk and his head snaps up, noticing that she hasn't stopped like usual behind him. He stops spinning on his chair, tapping his index against the counter when Emily appear on top of the stairs at tilts her head. «Bullpen. All of us.» It's time to work.
    «Y/N, is it okay if you and Spencer share the bedroom?» asks Emily in a low voice The younger woman in front of her shrugs. «Yes, it's fine. Does it have two beds?» Her chief nods, giving her the key. «Absolutely. I'm very sorry but there were no single rooms, you and Reid were the only one without a roommate.» Y/N doesn't want to argue with her chief about her bedroom so she keeps her mouth shut, quickly nodding as she walks towards Spencer waiting in the hallway of the Hotel. They just arrived in New York and they're going to stay in the area for a couple of days to work on a case of children that got kidnapped by someone in the middle of the day, in public places. None of the children have been hurt or murdered, they're all alive but apparently no one knows where they are. And of course, the parents are freaking out over the letters they keep receiving from the unsub. JJ didn't join the team. This case was hitting a little too close at home for her and offered to do Rossi's paperwork in exchange of Tara going with them to New York. Y/N was upset because she felt like part of her excuses had something to do with her – JJ reassured that their situation didn't have anything to with it – but still. It felt weird not to have JJ around, especially because she was supposed to be her roommate. And now not only Y/N has to share her bedroom with the person she's angry at, she has also to speak with him and sleep by his side. It's not the first time that they sleep in the same bedroom, it happened many times before when JJ had her second child – or when Luke or Matthew couldn't join the team because of their families. Now is totally different, though. Before that moment, Y/N was never angry at Spencer; and now she is, angrier than she has ever been in her life. «We have to sleep in the same room. I hope it's not a problem for you.» announces Y/N Spencer blinks, turning his head towards her. «Oh? Okay, it's fine. Is it a problem for you?» She doesn't reply to him, pressing the button for the elevator. Even if they have to sleep in the same room, it doesn't mean they actually have to talk about something specific. Right? Y/N is not forced to tell him anything because they're on duty, they are working on a case and it's better to keep a low profile when they're in a different city. Also, she doesn't want to fight with him again because it'll set her off for the rest for the time she's going to spend there. She needs to be focused, her mind needs to be as sharp as ever and personal problems won't help her solving the case. Y/N steps out of the elevator, walking directly to the room before opening the door without even looking at him. Spencer follows her in silence, closing the door behind his back as she puts her luggage on the bed closer to the window. «Are you going to ignore me for the rest of the day?» She glances at him, shrugging. «I don't have anything to say.» Spencer puts his hands on his hips. «You could start by telling me why are you so angry at me.» Y/N puts her gun and her badge on the nightstand beside her bed. «I'm not angry.» «You are not talking to me or JJ so you either hate me or her. And to be honest, I'm tired of fighting or worrying about something you haven't told me yet.- he says, placing his luggage on the floor as he sits on the bed next to her – I know you were expecting me to do something, to notice you or to help you when we were inside of that shop but..» She scoffs, shaking her head as a tight fake smile appears on her lips. «Don't start profiling me.» «I'm not, Y/N. I'm just stating the truth. You hate that I didn't pay attention to you and I understand, I'm very sorry for that. - the young doctor replies to her, tilting his head – I was trying to pass JJ a piece of glass so she could cut the tight tape on our wrists without being noticed.» Y/N balls her hands into fist, forcing herself to keep her mouth shut. If she says something, she's going to actually ruin everything between them and she can't have that. Spencer doesn't know anything and it's better that way, leaving him in the dark. Y/N doesn't hate him, how could he even think that when she's actually ready to take a bullet for him? Is he really going to dismiss her feelings like that by using the word “hate”? She has never hated anyone – well, she hates serial killer, rapists, racists and many others but they're not her friends. She doesn't hate her friends. «I'm tired and I want to go to bed. - Y/N says, pulling out her pyjamas – I'm going to put my alarm at seven in the morning. I'll wake you up, if you want to.» She takes off her shirt right in front of him, not really caring about his eyes on her chest, and pulls down her skirt before kicking her shoes on the floor along with her socks. She should be happy that he's staring at her, as if he has never seen a naked woman before in his life, but in that moment Y/N is really angry at him. Even angrier than before, if it's possible. Y/N walks inside of the bathroom, washing her face before stepping on. She places her luggage on the floor, pushing it towards the window, and sits back on the bed when Spencer starts moving his bed next to hers, connecting them together. «What the fuck are you doing?» Spencer lays back on the bed, turning to her side to look at her. «Sleeping with you.» She blinks, then rolls her eyes. «Don't you dare stealing my blanket or I'll cut your hands.» Y/N puts her black tight shirt on along with her leggings, relaxing her body on the soft mattress. She doesn't mind having Spencer so near her, but at the same time she knows that if he lays a hand on her, she'll start crying. Or she'll straddle him and kiss him. And she can't do that, not after what happened and all the tears she wasted on him. Spencer gets closer to her, turning of the main lights but leaving his lamp lightened up. He lifts the blanket, covering both of their bodies, and lays his hand on her hip before tapping his index on her skin right under her shirt. Y/N feels the shivers running down her spine as she opens her eyes, her heart beating a little too fast in her chest to even notice that their faces are a little too close. «Can you please tell me how are you feeling, Y/N?» She can see in his eyes that he's really worried right now. «About what, exactly?» «About everything, actually.» She turns her eyes from him, letting out a soft sigh. «I'm not feeling anything, Spence. I just... I was hoping you'd come over and asked me if I were okay after we got escorted out of the shop, but you were too busy with JJ. And I know it doesn't make sense because I was with Rossi but.. I needed you too.» Spencer lifts his hand, placing it on her cheek. «She was terrified, Y/N. I had to stay with her.» Those words ruin everything. Y/N pushes his hand away with force and turns her back on him. “She was terrified”. As if. What the fuck did he think? That Y/N was actually happy to have a knife under her throat and a man screaming in her ear? That she was excited to see all of them being hostage at the same time and same place? That she was hoping to be kidnapped and hoped someone threatened to kill her and her two best friends right in front of each other? «This is fucking ridiculous. - Y/N spits, covering her face with her blanket – As if she was the only one who got scared in the middle of a fucking kidnapping and hostage situation. You are fucking absurd, you don't even notice the things that happen under your fucking nose.» Spencer keeps looking at her, thankful that he was able to break part of her walls. «She needed me. She confessed that she loved me, what could've I done? Let her cry?» This time Y/N goes completely crazy. She turns around again, sitting up in the middle of her bed, and grasps his hand with such force it leave little fingerprints on Spencer's pale skin. He hides his smile. «I love you too and yet you left me behind, crying and hoping you'd come with me! You let me cry, you didn't listen to me when I screamed your name because I was fucking scared! - she raises her voce, not caring if someone else hears her – If I confessed that I was in love with you too, what would've done? You would've chosen her either way because you never ever notice me!» Okay, he wasn't expecting any of this. Spencer blinks, noticing the anger mixed with pain inside of her eyes. He has never seen her like this before, not even when she was the one who arrested a paedophile and a rapist that was holding a young little girl hostage. Y/N is terrifying when she's angry. And now Spencer feels even worse because Tara is right. «I always notice you, Y/N.» She scoffs again, shaking her head. «No, you don't but that's fine. You're in love with someone else.» Spencer feels a lump in throat as he asks that question. «Are you in love with me?» Y/N opens her mouth to say something but her phone starts ringing, interrupting the moment. She grabs her cellular and brings it to her ear, keeping her eyes on the beautiful man right in front of her with a horrified expression on his face – he realised that she loves him that way, of course he's disgusted because she's like a little sister for him. «Y/L/N.» «They found a body. We have to go.» Y/N lets out a soft sigh. «We'll meet you downstairs.» She hung up, leaving her phone on the bed as she steps out of it. «We have to go to the police station. - Y/N mutters, taking off her shirt to put on a new outfit that she was hoping to save for the next day – They've found a body.» Spencer quickly nods, dressing up with his usual light blue button up shirt and brownish pants. He doesn't even look at Y/N because if he does, he'll feel his heart break all over again. Is she really in love with him? For how long? And why hasn't she said anything? Is that the reason why she didn't want to talk to JJ and to him? Because she knew about their feelings, and didn't think hers would matter? They do to him because he has spent such a long time crying between her arms about JJ and now.. now he hates himself for hurting her. He really never noticed anything, he didn't think she'd be in love with him or that she would develop feelings for him but he should've. He should've paid attention to her a little more, he should've listened to JJ when she told him that “Y/N really cares for you”, he should’ve known that JJ meant that in a very explicit way. But he didn't. «This conversation is not finished, Y/N.» She moves her hand, dismissing him as she gets out of the bedroom.
   It has been three days since their conversation about her feelings. The case was closed after finding the rest of the children poisoned inside the basement of a kindergarten teacher when one of the mothers got into a heated argument with this said teacher in front of the police. One of the children unfortunately didn't make it. The SWAT barged into his house in the middle of the night but unfortunately all those innocent children were sick, they were vomiting, shaking, and held in horrible conditions. It didn't end well, in Y/N's opinion, but at least not everyone died. Both Y/N and Tara had to step out for a few minutes to distract themselves, too distraught and terrified by the sight right in front of their eyes. Sometimes Y/N hates her job. Seeing all those children held hostages – just like it happened to her a week before – didn't help Y/N with her mood, but at least she and the team caught the culprit and now he's going to die behind the bars, hopefully beaten up before by the prisoners. The mood of the whole team is quite low, probably lower than ever. Case involving children are often not as easy as cases with adults. Dealing with mothers, fathers, uncles, brothers, sisters, aunts is definitely more difficult than dealing with husbands and wives, but unfortunately a lot of psychos love to hurt children. So it's not the first time that the Team is involved in children cases – even though they usually not end this badly, sometimes it happens. Y/N has grown a very tough skin – and so have the others, of course – so she'll get over it soon. «I can't believe someone would do something like this.» Rossi whispers Tara nods, lowering her eyes. «A teacher. Crazy.» «It's not the first time that it happens. This case was actually quite similar to what happened in Hong Kong a year ago. A kindergarten teacher poisoned two dozen pupils, killed one after a dispute with a colleague over “student management questions” and also poisoned this colleague with the same exact poison they used on the children. - Spencer starts to say, capturing everyone's attention – The teacher added nitrite to their bowl of rice just like our unsub did, but didn't held the children in the basement.» Y/N can't stop looking at him. And he can't stop looking at her. «Still, I think it's absurd that a teacher could do something like this “because he hates her job”. If you hate your job, if you're frustrated, if you're already going to therapy and you lie to your doctor, what's the point in staying in here? What's the point in working with people that make you angry? - Emily says, taking a sip of her water – It's honestly so terrifying.» «I agree. But at least now this bastard is behind bars. - Y/N chimes in the conversation, blushing when Spencer turns to look at her – I hope they kill him the first night.» He gives her a little smile, nodding. «I hope so too, to be honest.» Then, Matthew, Luke and Rossi try to take a nap on the flight back home. Y/N, Prentiss, Tara and Spencer are only ones who are still awake – even though Emily is about to fall asleep, leaned against the glass next to her, and Tara is focused on her book. «JJ did the right thing. - Y/N says, capturing Tara's attention – She couldn't have helped much in this case, she would've been too terrified and horrified.» Spencer nods in agreement. «Yes. She did the right thing in staying at home.» «I just hope we won't have any more cases until next week. - Tara mutters, making Y/N and Spencer smile at her words – This case was tough. We need a few days to rest our heads and stop thinking about it, don't we?» Y/N clicks her tongue, nodding. «I absolutely agree with you. We could go out this weekend.» Prentiss takes off her earphones. «Did I just hear someone propose we all go out?» Spencer chuckles at her reaction, nodding. «I'm in.» The others are already too far gone, sleeping or focus on the music play in their ears. Y/N turns her head to look at Spencer, finding him smirking because she was the one that suggested to go out and he basically accepted, even though they haven't had a decent conversation ever since their first fight. They shared the bedroom but they never spoke to each other again – if not to update the other about something involving the case or one of their colleagues. Y/N didn't mind spending all of her time working on something, taking her mind off everything that happened between them and the mess she has caused, but she missed Spencer. She missed talking to him, being with him, enjoying a cup of coffee with him without actually thinking about those words haunting her and her heart. Spencer, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about what Y/N told him. “You let me cry, you didn't listen to me when I screamed your name because I was fucking scared!” And then she hinted that there was something deeper than that. When he told her that he always notices her, she replied with a simple “you don't, you're in love with someone else” and then their conversation got interrupted by her phone ringing. He didn't have the chance to talk to Y/N again about this, but that thought kept creeping up in his mind every single time they were in the same bedroom and she was sleeping on the other side of the room, with her back to him and her face to the wall. Spencer didn't have the courage to talk to her, to ask her what she meant by those words, scared to find out that he had hurt her in that sense. What if she has been in love with him all along and he never noticed anything? Y/N stands up from her seat, walking towards the empty couch in the back of the jet. She takes off her shoes and sits back, laying her head against the soft pillow behind her head as Spencer follows her and takes place right beside her. «What are you doing?» He shrugs, lifting her legs so she can rest them on his thighs. «I'm keeping you company.» Y/N blinks, already annoyed by his presence and his words. Is he doing all of this just because he feels guilty for leaving her all alone? «You don't have to. - Y/N replies, crossing her arms to her chest – I'm not going to talk to you.» He tilts her head, giving her a little smile. «Actually, you are talking to me now.» She stares at him for a second, then she rolls her eyes. She's very tired and she just wants to fall asleep for a few hours before having to deal with everything that revolves around her anger and her pain. But Spencer, on the other hand, is waiting for her to keep their conversation going; he wants to know more, he wants to know why, when, how and he can't ask her those things. First, because he knows she won't say anything. Second, because it'll upset her even more. Third, because he wants to be able to tell her the truth. Fourth, he needs to know if she meant that “I love you”. Because... he can't stop asking himself if he has never seen a single sign of her being in love with him. He has always thought that she was just friendly, very attached to him – but not in a romantic way. Spencer is not in love with her, his feelings are not that intense for her, but he definitely likes her more than he should. He has always known it, ever since she joined the team and got really close to him through the years, but never paid too much attention to it. Mainly because he was too busy longing for JJ, hoping that someday she'd leave Will – but now Spencer knows it'll never happen. So? Should he give Y/N a chance? Yes. Maybe? No, because she could think he's doing this to substitute JJ and he's not. Spencer lets out a silent sigh, slowly touching her knee. «Y/N?» She hums, closing her eyes as she leans back on the couch. «Hm?» «Can we talk?» «Too tired. - Y/N mutters, lifting the blanket so she can cover her body – Also, I don't want to talk to you because it's pointless. I have nothing else to say.» He tips his index on her knee, trying to keep her awake. «Please? I'll cook for you.» She opens one eye. «Stop bribing me, it won't work. And stop pressuring me, it's annoying.» «I'm not pressuring you, Y/N. I want to fix this situation because I hate fighting. - Spencer says, his voice stern – I'm tired of getting the side eye by you, it's exhausting. I miss my friend.» Y/N kicks his thigh, rolling her body so she can step down from the couch. She doesn't care about what he wants, she just wants to be left alone dealing with her feelings. If he hates fighting that much, why doesn’t he realize that it's not easy to tell the truth? To face the truth? «And I miss having my personal space on the jet.» Spencer blinks, watching her as she pulls away. «Y/N.» She doesn't turn around, sitting near the window as she wraps herself in the warm blanket. Why is it so hard for him to let her go for a few days? Why can't he just let her be? Y/N knows that it's frustrating having someone angry at you without them explaining the reason, but she just wants to let the anger vanish a little bit before actually having a conversation about it. Is it so difficult? Y/N puts on her earphones on and closes her head, leaning her head against the window as she feels his stare burning her skin and strip her down from all of her clothes. She doesn't like when he looks at her like that, because he's studying her – and she doesn't want to be profiled. Even though Spencer has tried to analyse her many times, he has never actually told her anything because he knew she'd get really pissed off. “I already have a psychologist, I don't need you.” - Spencer remembers her teasing him like that, forcing him to stop staring at her as if he was trying to read her mind. As she starts to drift off to sleep, she feels an arm wrapping around her shoulders. She opens her eyes, noticing that Spencer is sitting beside her and he's helping her leaning down against her body. This time, she doesn't react. He steals one of her earphones and places his head on top of hers, holding her tightly to his chest as Y/N cuddles up against him. There's no point in fighting anymore, she's really tired – and she was on the verge of actually falling asleep, so she's not in the mood to push him away again. The music is playing through her earphones. “My mind is a cage to me, so thank God I met you. Let's die old together.” Spencer leaves a kiss on her forehead, focusing on the words of the song they're listening to. He doesn't recognize the voice of the singer – mainly because he doesn't usually listen to pop music, but this music is making Y/N smile. She puts a hand on Spencer's chest, pulling his body closer to hers. “Honey, I'm sorry if I ever let you down, for every time I messed you around.” He lowers his eyes, looking at the reflection of her all over his body on the window. He feels really bad for letting her down, for making her think that she's not enough for him or that she goes unnoticed. “So say what you need to say. The needle will find the vein, I want to be whole again. No?” Spencer runs his hand down her arm, feeling her hot skin against his fingers. She snuggles up against his body, pressing a little kiss at the base of his neck as Spencer holds her as tightly as he can. The song has ended but a few seconds later another one starts – probably by the same artist, because the voice is exactly the same. «You can change the song if you don't like it.» Y/N whispers with her mouth pressed on his neck Spencer bites his bottom lip, shrugging. «I don't mind it, actually.» She simply nods and closes her eyes again, letting her muscles and her mind relax. “If you don't know where you're going, you're scared of what you might find.. If you feel like an island, stuck in a maze in your mind, when you drown, I'll drown.” His heart beats a little faster as he slides his hand down on her back. Y/N is starting to fall asleep again between his arms, her head now pressed on his chest and her hand on his thigh right on top of his other free hand. “We started as a fever, we turned into an ache that never goes and if I couldn't fix it, I guess, well now you're better off alone.” Y/N tightens her hand on his chest, grasping his shirt when the singer speaks those words. “When you drown, I'll drown.” Y/N has never related more to a song than that one before. She has said it many times that she'd die for Spencer, she'd gave up her life to make him happy and to keep him here. So if he drowns, she'll drown beside him. This is exactly how much she loves him. “And I know you'll fall in love again. When you do, I hope you'll find somebody who you can love like I love you.” She wonders if JJ loves Spencer as much as Y/N does. Even though she joined the team a year later than her best friend, every little thing she has done was for Spencer. Every thought, every word spent was for him and for him only. Y/N just wonders if he ever noticed that, if her efforts were really useless or they hit home. Spencer intertwines their fingers, closing his eyes. He doesn't know if Y/N chose that song willingly, knowing that he would steal one of her earphones and keep her company. He doesn't care, actually, but it feels like this song is dedicated to him – by her. As if she's telling him that he will fall in love and that she hopes she'll find someone he will be able to love as much as she loves him. Is she in love with him? Spencer remembers that she didn't reply to that question, but he clearly remembers her body language before the phone rang. Her lips were slightly open, her shoulders were tensed, she had an angry expression on her face that vanished when he asked her that question. Her eyes were full of tears ready to slip down but they didn't, because the moment got interrupted. And Spencer has never hated anything more in his life than that stupid phone. She is in love with him. Spencer just wants her to be honest with him. He needs to hear those words come out from her lips, rolling off her tongue with her eyes on his face. But if he does, how will he react? “You imagine when you close your eyes, you're with me on the other side so why won't you love me?” Spencer knows that Y/N is now sleeping between his arms so he opens his eyes, noticing that Prentiss and Tara have just fallen asleep. Rossi, Matthew and Luke are discussing over something Spencer can't quite understand – mainly because he's too focused on the song play through the earphones that she and he are wearing. “The time disappears, you hold back the tears. Your best girlfriend just got engaged.” Spencer's heart drops in his chest. He remembers the day he went to Y/N's house and broke down in front of her because JJ got married to Will. Y/N wasn't surprised to see him crying because of her, but he recalls her being extremely happy to see him right in front of her when she opened the door. Was she expecting him to do something in particular? Was she happy to spend some time with him because she was, and maybe still is, in love with him? Spencer should've known better. “You say you can't wait and need to make a change. You told me it's so hard to be lonely, so why won't you love me?” It's like a wake up call. It feels exactly as if Y/N is actually asking him why won't he love her. “Can you tell me why, my love? Can you tell me why I hold on to you and you hold on to me?” He has had enough. Spencer lets out a soft sigh, slowly pulling away from the hug. He helps Y/N resting on her seat, covering half of her body with her blanket, and places a kiss on her forehead as he takes off his earphone and places it on the table in front of her. Rossi notices Spencer standing up from his seat, walking towards them. «Kid, are you okay?» Spencer nods, sitting on the couch in front of their table. «Never been better.» Luke and Matthew exchange a long look but they don't say anything, not wanting to bother the young doctor who's now laying down with eyes closed. Spencer needs to take a nap and forget everything for a moment, because he really doesn't know what to say or what to think about his situation.
    Y/N turns off the lights in her kitchen and walks back to her living room, sitting on her couch with her mug filled with hot camomile to enjoy a nice episode of Drag Race. She got home two hours ago from the case and she deserves to relax, especially because she has to go back to work after the weekend and let murders, homicides, tortures back in her mind. Outside is raining. After stepping down from the Jet, Y/N waved goodbye to all of her colleagues and ignored Spencer because, when she woke up from her nap, she found herself alone. She was hoping that he'd by her side, that his face would've been the first thing she'd see before actually having to stand up and go down the Jet, but he didn't. He wasn't with her. Y/N wonders if he felt uncomfortable with her laying that way on his chest. He was more than happy to have JJ on his body. But of course, Spencer is not in love with Y/N the way he's in love with JJ. Actually, Spencer has never been in love with Y/N so it's totally different what they have from what him and Y/N have. Y/N grabs her phone. What if she calls JJ? And before she could actually hesitate, her fingers type her friend's number. «Hello?» Y/N bites her bottom lip. «Hey.» «Oh, hi Y/N. Are you home now?» JJ's voice is just like melted honey, no wonder Spencer loves her that much. «Yes, I came home a couple of hours ago. - Y/N says, turning off the TV – I wanted to talk to you.» «Me too. I don't like what's happening between us, I was hoping we could fix this.» A thunder booms, echoing through the room as Y/N stands up from her couch and grabs her mug to go back to her bedroom. She doesn't like thunderstorms – she's terrified of thunders, let's be honest. «I know that I should've told you the truth since the beginning but I didn't want you to think that I was going to do something and take away Spencer from you. Or that I was jealous and wanted you to step away from him, you know. - JJ says, making Y/N's heart drop in her chest – It's my fault that things have been weird between me, you and Spencer. I should've never said those words but that's what came out from my mouth. And I'm so sorry if I hurt you. I swear on my soul that it was the last thing I wanted to do to you, because you're my best friend and I know how much you love Spencer.» Y/N's lips tremble as she first tear escapes from her eyes. «I was prepared to take that secret to the grave but now it's out. - JJ says again, as Y/N prepares for what is coming next that will break her again – I can't lie to you and say I didn't mean it, because I did. I do love him. He's my first love and I will always love him.» Of course she loves him. «I love William and I love my boys, too. They made me who I am, and so did you and Spencer. - JJ adds, pain filling her voice – You will always be a big part of my heart. I want you to know that I've never meant to hurt you, I want you to be happy. That's why I never told you.» Y/N doesn't have the courage to open her mouth and say anything because she can feel the pain, the sadness in JJ's voice. And as much as Y/N wants to hate her for not speaking the truth, she understands the reason why JJ never said a single thing to her. «There will never be more than a friendship between Spencer and I. - JJ says, hoping that her friend would say something instead of remaining silent – But you should tell him the truth, Y/N. He's confused, he doesn't know how to behave around you and he misses you. More than you can think of.» Y/N sniffles, sitting on the edge of the bed as she places her mug on the nightstand. Her cheeks are stained by her tears, her heart is beating a little too fast in her chest and her hands are shaking because she doesn't know what to do. «He will never love me the way that he loves you.» Her voice is nothing but a whisper and JJ knows that she messed up. Bad. «Y/N, our love is platonic. We'll never be together. I belong to Will, I'm in love with Will. - JJ says, hoping to give her friend some comfort – Your first love isn't always going to be your best and deepest love. I love Will more than I love Spencer, you know that. I will never forget Spencer, and how he has made me feel, but he was just a learning experience. Will is the man I will always want by my side.» «That doesn't change anything, Jennifer. If I tell Spencer the truth...» Y/N wipes her cheeks with the back of her free hand, sniffling again. «He might understand why you stopped talking to him in the past few weeks. It'll help him understand that he has been oblivious towards you. - JJ explains to her – And he might understand that you mean more to him than you think. Don't push him away, it'll hurt both of you.» Y/N looks up at the ceiling, letting out a soft sigh. «I don't want to push him away but I can't.. I can't stand him being near me. I don't want to look at him and see that weird look on his face, as if he's feeling nothing but pity for me because that's exactly what he feels now.» «He doesn't pity you, Y/N. He loves you.» She shakes her head, lowering her eyes on her shaking hands. «No, he doesn't.» «Talk to him before saying these things. - JJ tells her, urge in her voice – You can be happy with him if you'd allow yourself to tell him the truth. I know it's hard, I know it's scary and you don't want him to stop talking to you if you reveal him how you feel but... You'll never know.» Y/N bites her bottom lip. «He will hate me.» «What? No! He would never hate you, Y/N. Why would you think that?» JJ asks The other girl shrugs, laying down on the bed as another thunder echoes through the room. «He'd think I'm stupid, JJ. Because the woman he has always loved declared her love for him, and now also his other best friend is telling him that she's in love with him.» «Listen to me, Y/N. And listen clearly. - JJ tells her, forcing the girl to actually stop fidgeting with her fingers and listen to her words – If I have to choose the person I want to Spencer to have by his side for the rest of his life, it'd be you. And you know why?» «No.» «Because you love him beyond any limit. Because he means everything to you. Because you saved his life many times and you've always been there for him when heeded you. - JJ says as Y/N turns to her side, biting her bottom lip – You love him more than I love him, probably more than I love Will.» Y/N stares at the window in front of her. «But he doesn't love me, JJ. Telling the truth to him is just as pointless as talking about him with you.» «Y/N...» «I have to go now. I'll see you on Monday.» Y/N hung up the phone and leaves it on the nightstand, sitting up on the bed as she grabs her mug to take a sip of her camomile. It's not as hot as it was before, it's more drinkable and it doesn't burn her throat as she drinks it. Luckily. Her phone rings again but this time is a text from JJ. “You're my best friend and I love you. Don't ever forget that.” Y/N quickly types back: “I love you too.” She stands up, pacing back and forth inside of her bedroom. She keeps thinking about what JJ told her, about how the truth would help him understand why she is behaving like that – and Y/N knows that by remaining silent it'll only be worse, because it'll push Spencer away, but it's also more difficult do it instead of just talking about it. It's all abstract, conceptual. A thought. But what if JJ is right? What if something changes between them? She will never know unless she tells Spencer the truth. And maybe it's time for her to reveal him her feelings, 10 years is a very long time to hide a secret that could change forever her relationship with them so... Y/N guesses that it's time. Her doorbell rings. Y/N furrows her eyebrows, stepping out of her bedroom with her mug in a hand. She walks towards the door and turns around for a single second, looking at her gun gently placed on the furniture right next to the kitchen door. Should she grab it? «Y/N! Open the door!» Is that Spencer's voice? What the fuck is he doing here? She grabs her keys, fumbling with them as she slowly opens the door. And there he is, standing completely drenched in water, staring at her as if she's alien just arrived on Earth. «What are you doing here?» Spencer takes a few steps ahead as she backs away. «I'm tired of fighting with you, I told you.» Y/N opens her mouth but before she can actually say something, he puts both hands on her cheeks and brings his lips overs hers. At first she's surprised because, what the hell does he think he's doing? But then she realizes that she has been waiting for this moment ever since her eyes met his. She needed this kiss, she needed to taste his soft lips and now that she's actually doing this, she knows she'll be forever doomed. Y/N forgets about everything and melts into the kiss, placing a hand over his chest and the other one right behind his neck so he can't pull away . She wasn't expecting him to come to her house while it's raining and there's a thunderstorm, but she won't push him away. All of her anger, her sadness, her pain, her disappointment, her jealousy over JJ and the relationship she has with him. Everything disappears, leaving her with desire burning through her body and her eager lips attached to his in a kiss that is getting desperate, lustful. Her heart flutters in her chest as she grabs him by the collar of his button-up blouse, forcing him to come inside of her apartment. She slams the door shut behind his back and closes her eyes, feeling both his hands come down to her hip as he pushes his body against hers. This is exactly what she needed, that little push. «Spence, Spence.. - she mutters as he slowly pulls away from her mouth – Kiss me again.» And he obeys, pressing his mouth on hers as he slides a hand behind her neck. She tilts her head back a little. Y/N lets him do whatever he wants, opening her mouth so his tongue can slip inside and meet hers in a more heated kiss. She savours his minty taste, scared to find any trace of alcohol or anything. But no, he's actually sober and he's kissing her because he wants to – and not because he doesn't know what he's doing. She backs away until they're in the living room, sitting on the couch of her apartment. He moves his hand slowly, listening to her soft moans against his mouth while they kiss. Y/N tastes sweet, like warm honey, and it makes Spencer melt into the kiss. The kiss grows heated when Spencer taps his legs, ordering Y/N to sit on his thighs. She does, wrapping both arms around his neck to pull her body closer to him, and she grinds against his hip as his hands ends up on her bottom. Y/N blushes, knowing that this could actually mean that he wants to go further – so she stops. Because they can't do that. «What are you doing here?» asks her, almost breathless Spencer gulps, caressing his cheek with the tip of his fingers. «Isn't this what you wanted?» Y/N blinks, slightly parting her lips. «What do you mean?» «Us, together. Don't you want to be with me? Because you're jealous of JJ?» inquires the doctor So he kissed her because he thinks this is just what she wants, because she knows that JJ would never cheat on Will therefore she will never kiss Spencer. He didn't kiss her because he wants her, he kissed because... Just because. Y/N stares at him, not even knowing how to reply to his questions. Of course she wants to be with him, but not because she wants to show JJ that she can get him. No, Y/N wants to be with Spencer because she's in love with him – but right now he's acting like a fucking dickhead and she doesn't even want him near her. So she sits back on the couch, pulling as far from him as possible. She needs to put some distance between them or she'll want to kiss him again – forgetting about what he just said. «Do you think that I want to be with you just because I'm jealous of JJ?» Spencer shakes his head. «That's not what I meant, Y/N.» «Then why did you kiss me? - she crosses her arms to her chest – Why are you here?» He raises an eyebrow. «I want to fix whatever happened between us. I'm trying to understand what is wrong with you because you haven't talked to me and JJ in two weeks. We've done everything in our power to...» Y/N stands up from the couch, feeling sick. «”What is wrong with me”. Do you want to know what the fuck is wrong with me, Spencer? Do you want every little ounce of truth?» «Yes, for fuck's sake! - he exclaims, widening his eyes when he notices she's getting angry – I want the truth, the only truth because I'm tired of playing these guessing games. If you have something against me or JJ, just say it!» «I am in love with you, you fucking dickhead!» The room goes incredibly silent after her words, it seems like the air has been sucked out.
Y/N is panting, the vein on her neck is popping and her heart is burning in her chest, ready to jump out of her throat as her legs start to feel wobbly, as if she can't stand straight. Did she really screamed that she's in love with him? And why is he staring at her as he's terrified? Is she doing something bad? She decides to go on because now there's no possible way to back. «I'm angry at you because you never noticed what I've done for you. You didn't notice me while I was crying out and calling your name while that psychopath was ready to slice my throat and threatening to kill me. You didn't notice me while I was shaking and having a fucking panic attack outside of the shop, after being kidnapped. - Y/N mutters, pointing her index finger to his face – You didn't notice me when I organized your birthday party because you were too busy thanking JJ for doing actually nothing. You didn't notice me bring you coffee every single morning before entering the bullpen with the others.» Her whole body is burning with anger. «You've always acted like she was the only person in the world, the only woman worthy of your love and your attentions. And I get it! I get it that you are in love with her, but why have you never noticed me? What am I to you, if nothing more than a colleague after all I've done for you? - she asks, her cheeks now stained with tears – So no! I don't want to be with you because I'm jealous of JJ and I want to steal you from her. I want to be with you because I'm in love with you, because I deserve happiness for once in my life.» Spencer is silent, totally speechless. «I bet you even forgot about the kiss we shared last year at Rossi during New Year's Eve. - she mutters, noticing his confused expression – See? You don't even care.» He stares at her, his mouth open and his eyes now empty. He wasn't expecting her to scream that way, to reveal everything she has been bottling up inside of her – well, he wasn't expecting her to say those things to him. He thought she had some family problems, boy problems but not boy problems with him. Now Spencer understands why Tara told him that she was in love with him. «Do you remember when JJ brought you the Divina Commedia in Italian? Well, it was not her. It was me, she just gave the book to you but I bought it because I knew you wanted to read it in the original language. Do you remember when I stayed over to your place for two weeks because you weren't feeling well after what happened with Maeve? I did it because I cared for you and I hated seeing you so sad, terrified and shaken up. Do you remember when you found that black glass mug from Murano on your desk? It wasn't Garcia, it was me. I knew you saw it at that market and I thought you'd love it. - Y/N says again, adding more things to weight over his heart – Do you remember when I called in sick because you were having a bad day over your mother? Do you remember when I followed you to your house because you were too hungover and needed someone by your side? Do you remember when JJ got married and you stayed with me through the whole time? And then you came over to my place, crying and feeling your heart getting crushed.» Y/N takes a deep breath, biting her bottom lip when he lowers his eyes. «Do you remember when I asked you to come to my house when I had that big fight with my mother, less than a year ago? Do you remember when I got shot in the thigh the same day JJ fell down and broke a rib? Of course you don't remember, because you never came. - she spits with such venom in her voice, trying her best not to lash out at him – Do you remember when that sociopath threatened me with a knife to my throat but you were too busy eye-fucking JJ because she declared her love to you?» Spencer stares at her, not able to reply to her words. «Y/N, I...» «You never cared for me the way that I care for you, Spencer. - she tells him, crossing her arms to her chest as she tries to breath in deeply – And it's completely fine, I know that an unrequired love hurts more than anything in the world as I'm the same situation as you if not worse because at least you know that she loves you back. But don't come to my house, kissing me and then calling me “jealous” as if I'm a teenager.» He stands up from the couch, walking towards her as she backs away. She doesn't want him to come near her but at the same time, she's dying for him to touch her again. And she hates it, because she shouldn't want this. If he does touch her, if he kisses her again, she knows it doesn't mean anything to him – and he's doing this just because he pities her. «I am so sorry.» She looks up at him, a tear slips down her cheeks. «Are you really?» He quickly nods, holding both her hands. «I am sorry for never noticing any of these things. I'm sorry if I hurt you this way, if I gave you the impression of not caring about you. That is not true, I care for you. I do, I love you and I care for you because you are my best friend.» Y/N rolls her eyes, shaking her head as another bitter tear runs down her cheek. «This is the problem, you don't love me the way that I do. And it's completely fine, I can't force you to love me but... you never noticed me.» Spencer tightens his grip on her hands. «I do notice you. I just... I've never thought there could be more from your part. You've never said anything.» «Of course I've never told you the truth! How could I? - she replies, looking at their hands joined together – It doesn't matter what I feel for you, it won't change anything.» He shakes his head, getting closer to her. «It could change something, Y/N. I like you.» She looks up at him, tears still streaming down her face. «No, I'm just your best friend. You said it yourself, Spence. You won't like me the way that I like you.» «Yes, you are my best friend but I like you more than just a “friend”. I know that whenever I'm with you or around you I feel something. Something deeper than just a friendship, I just have never thought you in that sense. - he whispers, looking into her eyes – My love for JJ is platonic. I know I will never be with her because she loves Will. She's always going to be my first love, but you...» Y/N gulps, trying to calm herself down before breaking in front of him. «You're saying this just because you feel bad for hurting me, just because I told you that I'm in love with you.» «No, Y/N. No. I can promise you that this is not bullshit and I'm not lying. You can ask JJ, you can ask Garcia. I've already spoken to them about you weeks and years ago. I told them that I feel something for you but I just... I shrugged it off because I didn't think you care for me in that way. But now that I know.. - he hesitates, looking down for a split second before staring at her again – We can try and see how it goes.» Y/N blinks the tears away, brushing the back of her hand on her cheek. «I don't know if I can really trust you, Spence. I appreciate the romantic entrance, the kiss and all of that, but this is not enough. Words are not enough for me, not anymore.» Spencer nods, placing a kiss on the back of her other hand. «I'll give you all the time that you need, I'm willing to wait for you. Just like you did for ten years.» She breathes in, letting out a soft sigh right after, and pulls away from him. She runs a hand through her hair and walks towards the kitchen, immediately followed by Spencer who takes off his wet coat from his shoulder. Y/N turns around. «May I offer you some tea?» He quickly nods, biting his bottom lip. «I'd love that. And a blanket, perhaps.» «Sure. You must be freezing. - she mutters, placing her kettle on the burner – Take off your clothes, I don't want you to catch a cold or something.» Spencer stares at her as she walks back inside the living room, grasping one of the blankets over her couch, and gives it to him when she joins him in the kitchen. He mutters a simple thank you and wraps the blanket around his shoulders, sitting on the high chair near the table with his eyes still on her face. «You could've followed me home earlier. - Y/N whispers, pouring some warm water inside of a mug – You didn't have to do all of this, you know. I appreciate it, though. It made me feel like I was in a romantic comedy.» Spencer gives her a smile, shrugging. «You're welcome, I guess. And thank you for the tea.» She sits in front of him with her own mug. «I've talked to JJ before you came here.» He looks up, waiting for her to continue the conversation. «I thought you were going to hate me if I told you the truth. I don't know why, I figured you would find my feelings pointless and not real. - Y/N adds, mixing a tablespoon of sugar in her tea – I hope you don't hate me right now.» «Me? Hating you? No, that would never happen. Unless you try to kill me, but I'm pretty sure you would never do that. - Spencer replies, making her smile – Right?» She tilts her head, smirking. «I don't know.» He puts a hand over his own heart. «Ouch. Should I wear my vest every single day from now on?» They both laugh it off, feeling more at ease with each other now. Y/N is still not trusting him, not really believing in anything he had said to her but she can't help but feel a little better, as if a weight has been lifted off her chest. Telling him about her feelings is definitely relieving – especially because he doesn't hate her, and he seems pretty happy to be with her in that exact moment. So? Maybe he's really serious, maybe he has really understood what she went through. «You said that “we can wait and see how it goes”. - Y/N starts to say – Are you talking about going out together? On dates?» Spencer doesn't even hesitate, he nods. «Yes. Dates. I've never been on one before so you have to walk me through it, you know.» She blushes hard, looking down at her mug. «Oh. Well, okay then.» And for the rest of the evening, they sit there in silence, glancing at each other.
Aurora x
Okay, wow, this is actually longer than I thought.
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spenciebabie · 7 months ago
spenciebabie’s blurb masterlist
19 | mar | 2021
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So far there’s 84 on this list and I’m gonna update as I go! I know there’s probably a specific length that counts as a blurb but mine are all somewhere between 300 and 2000 words 
— —
1. Shy season 1/2 Spencer gets gets a lap dance from his co-worker he’s had a crush on forever (no explicit smut) (1000 words)
2. Spencer and Y/N get into a fight after the events of a case (soft angst and shower smut, fingering) (1100 words)
3. Spencer’s had a crush on his next door neighbor forever (implied smut and some descriptions of masturbation) (1600 words)
4. Sub-Spencer sucking on soft domme reader’s titties (tit sucking, hand job) (1100 words)
5. Reader cock-warms Spencer while he goes over files (cockwarming) (960 words)
6. Spencer takes nudes of POC! Reader with his new camera (no explicit smut) (940 words)
7. Spencer teasing you over your underwear (teasing, fingering, mentions of masturbation) (240 words)
8. Spencer loves it when you wear his cardigans (implied smut) (200 words)
9. Spencer giving you a boob massage after a hard day (implied smut) (245 words)
10. Spencer gets jealous (no smut, angst and fluff) (418 words)
11. Spencer fingering his cum back inside you (implied sex, fingering, overstimulation) (226 words)
12. While high at Rossi’s, Spencer confesses his love for reader (implied smut, mostly fluff) (469 words)
13. Reader teases Spencer while they’re out to dinner (teasing, masturbation) (471 Words)
14. The beginnings of Spencer’s innocence kink (implied smut, innocence kink) (290 words)
15. Spencer and reader try to keep quiet while they’re in the same room as Derek (exhibitionism, penetrative sex) (450 words)
16. Spencer shows his innocent young girlfriend that she belongs to him (age gap, jealousy, innocence kink, penetrative sex) (531 words)
17. Spencer with a breeding kink, feeling the bulge he makes in your belly (unprotected sex, breeding kink, belly bulge) (180 words)
18. Spencer punishes you after he finds you touching yourself without his permission (rough sex, masturbation) (612 words)
19. Spencer shows plus-size!Reader just how much he loves her body (implied smut, body image tw) (990 words)
20. Reader accidentally lets the BAU girls in on her and Spencer’s sex life (implied smut, nudes, nsfw themes) (550 words)
21. Spencer taking you from behind while you’re laying on top of him (penetrative sex, fingering) (302 words)
22. Spencer cumming all over you back and taking photos (smut, nudes) ( 384 words)
23. Spencer hears reader moaning his name through the walls (masturbation) (505 words)
24. Spencer shows small chested reader how much he loves her body (fingering, body image tw) (386 words)
25. Spencer loves every part of plus size reader’s body, especially her tits (implied smut, body image tw) (416 words)
26. Spencer and reader have sex in the office (exhibitionism, sex) (314 words)
27. Spencer is determined to make reader squirt (fingering, squirting) (369 words)
28. Spencer is obsessed with Black!reader’s nipple piercings (penetrative sex, cumming on tits & face) (615 words)
29. Spencer has an epiphany about the case while he’s inside you (penetrative sex) (306 words)
30. Spencer spitting in your mouth while he takes you from behind (penetrative sex, spitting) (384 words) 
31. Spencer has had enough of Black!reader’s teasing while they’re on a case (teasing, fingering, choking, nudes) (815 words)
32. Spencer thinks he can hear reader’s vibrator when they’re stuck sharing a room for a case (implied smut, masturbation) (604 words)
33. Domestic Spencer sucking on your tits (tit sucking, implied smut) (464 words) 
34. Spencer drunkenly proposing to you at one of Rossi’s pasts nights (fluff, smut) (570 words)
35. Spencer loves to dirty talk (dirty talk, unprotected sex) (681 words)
36. Spencer and reader’s first time as a married couple (smut, fluff, unprotected sex) (541 words)
37. Sometimes Spencer just needs to cuddle (fluff, light angst i guess) (313 words)
38. Reader and Spencer need to have sex in the offie because they’re trying for a baby (exhibitionism, unprotected sex, semi-public sex) (580 words)
39. Reader gives Spencer a blow job when he wakes up hard after they had to share a bed (hand job, blow job) (802 words)
40. Spencer makes you take a phone call while he’s going down on you (oral, exhibitionism) (938 words)
41. Spencer and reader have to share a bed but they both wake up turned on so she rides him (sub!spencer, penetrative sex) (1361 words)
42. Going down on Spencer while he’s on a zoom call (blow job, exhibitionism) (870 words)
43. Reader has Spencer finger her while they’re stuck in traffic (fingering, exhibitionism, implied sex) (734 words)
44. Spencer punishes you by making you ride the side of the bathtub (teasing, grinding, masturbation, implied sex) (582 words)
45. Spencer x Reader x Emily threesome (penetrative sex, oral, female and male receiving) (890 words) 
46. Cockwarming Spencer while he helps you study (cockwarming, teasing, penetrative sex) (500 words)
47. Spencer making you cum so hard you start crying (crying, penetrative sex) (234 words)
48. Spencer and Reader share a hotel room, but they’re still trying to keep their relationship a secret (fingering, implied sex) (782 words)
49. Spencer punishes you by making you ride a dildo (masturbation, squirting) (871 words)
50. Grabbing Spencer’s little booty when no ones looking (no explicit smut) (386 words)
51. Spencer with a breeding kink & an innocence kink, fingering his cum back into you (smut, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding & innocence kink) (481 words)
52. Derek finds some compromising polaroids in Spencer’s wallet (implied smut, nudes) (600 words)
53. Spencer gets you off in the bath tub (fingering, use of shower-head) (1070 words)
54. Spencer giving you a belly bulge (belly bulge, size kink, unprotected sex) (610 words)
55. Spencer coming home and just wanting to cuddle you (no explicit smut, mostly just fluff, a little angst) (400 words)
56. Pegging Spencer while he wears a maid costume, and giving him a belly bulge with your strap (pegging, fingering; male, belly bulge, size kink) (1452 words)
57. Post-Prison (dom) Reid, taking your virginity (virginity, unprotected sex, fingering) (1500 words)
58. Dom! Reader catches Spencer pocketing a pair of her panties (no explicit smut, teasing, implied smut) (1065 words)
59. Spencer teaches you how to finger yourself (fingering, masturbation, male and female) (1765 words)
60. Dom! Spencer lets you have control so you ride him (morning sex, riding, unprotected sex) (1036 words)
61. Making a sex tape with Spencer (unprotected sex) (1582 words)
62. Professor! Spencer taking your virginity (innocence kink, virginity, dom! spencer, unprotected sex) (2085 words?!?)
63. Riding Spencer’s face while he eats you out (oral female receiving, face riding) (760 words) 
64. Spencer gets a little jealous when he sees you checking out someone else (bi!spencer x bi!reader) (fingering) (652 words)
65. Spencer and Reader aren’t very subtle when they sneak in a quickie in the parking garage (briefly described sex, getting caught-sort of-) (570 words)
66. Reader surprises Dom!Spencer when he arrives home to find her in a maid’s costume (unprotected sex, breeding kink, choking, fingering, scratching) (1560 words)
67. Reader’s been going on dates in a effort to dull her feelings for Spencer, but it only pushes him to finally make a move (unprotected sex, fingering, riding, jealousy) (1275 words)
68. Spencer can’t seem to get himself off, so you offer him a hand (hand job, lots of dirty talk) (925 words)
69. While sharing a hotel room you manage to convince Spencer to play a drinking game (body shots, kissing, implied smut) (1320 words)
70. Spencer uses a vibrator on his innocent girlfriend (penetration with a vibrator, dom!spencer) (1150 words)
71. Spencer fingers you while you try to keep focused on your book (fingering, teasing, sort of dom!spencer) (715 words)
72. While Spencer’s away on a case you video-chat to watch each other ride a pillow (pillow riding, masturbation - male & female) (700 words)
73. Spencer comes home early and surprises you in the kitchen (fingering, unprotected sex) (810 words)
74. Spencer’s been harboring a crush on you for a long time, and sharing a room never helps (implied smut) (860 words)
75. Spencer has a point to prove when Derek assumes the two of you are boring in bed (unprotected sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk) (1000 words)
76. Spencer works up the courage to try domming you for the first time (unprotected sex) (600 words) 
78. Spencer helps reader get better at ‘holding’ her orgasms (fingering, use of a vibrator, edging, penetration) (950 words)
79. The team suspects that reader’s the dom, but G arcia finds out that’s not the case when she drops by unannounced and hears the two inside (unprotected sex, exhibitionism) (1300 words)
80. Inexperienced reader rides Professor!Spencer for the first time in his classroom (unprotected sex) (1560 words)
81. Spencer and reader trade nudes while he’s sleeping in the bed right next to Derek’s (masturbation, male & female, sexting, nudes, exhibitionism) (670 words)
82. A short one about how much Spencer loves to eat you out (oral, female receiving, overstimulation) (250 words) 
83. Dom!Spencer fingers reader after she teases him by wearing skimpy pj’s (fingering, innocence kink, overstimulation) (815 words)
84. Spencer fucks reader up against a window for everyone to see (unprotected sex, exhibitionism) (1060 words)
4K notes · View notes
Shut Me Up
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A/N: Here’s another smutty one-shot. I felt like something a little cliche so here it is. This was so fun to write! I’m still finding my footing in this fandom as a writer but I think I wanna start taking requests, the next fic I have coming out will be a request and I’m having fun with it so shoot me a message if there’s something you wanna see. I’ve just put together my Masterlist so you can check out my other fics there :)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer and Y/N don’t exactly get on well. Will they be able to work out some of their frustration when they’re forced to share a room for the night?
Category: Pure smut baby
Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, name calling, light choking, hair pulling, scratching, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!
Word count: 3850 words
The hotel is somehow worse than usual. It’s got so few rooms that they just narrowly grab enough for the whole team. But few enough that they have to bunk. Y/N didn't love sharing a room but it was better than having nowhere to sleep at all.
Prentiss tosses her a key, “That’s you and Reid” she says it so nonchalant that Y/N almost doesn’t notice it. Once in clicks in her head though she races down the hall.
“Hey, hey wait!” She calls out, a little too desperate, “Emily you can’t put me with Reid. We’ll kill each other.”
She laughs at that, it was on open secret amongst the team that Y/N and Spencer had something of a rivalry going. Bitter sworn enemies apparently. No one really bought it though. People who really truly hated each other would be a lot better at avoiding one another. But Y/N and Spencer could never seem to keep apart for very long.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to put your differences aside for a night.” she waves Y/N off as she heads into her own room, leaving her stranded in the hallway. Contemplating if the reception area might let her crash on the couch, she could even spend the night in one of the SUVs, the seats reclined far enough.
But that was stupid, why should she be the one who had to be uncomfortable, why not Spencer.
When she arrived at the door of her own room Spencer was slumped up against it, he stood up straight once he saw her coming.
“Took you long enough” he spat, reaching to take the key from her but she pulled it back before he had the chance.
“I was on the hunt for alternative sleeping arrangements” she huffs, unlocking the door.
“To no avail I presume?” he jokes but he’s just met with an eye roll.
“I’m taking the bed by the window” she stakes her claim before they even get through the door. Once they’re inside he lets out a chuckle.
“You’re welcome to the side of the bed by the window?” he jokes.
This was infinitely worse than she thought it was going to be. Where there were usually two generally uncomfortable twin beds in these standard small-town motels, instead there was a queen sized bed, staring at them as they stood at the foot of it.
“I get the bed” she says like she’s calling shotgun.
“Bullshit you get the bed, there’s nowhere else to sleep!” he complains.
She takes a second to scan the room, no sofa, no arm chair, the floor is a scratchy carpet. There’s no real option here. “You can sleep on the desk?” she suggests, and she’s not serious about it, but she wouldn’t say no if he agreed.
“Are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.
“Soft mattresses are bad for your back! Maybe it’ll sort out your posture?” she adds.
“There’s nothing wrong with my posture” he groans, massaging his temple.
“Okay sure, you tell yourself that”
They don’t say anything more about it as they unpack. Showering and changing for bed in silence. When Y/N comes out from he bathroom, Spencer is sitting up on one side of the bed, reading through case files by the light of the bedside lamp.
“Are you serious?” she whines.
“Look, we both need rest, just shut up and get over yourself” he says it without looking up from the file in his hand, his finger running over the lines at speed.
She doesn’t respond, she just climbs in on the other side, keeping herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep the distance in between them.
She lies like that for about 45 minutes but sleep’s just not coming.
“Are you ever gonna turn off that fucking light, I thought we ‘needed rest’” she mocks, turning over to look at him, still combing through the files, mumbling to himself every once in a while.
“We’ll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get any sleep” she tries to convince him with a slightly more sincere tone.
This case wasn’t easy, the unsub had been abducting victims he’d met in online BDSM chatrooms. Bodies had been turning up murdered in ways that the victims had previously expressed were turn-ons. Suffocated, whipped, tied up in peculiar ways. There wasn’t much information to go on now, they just had to wait for the next body to turn up but that didn’t keep Spencer from pouring over everything a hundred times.
When he wasn’t being purposefully irritating Y/N honestly admired his work ethic. Just not when it was interfering with her much needed sleep.
“The bare minimum of sleep most humans need to live is just 4 hours in a 24 hour period” he blurts out, still not looking up.
“Well I’m not most humans, so knock it off”
He finally concedes, chucking his files onto the bedside table and shutting off the lamp. It’s now eerily quiet, and all she can hear is the steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.
Enough time passes that she really should be asleep but it’s still not happening. So she’s already beyond irritated when she feels a slight shove against her shoulder.
“Hey, you still awake?” he sounds mischievous, she knows that tone of his voice and she doesn't like it.
“God! I am now! What do you want?” she mumbles into her pillow.
“I’ve just got a question” he says defensively.
She hums and rolls over to face him, he’s wide awake, “Well? Out with it” she encourages, the sooner this is over with the better.
His mouth twists into a smirk as he takes a minute to study her face, “What turns you on?” he asks it sincere, and she has no idea what to do with that.
Rolling her eyes on instinct she groans, “Ugh, are you serious? I was so close to getting to sleep, goodnight asshole.” she turns back around to end the conversation but he can’t leave it there.
“I’m serious actually, just all the talk about it earlier, I wanna know”
She doesn’t move as she speaks, remaining with her back to him in a bid not to engage, “You couldn’t handle that information.” She deadpans.
“Try me” he antagonizes, and that’s enough to set her off. He just didn’t know when to quit.
This could be a fun new way to tease him, is her first thought. Turn him on, leave him wanting, yet another game to add to their repertoire of spite.
“Fine I’ll give.” she turns back to him, staring intently this time, “Here’s one, I really get off on having my hair pulled” she scoots closer so she can lean in and whisper the next part, “like when I’m getting fucked from behind, or I’ve got someone’s cock down my throat. I love having my hair pulled, just the short sharp pain of it.” she sort of moans the last little bit right by his ear before settling back on her own pillow.
“That good enough?” she asks, and she can practically see his breath catch in his chest.
He takes a steady gulp, “Yeah, that was, informative” he breathes.
“And what about you?” she poses, he’s not getting out of this one so easy. He looks shocked, like he didn’t see this coming a mile off.
“Me? Uh—” he stutters, “My back, I get really— I get turned on when someone digs their nails into my back, like scratching and marking” something about seeing him flustered like this is almost endearing.
“I guess we’re both suckers for pain” she winks as she says it, making a move to turn around again in a bid to let the conversation die but he doesn’t give her the chance.
“Tell me another” he pleads, and she’s not sure what his expression means but she might just draw this out, see how far she can can tease this.
“Hmm, nosy aren't we?” she smirks, he doesn't respond, just waits for an answer. She thinks for a moment, “Have you ever choked anyone Dr. Reid?”
His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. She likes this new Spencer, the one that doesn’t seem to have some quip for her every two seconds.
“Well I think you might like it, you’ve got nice strong hands, long fingers too. I feel like they might make it the whole way round my neck if you tried?” her voice is soft like velvet as she speaks. He lets out a short pant, and she can see his eyes flicker down to her exposed throat before quickly coming back to her eyes.
“Does the idea of that turn you on Doc?” she teases.
“I— um—” he’s at a loss for words yet again.
“That’s not an answer now is it?” She taunts him, and moves to turn around once again. Feeling accomplished in her goal, finally about to get some sleep. But she’s barely closed her eyes when she can feel him move. He’s so close behind her that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand slowly reaches around and grasps her throat gently, she moves herself further into his grip on instinct and he runs with it. Using the leverage to pull himself right up behind her, and she can feel it. He’s hard, and she can feel him pushing himself right up against her ass.
“Is this a satisfactory answer?” he moves in close and whispers against her ear. She’s changed her mind, maybe this is her favorite Spencer.
“Mmhmm” she hums in response, and his fingers tighten around her neck. She pushes her ass further back, moving it up and down slightly to create some friction and she can feel him twitching through the thin layer of her nightdress. He starts to move with her, grinding against her, his other hand resting on her hip, fingertips digging in so that he can pull her closer.
She tries to moan when she feels his nails dig into her but it gets stifled in her throat.
“You sound pathetic” he whispers, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re whining like a little slut” her hips buck involuntarily at that. “You like it when I call you names?” he teases.
The hand on her hip starts to pull at her nightdress, inching it up higher and higher until his fingers are on her bare skin. He digs his nails in just slightly and drags them around her thigh, letting them settle right at the hem of her panties.
“I bet if I put my fingers in here I’d find you soaking wet for me already?” When she doesn’t answer he tightens the hand around her throat so that it’s almost cutting off the air supply, then loosens immediately. “Answer me” he demands.
“Yes! Yes!” she moans, anything to get his hands to move where she wanted them.
“That’s what I thought” he laughs and lets go of her completely. Her dress hiked up, breathing ragged. She snaps back around to look at him and he’s already curled up on his side of the bed as though nothing’s happened. Left in shock she sits upright, crossing her arms across her chest.
“What the fuck was that?” she has to stop herself from outright shouting at him.
He turns back to look at her, taking in her sullen expression, “Disappointed are we?” he teases with a smirk. And that look makes her want to kill him.
“You’re such a dick” she huffs, and he sits upright next to her.
“You say that like I didn’t just beat you at your own game?” he tries to fight back.
“You didn’t beat me!” she protests
“Oh really, and how’s that?”
“I could feel you, you were rock hard before you even touched me” she spits it out, because if she turned him on first then somehow this didn’t feel as embarrassing.
“Yeah! Because you were teasing me!” he looks frustrated now,
“Exactly! Because I was teasing you, and you fucking liked it” he just rolls his eyes at that, pretending like it’s somehow not true.
“Shut the fuck up” he groans, running his hands through his hair and letting his head fall back against the headboard.
She quirks an eyebrow and looks straight into his sleepy eyes, “Make me.”
In less than a second his hands are on her again, grabbing and pulling her into his lap. One hand is firmly on her back, holding her tight against his chest, the other is tangled in her hair already. Grabbing fistfuls as their lips work against each other.
It’s heated, and ferocious, full of pent up aggression, or tension, or both.
As his tongue works against hers, she lets her own hands wander over him, finally coming to rest at the back of his head, tangling in his curls. When she grinds down into his lap she can feel his cock still hard beneath her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. She thought it was impossible but it felt harder than it had been earlier.
He breaks apart the kiss and they both take in wrecked breaths, chests heaving. He pulls at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it further up her thighs, grabbing a rough handful of her ass as his hands find the exposed skin there.
“We gotta get this off” he whispers, and she nods, pulling it off over her head so that she’s exposed now. Perched in his lap in nothing but her panties. “Fuck” he moans at the sight. His hands come straight up to grab her tits, rough and exited for a moment before easing up, kneading them, getting used to the weight of them in his hands. He brings his mouth down, leaning in so that he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses along her neck and collar bones, trailing down to the valley between her breasts. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it gently then teasing the bud with his teeth. When he releases it and looks up at her his eyes almost look glazed over, dreamy.
“I’ve always had a thing for your tits” he confesses, his lips coming down to repeat the action on the other nipple.
“Your turn to take your shirt off” she whines as he removes his lips, the cold air hardening her nipples now that he’d teased them. He drags his eyes away from her for a second so that he can peel his shirt off over his head.
On pure instinct she rakes her nails across his now bare chest, leaning in close to place kisses into the crook of his neck, moving up painfully slow, kissing along the column of his throat, landing on the soft skin beneath his ear. She can feel the moans rippling in his throat against her lips. While he’s stilled beneath her she takes the opportunity to tuck her hands in behind him, digging her nails into his back and dragging them across the skin with force. Certainly leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The noises that escape him might be the best thing she’s ever heard.
“You like it when I mark you up?” she moans into his ear, “When I make you mine?” she can feel wetness pooling between her own legs as she says the words. The very thought of it turning her on more than she ever thought it could.
Clearly he feels the same, something erupts in him and the hands that had been resting on her hips were now lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. He was on top of her now, his hair framing his face as he looked down at her, and she was biting her fucking lip in anticipation.
He almost can’t even look directly at her so he snakes down her body, littering her torso with kisses and licks. Once he lands at her hips he takes the elastic of her panties between his teeth, pulling it up and letting it go so that it snaps against her stomach. She lets out a low moan.
“Let’s see if I was right earlier, how wet are you for me?” his voice is low as he places small kisses over the cotton, making his way right in between her legs. He pulls back for a second to inspect the fabric, there’s a damp patch covering the majority of the area, as if he didn't know already. “You’re fucking soaked Y/N” he groans and presses his fingers right up against it, forcing the fabric between her folds so that it soaks up even more, “Such a needy little thing aren’t you?”
She can only let out a small whine in response, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she was afraid she might start bleeding.
“Better get rid of these, don’t you think?” he hooks his fingers into either side of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He takes them and places them on his pillow before returning to his position between her legs.
He’s slow and deliberate in his actions, teasing painfully as he places sloppy kisses on the delicate skin inside of her thighs. Stopping right at the top to nip and suck enough to leave a bruise. Taking the time to stop and leave a matching bruise on the other thigh.
She was starting to grow restless, she felt like she was literally aching for any stimulation at all.
“Spencer” she whines, “Please, I’m so fucking turned on already”. She can feel him chuckle, his exhale sends a burst of cold air right against her pussy.
“So impatient” he chastises, but gives in anyway. Laying his tongue flat against her, taking a moment to taste her before he starts to move. Licking deft strokes along her folds, alternating with sucking softly on her clit.
“Spencer, fuck, oh my god” is all she can muster as her back arches up off the bed, her hips squirming as he pins them down. “You feel so fucking good”
He takes the encouragement and brings a finger to her entrance, pushing it in at an agonizing pace, curling it upwards against her once it’s fully inside. “You’re so fucking tight Y/N, do you think you could even handle another finger?” he has to take his mouth off of her to speak but it’s worth it for the downright filthy sounds she makes in response. He takes that as a yes and slowly pushes two fingers in this time. Bringing his lips back down to wrap around her clit and suck.
Her hands fly down to his curls as he works his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. She grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls them harshly, not knowing where else to put the energy. “Fuck Spencer, feels so good, don’t stop” she mutters between gasps.
He continues his ministrations and he would be lying if he said the feeling of her hands pulling at his hair weren’t doing something for him.
A moment later and she’s barely able to control her movements, thrashing in the bed as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her, relishing the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Once she’s relaxed again he takes his fingers out, bringing them up to her lips, without telling her to she opens her mouth, taking the two fingers in, letting her tongue move around them to taste herself.
It’s one of the many memories from tonight he knows he wont forget anytime soon. Or ever.
“I can see why you like it” he says, leaning over her, talking into the crook of her neck, “having your hair pulled, feels fucking amazing” she lets out a weak laugh, regaining her strength.
“Told you you liked pain” she reaches down between them, grabbing his cock through his boxers, “You must’ve really liked it” she teases, squeezing as his eyes flutter shut and he nods.
He maneuvers a little so that he can take off his boxers, and finally she gets to see it. It’s perfect, bigger than she expected, it looks painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. He moves back to hover over her, lingering for a minute to take her in. She thinks there might be something almost sweet behind his expression.
“Just fuck me already” she smirks up at him and he rolls his eyes without even meaning to.
“Will you ever stop antagonizing me?”
“If you fuck me maybe?”
With that he leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue as it tangles with hers. She can feel him push up against her, the head of his cock just teasing at her entrance before sinking in so slowly she was almost angry.
“Fuck Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me” he’s whispering right into her hear and she can barely string together a sentence.
“Spencer, you’re so big, fill me up so good with your fingers, with your cock, fuck” as he starts to move they both start to lose it, her hands digging into his back, her nails sinking into his shoulders leaving small half-moons in his skin. He finally starts to build a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, filling the room with the pornographic sounds of skin on skin, coupled with their moans.
Once she can feel the familiar feeling building within her again she starts to lose control completely, her nails scratching marks into the expanse of Spencer’s back, hearing the little breathy gasps he lets out each time she does might be enough to make her cum all on their own.
“I’m close” she mewls, letting her head fall back against the pillow, exposing her neck, eyes screwing shut.
“Fuck, me too” he takes the opportunity presented to him, and wraps one of his hands around her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.
“Ahh, fuck” she breathes out with the little air that she has, “gonna cum” and she does, he can feel her tighten around his cock, her body writhing beneath his and arching up off he bed as he continues to fuck into her.
He’s following behind just a second later, spilling into her as he collapses back down, releasing his grip on her throat completely and settling on her chest.
They both take a moment. Melting into one another, steading out their breathing.
It’s Y/N who breaks the silence, “So you’ve always had a thing for my tits then?”
He cranes his neck up to look at her, “Shut up” he breathes, laying his head back down on her chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down.
“Now you know how to make me.”
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imagining-in-the-margins · 9 months ago
Opposing Counsel (Reid Request)
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reader went to school w/ spencer & she was just as smart as him so they often competed and argued. later spencer runs into her on a case & their old habits return, just for it to end in smut
a spencer fic that isn’t all fluffy and mushy gushy like maybe just pure angst and fucking
A/N: I made Reader a lawyer because of course I did. I wanted to write a hatefuck scene, and a defense attorney made sense. Hope you both enjoy! Ignore legal inaccuracies/flourishes. I’m too tired to think about the law. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut. Just smut. (NSFW) Content Warning: Fingering, penetrative sex, hate fucking, courtroom proceedings, death penalty/institutionalization mention Word Count: 4.4k
No matter how much time I spend in courtrooms, they have never felt comfortable. They are, by nature, brimming with the worst kind of energy. It is impossible to not feel the pain that flows from all of their openings, and the way the walls scream with the combative words in proverbial fights to the death. Or, in some cases, literal fights to the death - just like the one I was currently winding up.
“You may read the verdict.”
When the judge gave the instruction, I didn’t look at the jury. I didn’t need to look at them anymore because their sympathy from this point on was useless to me. They had already made their decision, and I was confident it would be the right one.
It was.
“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty of murder in the first degree by reason of insanity.”
“So say you all?” The judge drawled as almost imperceptible whispers spread through the courtroom like a virus.
“Yes, your honor.”
Those whispers, the blend of the extremes of the spectrum of human emotion, haunted me every day. I heard them any time my brain tried, although you wouldn’t know from looking at me. Lawyers have to be heartless, you see. There is no other way for the system to work. We must defend the evil and the cruel, just in case they are innocent. And if you have a job like mine, then you have to force yourself not to care even if you know they aren’t innocent. The law doesn’t punish criminals; the law punishes those who get caught in a web they cannot wiggle free from.
My job security will always be bad timing, bad people, and law enforcement’s penchant for overzealousness. Any agent who pretends like their ineptitude isn’t responsible for the freedom of bad men is a liar. It is the kind of lie that will burn like acid that leaks from your tongue and fingertips. That’s why lawyers like me have built a layer of callouses and scar tissue, so that when they spew their venom, it doesn’t hurt like it should.
Spencer Reid already knew this about me. He was a profiler, after all. He had to know about the dynamics of defense attorneys and what is required of our psyches. Not only did he know that this was true because of the fact that I sat in front of him and behind the defendant’s table, he knew this because the two of us were far from strangers. I’d known him all my life, and not much had changed about my psychology since we’d seen each other last.
Spencer Reid knew I was a heartless bitch, but that didn’t stop him from leaning over the bar separating me from the spectators and whispering, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Yes,” I whispered back, not letting him see the smile that took over my face, “I’ve won.”
“Court is adjourned.”
My office received a call the next morning that didn’t surprise me in the slightest. He introduced himself as an old friend who was looking to make an appointment to see me. Despite not having an availability, I told my secretary to schedule time for Spencer on my lunch break. While some might believe I made that decision because it was my only free time, that wasn’t the main motivation. I chose lunch because the other employees wouldn’t be there.
Sure enough, when 12:30pm finally arrived, so did Spencer. My door was already open when I saw him with my secretary who seemed puzzled by his appearance. I don’t think she’d been expecting a sweater vest and converse. But I was. It seemed so perfectly suited for the naive boy I remembered.
“Hello, Dr. Reid. You can lock up when you leave, Jess.”
Sensing the tension in the room, she quickly followed my advice. I heard the pattern of shutting doors until all that remained was the soft creaking of the floorboards as Spencer approached me.
“This room suits you.”
I didn’t look up from the files I was arranging. I knew there would be a catch to his statement. He wasn’t complimenting me, because he didn’t do that. It was going to be an insult, and I wasn’t going to entertain the idea that it would catch me off guard. My plan to irritate him was already working. I could feel the anger like spikes reaching through the space between us.
“Nice to see you haven’t changed,” Spencer sneered. “Still a cruel, heartless bitch that only cares about stroking her own ego.”
“Oof. Such harsh words from the sweet little baby,” I laughed. I still hadn’t met his eyes, although he couldn’t seem to take his off of me. “Is someone still mad about yesterday?”
Spencer’s hand grabbing the file in my hand and shutting it made it difficult to ignore him. It was a bold move that admittedly impressed me. I knew my smirk would give him satisfaction, but I flashed it to him, nonetheless.
“He’s going to spend the rest of his life locked in a mental institution, drugged into compliance, just so you could get your not guilty verdict.”
The eye contact between us was bristling with so much hostility that it almost felt like I was back in the courtroom. Except Spencer wasn’t a client or the opposition in the usual sense. Standing from my seat, I walked around my desk until I stood next to him.
“Oh, you know what, you’re right, 187. I should have just let you guys murder him yourselves. Silly me!” I mocked with a ditzy, playful tone that strongly contrasted the topic of conversation. But if he wanted to act like I was an airhead, I’d give him a little show.
Spencer didn’t like my theatrics. He swiftly stepped forward until he could feel my body heat. If he expected me to cower and retreat, he was mistaken. I quite liked the proximity; it made it easier to meet his eyes. I could read everything from that position.
“He murdered innocent people,” Spencer said through clenched teeth. He missed the point, as usual.
“And he’ll pay for it,” I not-so-kindly reminded him, “Just not with his life!”
The rage was evident in every inch of him. Even a fool would be able to tell that Spencer wanted to break me. But there was something else in his eyes, too. A darkness not related to the man whom neither of us would ever see gain.
“God, you’re so fucking ignorant,” he muttered, raising his hand to run it through his hair. I don’t think that’s what he wanted to do with it, though. If my suspicions were correct, and they usually were, he wanted to use that hand on me.
“Don’t get too excited now. You might give yourself away,” I teased as I closed the gap. It was for two reasons— mainly to test out my theory and derive new evidence, but also just because I thought it might be fun to touch him.
I was right about both things. I knew because the holster on his hip wasn’t the only bulge that pressed against my stomach.
Spencer eventually deduced my motives, or at least I’m assuming that was the reason he let himself touch me. Granted, he only did so to shove me back. There wasn’t the faintest glimpse of regret or sympathy in his eyes when I stumbled back in my heels, or when I hit the wall.
“You think you’re so clever,” he muttered, fixing his sleeve that had been disturbed by the action. And although it had been his decision to build distance between us, he closed it shortly after.
When he didn’t come close enough for my preferences, I grabbed his tie and pulled the fabric taut. He didn’t move, preferring to let it dig into the back of his neck over giving me what I wanted. I bit down on my lip to try and stifle a giggle, but he still heard it.
“What’s funny about this to you?” His tone, while stern, wasn’t as devoid of emotion as he might have hoped.
“Nothing. It’s just... you know, Rule 1.8(j) of the Model Rules for Professional Conduct only prohibits sexual relationships with a client,” I explained with a cheeky little shrug. “It doesn’t say anything about the opposing party.”
“You’re a terrible lawyer,” he deadpanned.
I couldn’t disagree. I didn’t even try; I accepted the conclusion openly in my mockery. “And I still beat you. How does that make you feel?”
The distinct sound of grinding teeth hit my ears, and my eyes followed the flow of tensing muscles in his jaw. It was strange, seeing him in short bursts every few years. Each time, his face seemed sharper and colder. I wondered if he thought the same about me. In fact, I wondered a lot about how he saw me. In part because of moments like this, where an obvious tension flooded the room.
What he wanted was obvious enough in the erection he sported, but I didn’t know why, and the thing about lawyers is that we really love those technical details. And what better way to find the information I sought than a few interrogatories?
“Does it make you want to hold me down and punish me?” I asked, mostly just to see his reaction. When he didn’t give me enough of one, I continued. “To force me to beg?”
His feet faltered instantaneously at the suggestion, and he stepped forward like my hold on the tie was suddenly too much for him. I hadn’t pulled him any differently than before; he just wanted to come closer to me.
“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?” I cooed.
I wanted a response, and a response is what I got. Spencer raised his hand again, and this time he didn’t stop it from touching me in the slightest. Despite the fact that I was already against the wall, he pressed his hand flat against the top of my sternum and pressed me impossibly closer to it.
“Shut up,” he growled in such a low register I almost didn’t recognize his voice. 
“That’s not a no,” I laughed, the feeling reverberating through his hand that tried to stop the air from returning to my lungs. If it was meant to stop me, it had the opposite effect. I’d never wanted to goad him on more than I did in that moment.
“Do it, you fucking coward. Fuck me like you’ve only dreamed about.” I said through teeth clenched just like his. When he bowed his head forward and our noses touched, the words continued to fall from my lips with a renewed vigor. “Show me what pathetic things you think about doing to me when you’re alone at night.”
My voice was steadily climbing in volume until I was shouting in his face. Even through the forceful words, I felt his breath on my lips. “I want to hear you scream my name the same way you do when you have your hand down your pants, begging me to help get you off!”
I’ll never know whether it was the volume or the content that broke Spencer’s resolve, but as soon as the last breathless word left my mouth, he forced his lips against mine with enough force that, despite my resistance, my head smashed into the wall behind me.
I let Spencer kiss me as hard as he wanted for approximately 10 seconds. I granted him the smallest win so that when I did finally kiss him back, he’d already exhausted half of that pent up rage. Sure enough, the sudden response from me shocked him enough that he opened his lips, granting my tongue access.
I was a little surprised when he didn’t bite me, but he didn’t. Instead, he just let the kiss devolve into the filthy mess it was always destined to be. His hand on my chest slid up over my neck to hold my jaw up to him, and I gave myself permission to touch him back. Judging from his startled reaction, I don’t think he expected me to immediately grab his dick, but he really should have.
The jump was enough for him to break the kiss and look at me with eyes displaying a very satisfying desire.
“How long have you wanted to do this, 187?”
He paused just long enough to lick his lips at the sight of me biting down on my now bruised bottom lip, but then had the decency to remember that he hated me.
“You know my name, bitch.”
The lovely nickname paired well with his hand forcing its way under my skirt. A low moan rumbled through my chest, and I didn’t bother hiding any sign of my own eagerness. It would have been pointless, considering how quickly he hooked two fingers under my underwear and pulled it to the side.
“But it sounds so nice,” I sighed, retaining my eye contact as I recalled the first time I’d beaten him at something. “Go ahead, try calling me 188 and see how it feels.”
Spencer decidedly did not like that taunt, although two his fingers roughly entering me gave me a bit of a conflicting signal. I could barely care about his response as he started to thrust into me. My head hit the wall again as I lost myself in the feeling that I could only get with him.
“Keep it up and I’ll leave you right here,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over my ear, “dripping wet and begging me to fuck you.”
The parallels to my theories about the contents of his fantasies were not lost on me. I was sure that in his mind, he was winning. He thought that he was turning me into a pathetic, compliant little thing. But in reality, he was giving me everything I wanted. Normally, knowing that I was the one in control would be enough for me, but this time I wanted him to know. I wanted to rub it in his face that even with his fingers steadily pumping into me, I could beat him.
I would always beat him.
“I bet you’re good at it. Have to compensate for the score difference, no?” I teased between heavy breaths.
Spencer immediately removed his hand. I’d expected as much but didn’t regret my decision.   Especially not when those fingers forced their way into my mouth. If I were a betting woman, which I usually am not, I would wager that a large part of him regretted not tasting me himself. To prove to him that this was still the correct decision, I closed my lips around the already soaked digits and worked my tongue between them.
“You think you’re so fucking cute, don’t you?”
Shoving them further into my mouth and holding my tongue down, he continued to spit vitriol-laden words directly in my face. “I don’t know why you even bothered studying anything. You were made for this. You look so good with my fingers down your throat.”
I wanted to laugh, but a moan shook around his fingers, instead. It would work well enough for my purpose, considering it made him smile.
“Bet you’d look even better with something else there.”
The second he voiced my own thoughts, I sprung into action. My hands must have been quicker than he thought they would be, because he looked down at the commotion to find that I’d already undone his belt. He unfortunately didn’t let it go any further.
“How very unbecoming of you,” Spencer chuckled. Removing his fingers from his mouth and pulling his hand from my sternum, he took a step back to look at the state of me, my skirt still bunched up at my hips and my chest filling with the air he’d deprived me of.  
Then, with a slight pout, Spencer just shrugged.
“I changed my mind,” he said as he started to walk away. “Clearly you aren’t good at this, either.”
For a moment, I almost let him leave. But then I realized that if he left, I would only partially win. While he wouldn’t get to have what he really wanted, he would have had my submission. And if I was going to leave this encounter with less dignity, I might as well get some sexual gratification.
“Worried you won’t be able to satisfy me, Dr. Reid?” I called, dragging out his name with his favorite little honorific.
Spencer froze mid-step. I could actually see the tension hit him, and I watched with glee as he let it slowly wash away. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes shamelessly still fell to my exposed thighs. His thoughts were so apparent, his desires so suffocating in their flagrancy.
“You talk too much for your own good.”
“That’s still not a no,” I sang.
He tried not to show it, but a playful glint appeared in his eyes and in the shine of his smile. As if to wave a white flag, Spencer turned back and began approaching me, this time slowly and with purpose. When he was back in arm’s reach, he didn’t stop. He pressed his body against mine again and I basked in the warmth of winning.
“Give me one reason I should give you anything that you want.”
Then he touched me with no violence. His fingers drifted up my neck and under my chin, lifting it to force me to look up at him no matter the height difference. All he wanted was my neck bared to him, granting him even the faintest hint of dominance in this encounter.
I could lean into that. A little bit, anyway.
“Because you want it even more than I do,” I said with shaky breath. It was obvious that he didn’t believe me, and I was growing impatient at his own insecurities. Allowing my legs to fall open, I hooked one around his to pull him closer.
“Yes, that is me admitting that I want it.” I said as clearly as I could. When he still showed hesitance, I went straight for the kill. He would consider it a win, but I would just consider it leverage.
“I want you, Spencer.”
Watching his pupils blow wide at the sound of his name on my tongue was far more gratifying than it should have been. Thankfully, he didn’t gloat for long. He had better things to do with his time, like attaching his mouth to my neck and covering it with open-mouthed kisses.
While his hands quickly undid the buttons on my blouse, I finished what I’d started earlier. It was such a blur, an organized chaos of buttons and zippers that ended with us both significantly more exposed in more way than one. After all, we’d spent so much of our lives as outright enemies. Opposing parties unwilling to meet in the middle.
But when we did finally meet, with Spencer lifting me by my hips against the wall and slamming into me with full force, it didn’t feel like losing at all. There was a surprising familiarity in his embrace. There was something quite like winning in the sound of his groan in my ear. A pride in the knowledge that he’d found pleasure in the person he wanted to break.
“Fuck, Spencer,” I purred, my arms wrapping around his head and bringing his lips back to my jaw. My hand on his neck felt the hair rise and the skin become rough with goosebumps at the way his name sounded that time in the throes of passion.
“Shit,” he eloquently replied. But that wasn’t his only way of answering; his pace became just a little bit quicker, and my hips rocked in tandem with him. Spencer was slurring a number of hushed curses against my neck, and I didn’t bother trying to decode them.
Not like they were sweet nothings— and if they were, I definitely didn’t want to hear them. My eyes were set on one goal, and one goal only.
“You better let me finish. I’m not here for altruistic desires.”
Spencer laughed at the suggestion, taking the brief pause to readjust his grip on me. That action alone, the sudden pull of gravity causing him to bottom out inside me, was enough to tear moans from me.
“Let you?” Spencer mocked, running his nose over the side of my face before he growled, “I planned on making you.” With his new hold on me, he followed through on that promise. Each time our hips crashed together, I heard the precarious tapping of the diplomas and certificates hung on the wall. If they fell and broke, it would have still been worth the mess.
“Oh, God,” I whined, my nails digging into his neck and scalp as I struggled to keep up with the way his body moved. I would have never thought he would be the better of us when it came to physical activity, but there I was, shaking like a leaf in his arms.  
“It’s okay. You can admit how good I make you feel,” Spencer mocked with an obvious amusement in my undoing. But, in his typical fashion, he wanted to parade that joy so that I couldn’t ignore it.
It almost hurt, the way his fingers gripped me with crushing force. Almost, but not quite. It was the perfect amount of pain to knock me onto the edge, and I stayed there for a moment with my mouth hung open, taking hungry gasps of air. I wanted to say his name, but I couldn’t. Everything was nonsense in my mind that was focused only on what he was giving me. That smug bastard knew it, too.
“Say my name so everyone can hear, Miss 188.”
With his permission, my body called for him in desperate, keening cries. And then I couldn’t stop, his name flowing over and over from my lips in a way he would probably never grow tired of. He had stopped kissing me, focusing all of his attention on fucking me through my orgasm and watching my face as he did.
I didn’t even mind the way he looked at me like I was nothing without him. It almost felt like that in that moment, like I would fade away without his hands holding me down. Once I did return to Earth, and my senses, I scoffed at the goofy grin on his face.
“Fuck you,” I muttered.
“You already are,” he responded without his smile changing at all. There were worse things to look at, I suppose.
Normally I would have grown tired of waiting at that point, having gotten what I came for. But somehow Spencer kept me interested, and within seconds, I felt the familiar tension building again. However, it became obvious just as quickly that he wasn’t going to last that much longer.
And honestly? I didn’t hold it against him. I would take the frustration of an incomplete orgasm. He’d already given me one more than most men would. But apparently, that wasn’t enough for him. Because we both knew I would be capable of giving him one, and that would make the score a tie.
We didn’t like ties. Someone had to win. Spencer wanted to win— badly. I could feel as much in the way his hand came to where we met, slipping in the mess of our arousal just to find its way to my clit.
“W-What are you doing?” I asked even though I knew the answer.
With a wild look in his eyes and between heavy breaths, Spencer said through that same fucking smirk, “Winning.”
I hated the way it worked. That stupid, smug bastard got what he wanted almost immediately, my body betraying my own sense of self-preservation and throwing itself at his mercy. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. How could I? He looked so fucking beautiful with his head thrown back as he lost himself in me. The feeling of his arousal spilling inside of me and filling me like this body belonged to him was one that would burn into my brain. Like Spencer, I would never forget the way he looked when we fell apart together.
But when his hips finally stilled and his head fell forward onto my shoulder, we remembered the truth. There was nothing to like about one another besides the fight. This battle was over, and it had been won. I wouldn’t admit it, but Spencer took the victory by a landslide. Surprisingly, though, he didn’t gloat or force me to admit it.
No, with an insane amount of tenderness, he looked me in the eyes and asked, “Are you alright?”
“…What the fuck did you just say to me?” I barked back with furrowed brows.
“I asked you if you’re alright,” he repeated, not at all catching the hint. So much for thinking he was clever for like, two seconds.
“Do not get sentimental on me right now, 187, or I swear to god I’ll expose you to the world.”
Then, all at once, we were back to the way we’d been before.
“Yeah, you’re fine.”  Spencer drew his arms back and let me fall. I barely avoided a sprained ankle by grabbing hold of the shelf beside me, and I swear I heard him laugh at how badly my legs were shaking.
While the two of us tried to compose ourselves, we barely looked at one another. Every now and then, our eyes would meet in quick glances. It wasn’t exactly awkward, it was just that we didn’t have anything to say that hadn’t already been done. By the time he opened the door, I felt a smile creeping over my lips at the newly formed memory. It could have gone poorly from that point on if we’d let it.
But I decided that I wasn’t done playing with Spencer Reid.
“Hey, Spencer,” I called just before he turned the corner and left my sight.  
“Call me later.” The instruction left no room for protest, and he didn’t seem to have any. It did, however, call for an explanation that I was happy to give. “I have a few other arguments that need to be won.”
Spencer’s nose scrunched as he tried to hide the pleased smile that I definitely saw.
With feigned indifference, he answered, “Fine.”
(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)
3K notes · View notes
criminalmindzjunkie · 8 months ago
Hungry Eyes
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Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship. 
A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex
Word Count: 5.5k
           “That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.
           So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.
           Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.
           It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.
           Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.
           It was the best decision he would ever make.
           So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.  
           Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.
           In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.
           Until it wasn’t.
           Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.
           That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.
           The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.
           It makes Spencer sick.
           His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.
           “There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”
           “Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”
           “Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.
           “Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”
           This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.
           “You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.
           “Not exactly.”
           The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.
           Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.
           “Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”
           “There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”
           He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.
           “The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.
           “Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.
           “Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”
           Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.
           The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.
           Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.
           “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.
           “I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.
           JJ nods.
           “Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”
           Of fucking course.
           Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.
           He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.
           “– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
           You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.
           “She’s not interested.”
           The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.
           “What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”
           Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.
           Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.
           “I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”
           “Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”
           Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.
           “What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”
           Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.
           When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.
           “I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”
           “Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.
           “Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”
           “M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”
           “I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”
           Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.
           “Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”
           As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.
           “Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.
           You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.
           “What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.
           “You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”
           You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.
           “Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.
           “Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.
           Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.
           He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.
           “You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”
           You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.
           “Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”
           Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.
           “That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.
           “You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.
           “Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”
           “God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”
           By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.
           Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.
           Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.
           “M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”
           Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.
           “Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”
           Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.
           “Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”
           “Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”
           Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.
           You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.
           “Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”
           You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.
           “D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.
           “So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”
           You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.
           You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.
           “Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.
           “S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”
           Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.
           “Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”
           And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.
           “Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”
           “So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.
           “F-Fuck, Spencer!”
           “Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.
           You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.
           “Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”
           “Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”
           Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.
           “C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”
           “I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.
           Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.
           “How many do you think you deserve?”
           You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.
           “However many you want to give me. I can take it.”
           Spencer returns your smile.
           “Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”
           “Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.
           You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.
           “T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.
           It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.
           “Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”
          “Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”
           The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.
          Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.
          “You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds. 
          “Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips. 
          Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.
           “Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.
           “I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”
           You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.
           Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.
           “So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”
           “S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.
           “Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”
           “P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.
           “Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”
           It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.
           Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.
          “You okay, princess?”
           You give a weak nod.
           “M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.
            Spencer is the first to pull away.
           “Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”
           You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.
           You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.
           “S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.
           “Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”
            Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.
           “Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”
            You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.
           “Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”
           “Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”
           You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.
           “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”
           “Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.
           Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.
           “You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”
           He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.
           Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.
           “Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”
           “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”
           “Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”
           And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.
           After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.
           “You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”
           It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.
           “You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
           “We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.
           “Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”
           “You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”
           “Only for you.”
           A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.
           “We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.
           “Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.
           “Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”
          “Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”
          “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
          “Is that a no?”
          “... Look up the number.”
taglist: @90spumkin​ @moon-light-jukebox​ @thebookamongmen​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @eldahae​
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dreamwritesimagines · 10 months ago
Twisted Masterlist [Spencer Reid x Reader]
Summary: No one can outrun their past. 
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Chapter 1: Past catches up, just like family.
Chapter 2: Being in control can be a facade.
Chapter 3: Everyone’s fairytale is different.
Chapter 4: Some memories are meant to be secrets.
Chapter 5: Midnight texts are always honest.
Chapter 6: First impressions can be wrong.
Chapter 7: Ice meets fire.
Chapter 8: Forgiveness requires effort.
Chapter 9: Scars aren’t always visible.
Chapter 10: First dates are exciting.
Chapter 11: Love has a way of making itself known.
Chapter 12: Surprises can be good or bad.
Chapter 13: In the middle of chaos, there is bliss.
Chapter 14: Not every night is for sleeping.
Chapter 15: Good intentions can lead to bad consequences.
Chapter 16: Threats come closer.
Chapter 17: Love demands sacrifices.
Chapter 18: Everyone has red lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
Chapter 19: Truce can be inevitable.
Chapter 20: Coming home is sometimes unpleasant.
Chapter 21: Everybody needs a shelter.
Chapter 22: Anyone can be a suspect.
Chapter 23: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever.
Chapter 24: Everyone has demons.
Chapter 25 : Family time can be chaotic.
Chapter 26 : No one can run away forever.
Chapter 27: Who will you become?
Chapter 28: Survival makes people stronger.
Chapter 29 : Sometimes, miracles happen.
(Disclaimer: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS)
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gubler-me-up · 8 months ago
Attention Seeker
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Request: okay but like imagine this JDSHSHD  so like you’ve been flirting with a guy at the bar to make spencer jealous, and he gets mad and makes y’all leave the bar and the FUCKS YOU HARD when y’all get home and y’all have some rough angry sex and you can’t walk the next day. IM SORRY IM REALLY HORNY
A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Not day light savings time coming in clutch and helping me write faster omg i LOVE it here! This is also now officially my longest fic like that’s crazy to me. Smut week pt.2 is going strong 💪🏾 I hope you enjoy it and I hope it does justice to your request 💓 I hope it’s rough enough for you 😈
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader
Category: SMUT (NSFW 18+)
Content warning: Jealousy, light flirting outside of relationship, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, oral (male receiving), masturbation (female), rough sex, hair pulling, cum dump, vaginal penetration, dom/brat dynamic, swearing
Word count: 4.9k
Spencer had invited you out for drinks with the team to celebrate a Friday night free of weekend serial killers. It was a beautiful night to go out for drinks considering it was perfect June summer weather which meant a comfortable stay on the patio. You had on your favourite cropped tank top with your favourite pair of jean shorts. You had your hair out with your favourite pair of shades covering your eyes, soaking up the last few rays of the sun into your skin.
You couldn’t wait to spend the night with Spencer and his coworkers, drinking and enjoying the night. You hadn’t been out for a while yourself due to being busy with work. You were eager to let yourself go and have fun. You were hopeful Spencer and his coworkers were also in the party mood because you were ready to stay out for several hours.
As you walked up to the restaurant you could hear the music blasting from the back where the patio was. A smile instantly appeared on your face as you felt the beat from the song run through you. You walked through the restaurant to the back. When you reached the back, you could see Spencer and the rest of his team hanging near the bar. You let the host know you were meeting a group of people by the bar. As he gave you the good to go, you nearly rushed over to the group.
You wrapped your arms around Spencer from behind. You couldn’t see his face, but from everyone’s giggles around him, you could tell he was beaming. He grabbed your arms and held them tight to his body. You giggled as you rested your head on his back.
“Hi, baby,” you said.
“Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it,” he said.
You let him go and made your rounds around the group, greeting everyone with hugs. You loved how everyone treated you as if you were apart of the team from the first time Spencer had introduced them to you a year ago. Emily had even bought you a drink for your arrival. You gladly took it from her and raised your glass.
“Cheers to a work-free weekend,” you said.
“I’ll drink to that,” JJ said.
Everyone raised their glasses and cheered to what you said. You took a long sip of your drink as you looked at Spencer. He looked at you with a smile before looking away. You sighed as you were expecting him to look at you the way he did whenever he thought you looked extra good. His eyes would slowly undress you before he would actually undress you whenever he could get you in private.
“What’s the plan after here for you guys?” You asked.
“Sleep, sleep and more sleep hopefully,” JJ said.
“I wouldn’t mind going out for another drink tomorrow morning,” Emily said.
“Ugh, I could totally do day drinking. There’s a restaurant by me that does endless mimosas during brunch,” Penelope said.
“Sounds like a recipe for disaster. I’m in,” Luke said.
“Are you two in?” Penelope asked.
“Maybe, we’ll see,” Spencer said.
You sighed again to yourself as you put on a smile. You were hoping he would say you two would be busy doing something together. It had been a while since you two had spent a weekend together and he didn’t seem eager to see you.
As they continued to chat, you steadily drank your drink. You kept looking at Spencer to see if he was paying you any mind. He would glance at you sometimes to see if you had anything to add to the conversation, but other than that he didn’t pay attention to you. You knew he wasn’t a big PDA person, especially with so many people around, but the least he could do was wrap his arm around your shoulder.  As you finished the last few sips of your drink you decided you would go over to the bar to grab another one. Maybe even make it a double.
“Anyone want another round?” You asked.
“Yes, please. A gin and tonic would be amazing,” Emily said.
“You got it. Anyone else?” You asked.
They all said ‘no.’ You gave Spencer one last look up and down to see if he would look at you the same way. He gave you a questionable look as if he didn’t catch your drift. You sighed and rolled your eyes as you made your way to the bar. Good thing you were wearing your sunglasses, so he couldn’t see how annoyed you truly were.
You walked up to the bar and waited for the bartender to come to you. As you waited, out of the corner of your eyes you could see someone looking at you. A good looking guy was eyeing you up and down from beside you. You turned your head to look at him, thinking he’d lose his gaze once he noticed you looking at him. He didn’t. He broke into a smirk as he straightened himself up.
“Sorry for staring. I haven’t seen anyone as beautiful as you in a long while,” he said.
“That’s your opening line? Very mild in my opinion,” you scoffed.
“Well, I would be more specific of what caught my eye on you, but it seems as if you’re shutting me out already,” he said.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What caught your eye? My ass? My tits?” You asked.
“I’m not shallow, I’m more of a deep end swimmer if you will. I actually like the way you carry yourself. A woman with confidence is quite admirable,” he said.
You couldn’t help but smile at what he said. The way he carried himself was amusing to you. You looked over at Spencer. To your surprise, he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes, making sure not to stare for too long. His eyes couldn’t help but go back to you frequently though. You turned your gaze away from him and back to the guy in front of you. You thought it was time to put on a bit of a show.
You pulled down your shirt to make it seem as if you were adjusting it, but you wanted your breasts to be more prominent. You tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear before leaning against the bar table with a huge smile on your face. You glanced at Spencer, who had now locked his eyes on where you were standing. You flipped your hair before looking away from him.
“Really? What’s your name?” You asked.
“Justin. Yours?” He asked.
“Y/N,” you said.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said.
He put his hand on yours which was resting on the bar. He stroked your hand gently as he looked at you longingly. You smiled at him as you bit your lip. You glanced over at Spencer again. His eyes were still on you. His face was poker, but the way he clenched his jaw was undeniable. You looked away from him again before taking off your glasses to reveal your eyes to Justin.
“You’re truly stunning,” he said.
“Thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself,” you said.
“Pretty or handsome?” He laughed.
“All of the above,” you giggled.
“How about I buy you a drink?” He suggested.
“I’d love that. I’d love a gin and tonic,” you said.
“Ah, a classy lady. I like that,” he said.
You giggled as you slipped your hand away from his to readjust your bra. You knew you had caught Justin’s attention since he couldn’t stop gazing at them. You smirked as you glanced over to Spencer again. You could tell by the way he was staring at you he was becoming upset. He always tried to hide his mouth to cover his lower facial expressions, but his glare could cut a knife.
For him to pay you any attention now when you were out of his reach was such classic male behaviour. They never know what they want until another man comes along. He would just have to learn his lesson the hard way this time. You turned your attention back to Justin. He held out your gin and tonic to you with a smile.
“Here’s your gin and tonic, beautiful,” Justin said while handing you the glass.
“Thank you, Justin. I really do appreciate it and you,” you said as you took it from his hand.
“So, what are your plans for the rest of tonight?” He asked.
You giggled as you tucked a piece of your hair back behind your ears. You thought it was about time to let up on the flirting before you dug yourself a serious hole. You looked up at Justin about to respond until you felt someone grab your hand and it wasn’t Justin. You looked to your side and saw Spencer beside you. His face was calm, but the way he gripped your hand told you he was angry. You smirked as you squeezed his hand back to tell him the feeling was mutual.
“My girlfriend is actually coming home with me right now,” Spencer said as he glared at you.
You scoffed. “Whatever. It was really nice talking to you, Justin. Thanks for the drink.”
Spencer swiftly dragged you away before Justin could irritate him any further. He brought you back to the group. Everyone looked at the both of you with questionable stared. They hadn’t noticed the little stare offs Spencer and you had been having from across the patio. You decided not to bring any further attention to yourself and handed Emily her drink. She grabbed it from you, but not without giving you a raised eyebrow, You smiled and shook your head. She nodded as she understood she had nothing to question.
“I think we’re gonna go,” Spencer said.
“Already?” Penelope asked.
“Yeah, already?” You questioned.
“Yeah, I think all this sun is giving me a migraine,” he said.
“And why do I have to go if you’re the one with the migraine?” You asked.
He gave you a side glance before looking back at his team. You knew just by his look he had enough of your silly games. You couldn’t help to bite your lip in response to his side-eye. You knew you had gotten to him bad, but you wanted him to show you how bad he could do you.
“See you guys on Monday,” he said.
“Hope you feel better,” Luke said.
“Yeah, take it easy and keep hydrated,” JJ said.
“I’ll take good care of him. I’ll make sure his so-called migraine goes away in no time,” you assured them.
They laughed as they all said their goodbyes to you before Spencer pulled you away from the group. As soon as you two exited the restaurant, you let out a chuckle. He looked at you unamused by the humour you found in your actions.
“Funny it takes another man to give me attention for you to even notice me,” you said.
“What are you even talking about? I acknowledged you as soon as you arrived,” he said.
“You barely even looked at me,” you said.
“Just because I wasn’t undressing you with my eyes like that guy at the bar was doing doesn’t mean I didn’t look at you,” he said.
“He wasn’t undressing me with his eyes,” you protested.
“Y/N, let’s get real. He was basically eye fucking you and you just stood there letting him do it,” he said.
“How do you even know he was doing that? Profiler instincts?” You asked.
“No, because sometimes I do the same thing when I’m around you. You don’t have to seek attention from someone else just because I didn’t look at you that way around my friends,” he said.
He hailed down a taxi for the two of you to go in. You stayed silent as you waited for the taxi to pull up. You guess he had a point. His friends were FBI profilers and would pick up on the sexual tension if he was more open about his sexual desires. You retracted your hand from his and crossed your arms. You weren’t as upset anymore, but you still wanted to play it up to make it seem as if you were. You wanted to see how much further you could push him before he made you pay.
He didn’t look amused at all by the way you were acting standoffish with your arms closed. The taxi pulled up and he seemed to let it go as he opened the door for you. You hopped in and he followed behind you. As he told the taxi driver his address, you felt his large hands grip your thigh hard. He looked at you with such an intense stare you thought he was going to fuck you right then and there.
He leaned into you, so he could whisper in your ear. The words he said to you made your breathing increase rapidly and in-between your legs were beginning to become wet. You knew your actions had pushed him to his limits as he squeezed your thigh harder.
“I don’t like brats,” he said.
By the time you two had reached his apartment door, you were prepared for anything he had planned for you as soon as you entered his apartment. When he opened the door, you stepped inside and he followed behind you. You heard the door shut and knew it was time. You took a deep breath before you turned around to see a living room without Spencer in it. You looked around confused until you saw him in his room undoing his tie. You groaned in frustration as you threw your glasses off of your head onto his couch and stormed into his room.
He saw everything you did and rolled his eyes at you. You went right up to him, so he could see every inch of anger on your face. He didn’t seem phased by it though as he proceeded to undo his trousers. You grabbed his wrist to stop him from ignoring you any further. He sighed out of frustration at you.
“What now, Y/N?” He hissed.
“You wanted to talk all that shit about how Justin was eye-fucking me and how you do that regularly, but now you don’t wanna fuck me?” You said.
“I told you I don’t like brats and that’s how you’ve been acting. Flirting with a random guy at the bar, getting mad I’m not looking at you a certain way, pouting. I’m just trying to teach you a lesson about not getting everything you want,” he said.
“I just want you to fuck me because I think I look fucking hot today and you’re turning this into some psychology lesson? God, Justin would have-”
Before you could even think about finishing your sentence, Spencer picked you up and slammed you on the bed. You gasped in shock before he stuck two of his long fingers in your mouth, preventing you from talking any further. He hovered over you with the same intense glare from when you two were in the taxi.
“I think it’s wise if you don’t finish your sentence,” he said.
You rolled your eyes, but it didn’t go without being noticed. Spencer gripped your jaw tightly as he forced your face to stay still, eyes on him. Now you had officially unlocked his sexual rage which had been burning since the patio.
“See this is the brat behaviour I don’t like. You think you can just go over to another guy and flirt with him and I wouldn’t get mad,” he said.
He removed his fingers from your mouth to allow you to speak. You just gave him a smirk as you pulled down your tank top to reveal your breasts.
“What would you have done if my breasts fell out while I was talking to Justin? Would you have cared earlier?” You teased.
He grabbed one of your breasts with his free hand and squeezed it tight. You let out a yelp. He pinched your nipple to get an even louder scream out of you. You arched your body up as he continued to roughly play with your breast.
“You keep mentioning him as if he’s any sort of competition to me,” he said.
“Well, you’re acting as if it’s a competition to see who can fuck me first,” you said.
“It’s not a competition if I always win,” he said.
He moved from hovering over you to yanking off your shorts and throwing them across the room. He rubbed his hand up your went underwear before yanking them off as well. He looked at you with irritation with an underlying desire. He licked his lips as he swung your wet underwear around on his right index finger.
“A brat I can live with. A bratty whore is something I can’t,” he said.
“What the fuck do-”
You gasped as he shoved two of his fingers inside of you and stroked your g spot with a rapid stroke. He continued to twirl your underwear around his finger as his eyes watched you squirm, trying your best to form a sentence. Nothing but moans seemed to exit your mouth.
“Is the bratty whore going to squirt?” He asked.
You violently shook your head to convince him you weren’t going to squirt even though you probably were going to. His fingers inside of you didn’t let up on your g spot by any means which made it harder to stay grounded. What made it even harder was his cool exterior, but harsh verbal behaviour which made you want to give into him.
“Let me pick up the pace for you,” he said.
As soon as he started to rub your g spot quicker, you screamed and squirted on his forearm. He retracted his fingers from inside of you. He stopped twirling your underwear and finally tossed it to the side. You panted heavily as you watched him make his next move. He took off his pants and underwear before slipping off his button-up.
You smirked. “You’re ready to have sex with a brat like me?”
“A brat like you doesn’t receive sex, they receive punishment,” he said.
He grabbed you by your hair to drag you off the bed. He brought you over to the full-length mirror in his room. He forced you to kneel in front of it. You could see his hard dick to the right side of you and bit your lip before trying to make a move for it with your mouth. He instantly pulled you back by your hair.
“You’re not getting dick in your mouth until I want my dick in your mouth. Understood?” He asked.
“Just let me suck-”
“Rub your clit now or you get nothing. Do it,” he said.
You did what he said and started rubbing your clit. You looked up at him while you did it. His hand moved from your hair and roughly grabbed your face to jerk it towards the mirror. He held it there so you couldn’t turn your head away.
“Look at yourself and say how much of a whore you are,” he demanded.
“I’m a whore,” you said.
He slapped you on your cheek before roughly grabbing your face again. You groaned at how he wasn’t letting you off the hook no matter what. You bit your lip as you watched yourself rubbing your clit. You glanced up to your right to see how intensely he was watching your every move. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him as he watched you.
“I’m a fucking dirty whore,” you moaned.
“And why are you a fucking dirty whore?” He asked.
“Because I seek attention from men when I have a man,” you said.
He slapped you again on your opposite cheek before grabbing your hair to pull you closer to him. You tumbled towards him a bit but regained your balance quickly. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he looked down at you with narrow ones. His stare set a fire in you you couldn’t contain. You wanted him to treat you rougher and fuck you hard for being the bratty whore you were.
“I don’t need any other man. I’m your bratty cum dump and I need you. I need you to treat me like the fucking whore I am to learn my lesson,” you said.
Without another word being exchanged he shoved your mouth onto his dick. You gagged on it but he didn’t give you time to get used to him in your mouth. He pulled your head back and forth as he listened to you gargle and choke on it. You felt your spit fall onto your thighs as you continued to let him fuck your mouth. You looked up at him to see him thoroughly enjoying seeing you take his dick repeatedly in your mouth. He bit his bottom lip as he tried to hold back any expression of pleasure.
You continued to rub your clit as in-between your folds became wetter. You stuck two fingers inside of yourself to continue rubbing your g spot since he had left you high and dry. As you did you could feel your legs become weaker and they started to spread apart further. Spencer noticed your slight shift in position and knew what you were doing.
“Are you trying to cum?” He asked.
You could hear a bit of anger in his voice but you were so close you couldn’t care less. Too bad for you you weren’t the one in charge. He pulled your mouth off of his dick and then lifted you off the ground by your hair before throwing you front first onto the edge of the bed. You groaned out of frustration as you were close to having your orgasm. You propped yourself up on your elbows, ready to turn around to give him a piece of your mind.
Spencer obviously had other plans in mind than having you argue with him any further. You let out a sharp gasp as you felt him shove his dick inside of you. You let out continuous moans as he kept up a rapid, hard pace as he fucked you from behind.
“You thought I’d let you cum after all you’ve done?” He asked.
You just moaned as you couldn’t find the right words at the moment. He slapped your right butt cheek which caused you to let out a shriek. He did it again to get the same reaction and you gave it to him.
“Well?” He said.
“Yes, I did,” you screamed.
“Stupid fucking brat,” he said as he landed another slap on your butt cheek.
You let out another scream as he continued to ram his dick in you mercilessly. You stretched your hand back to a try and slow his pace. He grabbed both of your wrists and held them tightly together in his hand as he proceeded to fuck you harder. You let continuous shrieks as he had his way with you.
He eventually stopped fucking you and you thought he had grown tired. You pouted a bit. You didn’t want him to stop altogether. Before you could say anything, you felt him shove his dick all the way inside you and kept it in there. You moaned heavily as you let his dick sit inside of you. When it just laid still inside of you it was a reminder of just how big he was and you loved it.
“I hope you know no one’s going to ever fill you as much as I do,” he aggressively said before restarting his pace.
“I know, I know,” you pathetically moaned as he fucked you.
“What did you say you were to me before?” He asked.
“Your bratty cum dump,” you said.
He removed his dick from inside you and let go of your arms. He swiftly turned you over on to your back. He saw how heavily you were panting and it enticed him. He pushed your legs back.
“Hold them,” he demanded.
You immediately held your legs back and without warning, he shoved his dick back in you. You moaned aloud and tilted your head back as he fucked the sense out of you. You couldn’t even moan properly after a while because all that would come out were laboured gasps as he didn’t lighten up his pace. He wrapped his right hand around your neck as he looked down at your disheveled face.
“You look like a pathetic brat now,” he said.
“I’m your pathetic brat,” you moaned.
He smirked. “I like to hear that. What else do I like to hear?”
“Please cum on me,” you said.
He moved his hand from around your neck and slapped you on your right cheek. He grabbed your chin to focus your head back on him.
“That sounded pathetic. Try again.”
“I need you to cum on me. I need your cum all over me, please,” you begged.
He pulled out his dick from inside of you and instantly came on your torso. You bit your lip at the feeling of his cum dripping off of your torso. You let your legs go and allowed them to flop on the bed. He removed his hand from your neck. He slid it down your torso before bringing his cum covered fingers to your mouth. You gladly opened your mouth and sucked off the cum on his fingers.
When you were done, he hovered over you before planting a long-awaited kiss on your lips. He grabbed the back of your head to push you further into the kiss. He leaned up and looked down at you with a smirk.
“Don’t do that shit again,” he said.
You smiled. “Or else what? You’re going to fuck me harder?”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Sounds like a risk I’m willing to take,” you said.
He grabbed your neck again, forcing you down on the bed. You smirked up at him as he looked at you unamused. He ended up kissing you again anyway because even though he was mad, he still loved the feeling of your lips. You forced him off and tucked a piece of his hair behind his ears.
“I’m joking, babe. I’m not that much of a brat. Just a whore,” you joked.
He smiled. “A cum whore, if you will. I’ll get a wet cloth.”
In the morning you woke up to an alarm clock which read 11 a.m. You groaned as you stretched out your sore muscles. You looked to your side and didn’t see Spencer there. The door to his room was open, so you moved your head to peek to see if he was in the living room. He wasn’t.
“Spencer?” You called out.
No response. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion trying to think of where he could be. You reached for your phone on the nightstand. When you opened it you saw a text message from Spencer.
Went out for brunch with Penelope, Emily and Luke. I’ll be home in about an hour and a half.
You looked at the time when he sent it. 10:50 a.m. You rapidly tried to call him. You put the phone to your ear as you waited for him to answer. You couldn’t believe he went to a bottomless mimosa brunch without you. He didn’t even care to try and wake you up.
“Hello?” He answered.
“Spencer Reid, you went out to brunch without me?” You asked.
“I thought it was best for you to stay in for the morning and rest,” he said.
“Rest? Rest from what? I’m not even tired,” you said.
“Not rest because you’re tired,” he said.
You gasped as you realized what he was trying to say. You couldn’t believe he thought you were sore from sex last night. You had to admit it was rough and your upper body was sore, but you were more than capable of walking around.
“You want me to rest because of last night? I’d like to let you know, Spencer, I’m fine enough to walk to get brunch,” you protested.
“Oh?” He said.
“Uh-huh, I’m even going to get out of bed right now, get dressed and-”
You became silent as you hopped out of bed. The first few steps you took were unbalanced and the stinging from your right butt cheek was a lot. You walked as if you could till feel his dick inside of you. You slowly moved toward the full body mirror in his room. You looked at the mark he left on your ass. It was still red and tender to the touch.
“Y/N?” He called out.
“Um, you know what, this is why you have Ph.D.’s and I don’t. I think I’ll stay in bed for a while longer,” you said.
He chuckled. “I’ll bring you back something to eat.”
“Can it be french toast, please?” You asked.
“Anything for my favourite brat,” he said.
You smiled. “Thanks, babe. I love you.”
“I love you too. Don’t forget to ice your butt.”
“Trust me, I won’t.”
Tagged: @shadyladyperfection​, @slutforthegubes​, @pinkdiamond1016​, @spencerreidsthings​, @itzzjessica01-blog​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​
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spencerseance · 11 months ago
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Spencer and Y/n don’t exactly get along, but one night they finally get together and ... resolve their differences.
A/n: I wrote this for my friend @ongoingcrisismsc​ for the Discord’s Secret Santa Fic Swap. I hope all of you enjoy! 
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Lots of petty arguments, oral sex, unprotected penetrative sex
Word Count: 9.7K
I never considered myself a romantic. Growing up I was objective and analytical, that much has never really changed. But something that did change was my thinking on the matter; coming to the conclusion that everyone is a romantic in one way or another. Not necessarily a romantic for relationships, but we all romanticize our future in our heads. We all imagine the life we want in a cookie-cutter mold. Not everyone has the same cutter, no one has the same perfect future, but I think that we all have one. 
There was a person I imagined myself with in that future, and after thirty years, I found her. The only problem was, she drove me absolutely crazy.
She was kind-hearted, but dense. Optimistic, but with a naïveté that made her so to a fault. She would solve mathematical equations with the wrong process, but miraculously emerge with the right answer. She was a paradox of a person and it drove me crazy that I couldn’t figure her out. But through what was admittedly my own fault, I didn’t always like the things that I struggled to understand.
She was childish and as stubborn as the brickwall I felt I was talking to in every conversation I had with her. Sometimes hearing her talk was enough to make me want to pull my hair out… but much more prominently in my mind, I wanted to shut her up in any way I could. And I mean, any way I could.
“Spencer, are you even listening to me?” She asked insistently. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and I swore that if I looked harder, I could see steam blowing out of her ears.
“Nope.” I popped the ‘P’ sound and picked up the book on the table that this conversation had forced me to put down.
“Why not?” 
“Because you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied plainly, not even reading the book, just pretending to. Something about the way her face twisted and her voice got high and squeaky filled me with an unfair amusement that even though I knew was wrong, was something I’d always pursue when given the opportunity. Opportunities she had given to me many times, a fact that almost led me to believe she was doing it on purpose.
She was talking about a case, no doubt telling me things that I already knew — but I didn’t lie. I wasn’t listening enough to confirm my thinking.
“I do so know what I’m talking about, Doctor.” I looked up at her, her eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. Her eyes traced my face as if she was awaiting a response. 
I swallowed the lump in my throat at the use of my honorific. It was a word that I’ve imagined escaping her lips many times before, but not in the context she was using now. I shifted awkwardly in my seat.
I had to clear my throat before speaking, my voice still more strained than I would have liked. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” She asked, her eyebrows raised in a suspecting way that made me more angry in comparison to my precious excitement. 
“Because I worked hard for that title and I don’t want you ruining it with your…” I excused, struggling to find the right word, “Philistinism.” 
She laughed and started to approach me, her eyes angry but never straying once from mine. She looked me up and down like she was searching for where my sudden audacity came from. 
“You don’t like it when I call you Doctor?” She spoke lowly, sitting down on my desk as if she owned it. “You really think I’m gonna corrupt it with my inherent stupidity?“ 
I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly short her skirt was now as it rode higher up her thighs. I didn’t allow myself to look anymore after that first subtle glance, suddenly feeling like a prepubescent boy again—almost forgetting that I was mad at all. But if I looked, then she won a competition that she didn’t even know that she was a part of.
“Let me tell you something, Spencer,” she leaned closer to me, her voice as crisp and clean as the lipstick that I couldn’t stop myself from passing glances at every few moments of enunciation. “I didn’t graduate at 12. My IQ is just above average, and I certainly don’t have three PhDs.”
I furrowed my eyebrows and looked back into her eyes as she seemed to be finished speaking.
“Your point?” I asked starkly, slightly confused but trying to mask it with boredness. She chuckled and grabbed my tie in her hands and tightened it. I couldn’t breathe. Not because of the tie that was ever tightening around my throat, but because of her and the way I didn’t hate it.
“I am still doing your job just as well if not better.” She continued playing with the fabric around my neck like it was a toy. My face dropped as reality came back to play. She pulled me closer to her by the tie, her face just inches away from mine as the daggers she spoke filled the air. “Tell me, smart boy, if I’m so inferior to you, why the fuck are you still working beside me? Why aren’t you running the whole circus by now?”
Her eyes stayed so stagnant and sharp on mine that I could almost see the fire burning within them.
“Bite me,” It wasn’t the maturest of answers but it was the only one I could force out with any clarity. She dropped my tie from her grasp and flattened it out before hopping off my desk and walking away. 
“Only if you beg, Doctor.” 
Trust me, I won’t be the one begging… wait, what?
Some things I forgot to mention: She was insufferable, but also the hottest person I’ve ever fucking met. 
Hours later we were in the conference room of a run down Texas police station. We’ve been working on this case casually for the past week back in Quantico. Now  we’re here since the case had escalated beyond where we could help from back home.
The air conditioning was broken which was definitely inconvenient in this scorching weather. It was starting to rain, and I had almost expected it to be cooler because of it. But no, now it was just hot and wet — which although wasn’t ideal in this context, otherwise sounds like a great time. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to Y/n, subconsciously thinking about her like that. Hot and wet from something very different from the capricious Texas weather.
I looked back at Hotch when I heard my name, only realizing then that I hadn’t been paying attention for the last few minutes. But Hotch certainly did, emphasizing my name like he was giving clues to what was going to be on the final exam.
“Reid and Y/l/n, you two are going to stay behind and work together on the geographic profile. Try not to kill each other,” he said with a straight face, but I could almost read something else that I couldn’t quite identify. Either he was annoyed at our childish antics and needed it to be resolved, or he just kind of wanted to see what happens.
“If he doesn’t kill me I’ll do it myself.” Y/n mumbled, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. I rolled my eyes. I could be civil, sure. But if that was the attitude she would be implementing, then neither of us would be getting out of here alive.
“Hotch, I can just hold down the fort by myself, she doesn’t need to be here…” I suggested, trying my best to hide any desperation, “Or I could go with you.”
Y/n laughed, “No, Spencer, with your skill set I think you’d be much more useful inside. No physical activity required.”
“Are you kidding?” I raised my eyebrows, forgetting that we had an audience and they were about ready to pull out their popcorn.
“No, you’d get everyone killed.” She spoke as if it was a fact, an amused grin on her face that she was trying to hold back. I rolled my eyes and turned away from her again.
“I wish I were dead,” I mumbled to myself. 
She perked up and with a failing subtlety, she responded, “That can be arranged.”
“Jesus, you two,” Hotch groaned. I think I could say with full confidence now what that hidden thing I had read on his face was. “The plan is not changing and you’re going to learn to get along before permanent changes are to be made to the team. You’re adults, act like it. Am I making myself clear?”
The tension in the room was so strong it felt like I needed to open a window.
“Yes sir,” Y/n said immediately, suddenly the epitome of virtue, apparently.
“Yes, Hotch.” I answered back.
The rest of the team left, kind of in a rush after the tense atmosphere had been formed from that encounter. But with no supervision, Y/n nudged me harshly in the arm with her elbow.
“Ow! What was that for?” I jumped, immediately rubbing the aching skin on my arm with my opposite hand.
“You were pissing me off.”
How, by standing here?
It was gonna be a long day.
So I did the mature thing and elbowed her back. Harder.
“It’s hot as balls in here,” Y/n complained for the third time today, messing with the knobs on the air conditioner instead of helping me with the profile. I didn’t lie to Hotch, I definitely didn’t need her help; her presence and constant whining were in no way beneficial.
“We're in Texas,” I answered shortly. “What do you expect?”
“Well, it’s raining outside. I guess I just associate it with the cold,” she spoke, finally giving up on the temperature and falling into her chair.
I rolled my eyes, despite having thought the same thing earlier.
“The average high during this time of year is 97 degrees Fahrenheit and the mean for the daily temperature is only nine degrees below-“
She cut me off with a laugh, rubbing her eyes with her hands, “My god.”
I put the marker down and looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”
“I expected you to behave like a normal person for once,” She groaned before slinking further down into her chair, “But I guess that's just wishful thinking, isn’t it?”
I turned to her with a bewildered laugh, “Well, I expected you to not be such a bitch all the time, but clearly you’re not capable of doing that.”
“Have you ever considered that I act like a bitch solely because you’re an asshole all the time?” She stood up and got closer to me, she was clearly angry, but her shorter stature in comparison to mine didn't help her case. “I didn’t do anything to you and you just started hating me for no reason. Get your head out of your fucking ass, Spencer- Fuck! It's too hot!”
Her face was flushed from both anger and the heat, and stray strands of hair stuck to her skin like they were painted on. But either way, her whining made me want to pull my hair out, feeling suddenly like a parent of an obnoxious toddler.
“My God, if you complain about the temperature one more time I’ll give you a reason to fucking sweat.”
She whipped her head around and looked at me with a shocked expression on her face. I didn’t truly process the words that fell out from my lips until this moment when the sudden tension changed from anger to something else entirely. We just stood there, staring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move like it was an old western duel. 
Did I... really just say that? Quick change the subject!
I cleared my throat and followed it down with a satiating deep breath. I avoided her demanding eyes until I realized that the sudden sheepish nature I adopted would probably make the situation worse. 
I broke the silence finally, speaking sharp words with a calm tongue that made it almost as contradictory as her. “Hotch said that if we don’t figure this out then there will be permanent changes to the team…” I swallowed again, bringing my eyes back up to meet hers. They weren’t cold, nor on fire, but more lukewarm. Not necessarily expectant, but so confused that I felt bad not giving an answer. I didn't have one to give. ‘“But I need you to know that if that happens... I won’t be the one to go.”
The words left my mouth and I felt remorseful for that too. Her eyes caught fire like flames through a dry field, easily and almost in a way that had been expected from the match that my words had lit.
“Then I’ll go and work by myself,” She said strangely softly, turning over her shoulder and quickly excusing herself from the room like she was called for an emergency.
“Hotch wants us to work together!” I called out to her. I didn’t like her, but I valued my job so much more. My previous point was a large claim that admittedly didn't carry the weight that I implied it did; My job was no more secure than hers was. I wanted to follow the rules.
She ignored me. I groaned and turned back to the map, whipping out my marker like it was a weapon.
“Fine. I’ll solve this myself.”
I brought the marker to the paper, hovering it just before making contact. I couldn’t focus. Y/n’s voice echoed in from outside, and her words (or rather her tone) was distracting.
“Hey, sailor,” She sung, my ears twitched like a cat‘s. She must’ve been talking to one of the cops. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about the crime scene.”
I begrudgingly looked over my shoulder; my suspicions confirmed. She was smiling, talking to a fairly attractive cop. He looked her up and down, throwing all subtlety to the wind.
Way to be shameless, I thought while rolling my eyes back into my head. Good for you, but at least try to keep it professional.
He said something to her, but I couldn’t hear it. That only made me more suspicious. I’m sure that she spoke loudly on purpose so that I could hear her. He pointed to somewhere out of my line of sight, and started to walk there with her following close behind. Before I could no longer see her, she passed me one last glance and winked.
I turned around and tried my best to retain focus, finally managing to connect the ink to that paper. But I couldn’t stop feeling angry. Angry that I was thinking about her at all, and angry at the completely unwarranted feeling of jealousy that followed each thought I had of her. 
No. I’m not jealous. It’s Y/n.
Finally, she escaped my mind and I lost track of time, managing to both start and finish the geographic profile in a matter of minutes. She finished within that span of time too, her voice interrupting my wandering thoughts.
“I have a lead- wow, you didn’t get anything done, did you?” She hopped up behind me, radiating an energy that was much more chipper than I’ve seen from her in a while. I perked up and rolled my eyes, not bothering to rebut because my job was clearly finished and it felt pointless to argue.
“What’d you find?” I stood up straighter. I couldn’t help but notice… how good she looked. She had sweat her makeup off and threw her nicely done hair into an extremely messy ponytail. But, she was smiling. That smile was enough to make her seem infinitely more pleasant.
“Well the lab results came back and the DNA found on the clothes she was wearing didn’t match the victim or the unsub, which means that it didn’t belong to her.” I bit back a remark about how none of this information was new because it seemed like she was actually trying to be civil and I thought that I owed the team the same. At least for now. “They’re all vintage clothes, and very hard to find, so they could only have been bought from one of the three vintage shops that are in the area that the unsub is willing to drive to, which based on the profile, isn’t very far.”
Okay, that was new… and actually very helpful.
“Okay,” I wiped my thumb quickly across my bottom lip, “How big are these vintage boutiques?”
She shook her head and tucked the stray strands of hair that fell out of her ponytail behind her ear. She seemed proud of herself, which I could infer was the reasoning behind her sudden amiability.
“Not big at all. And one of them is run solely by its owner, Tamara Leon, which means that if he spread out his purchases, like he would if he was smart, then there’s a good chance that Ms. Leon would have come in contact with our guy.”
“Wait,” I said, quickly turning around and ripping the map off the wall. I set it down on the table and pointed at the space at the center of my markings, “Does that one fit within these margins?”
She leaned over the table and then compared the map to the notepad in her hand that she must have borrowed from the cop (she was never that prepared). 
Her shirt was low cut and I only looked respectfully because I’m a gentleman.
“Yes,” She finally popped up, I reverted my eyes back to her proud ones and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Maybe things between us were looking brighter than I thought after all.
“Great. Text Hotch and we can go.”
After the connection that Y/n made, the case wrapped up easily with a neat bow on top. As it turns out, Ms. Leon’s store was even smaller than any of us could have expected, and she was able to give us a name as soon as we asked about any regulars. 
Nicolas Daley was a forty-five year old man, he had social anxiety and a stutter, and he had his heartbroken during the time period of all of the clothes he had bought. All of which fit into the profile like the last pieces to an intricate puzzle.
We were all in the hotel lobby waiting for instructions from Hotch, who was on what sounded like an extremely frustrating phone call. The rain had built up to a storm, thunder and lightning and all. The rain was so heavy that on the drive back to the hotel, we could barely see through the windshield. 
Since the call wasn’t over, we didn’t know exactly what they wanted us to do-- but we were logical and we’ve been through this before. There was no way that we were leaving today, maybe not tomorrow either. Hotch was fighting, but the rest of us accepted it.
I was waiting at the edge of the room, having just changed out of my soaking wet clothes and into the pajamas that I had packed. I was sure that everyone would be making fun of me, which was why I stayed at the edge of the room, but as I scanned the room seeing that all the girls were wearing them too. So I moved further into the lobby and hesitated before taking a seat next to Y/n.
“I hate to say it… but… you did good.” I said. She looked up from her phone and she looked down at my pajamas.
“Hey there, dinosaur pants.” She laughed, ignoring my compliment (Or, implied compliment). I blushed.
“Well, you're not even wearing pants!” I rebutted, gesturing towards the giant sweatshirt she was wearing as a dress. 
“Hey, why are you looking at my no pants, pervert!”
“What? I’m not!” I said a little too loudly, everyone looked at me. I blushed even harder, losing control of my own nervous system. “I’m not,” I repeated, this time a whisper. The rest of the team seemingly lost interest and went back to whatever they were doing.
“It was a joke…” She furrowed her eyebrows, “You… do you have a sense of humor, don't you?”
“Well excuse me if my sense of humor is a little more dignified than baseless accusations,” I rebutted, slowly but surely turning this into a whispered argument that everyone else was too tired to stop. “Though it wouldn’t surprise me if our senses of humor didn’t exactly overlap.”
“What does that mean?” She set her phone down and turned to face me more head-on, “You’re still pulling the genius card? Even after I solved the case in the same amount of time it took you to draw a circle on a map with your little stationery kit?”
“Okay, it's a geographical profile that you were supposed to help me on-”
“Well, it's good that I didn't then, huh? Otherwise, we'd still be in that sweaty ass police station.” She tried to say nonchalantly, picking her phone back up, but I wasn’t done. I didn’t like arguments, I wasn't a confrontational person. But whenever this happened, I always won. Today was no exception just because she layed off with the insults for an hour.
“I told you you did a good job!” I defended, no longer caring about the volume. I could feel the eyes of both annoyed and curious coworkers dig into me but I no longer cared about that either. “I told you! You’re the one making this a problem.”
“I was trying to be nice, you just got defensive and douchey for no reason.”
“You call that nice?” I laughed, she looked up at me from her phone. “Sweetheart, I don’t think that word is in your vocabulary.”
“Jesus Christ, this is what I get for thinking you had any other level,” she laughed to herself, which only made me more furious.
“Oh? What level is that?”
“Oddito, you two,” Rossi interrupted, throwing his book down on the cushion beside him to emphasize his annoyance. 
“Please continue this in your rooms.” He smiled sarcastically and spoke with that scary calm voice that all parents seem to be programmed with. “The storm’s not stopping any time soon, and if I have to spend the entire night listening to you two assclowns arguing over stupid shit then we’re gonna have an issue.”
I blinked. “Did you just... send us to our rooms?”
“Yes, I did.” He grabbed his book and tucked it under his arm with his finger holding the page, before getting up heading to what looked like the sauna room. “Go before I make you.”
We complied immediately.
I didn’t realize I had followed Y/n into her room until I was already there.
“What’cha doin’ there, bud?” she asked condescendingly, though I guess she had a point this time. She looked at me with a confused and only slightly annoyed expression, and only then I realized that I didn’t have a plan. I wanted to continue this, but I realized that I didn’t have a plan beyond more yelling.
“I thought this wasn’t done yet,” I said, coming up with a reason that sounded fair on the spot.
She just laughed, seemingly not annoyed anymore.
“Give me a second.” Was all she said, before going into the bathroom. When she came out, she was wearing new pajamas. A matching set with shorts and a tank top, pink silk with little sheep on it. Her makeup was off and her hair was out of the tight ponytail she had it in all day. Sometimes I wondered if that ponytail was too tight and that was why she was always so short-tempered with me, but now she seemed like she couldn’t be bothered.
“Why’d you change?” I asked, thinking she was already in her pajamas.
“I thought I’d put on pants since that seemed to bother you so much before.” She laughed, throwing the sweatshirt she was wearing earlier on the desk chair.
“Now what?” She asked, calmer than I would have expected to be.
“I… I do have another level,” I said, an argument becoming the only words that made sense.
She just laughed and rubbed her face in her hands, “Did you really follow me to my room at midnight to argue with me?” 
“We’re jet-lagged. I figured we have nothing better to do.” I said with a small shrug.
She sighs, “Want anything from the snack bar?”
“You shouldn’t be taking those,” I said, sitting at the foot of her bed. “They’re ridiculously overpriced.”
“They gave us a discount because of the ‘inconvenience’.” She air quoted the last word with a small snicker.
“What? They never offered that to me!”
“Then that says something about you, doesn't it?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “Do you want trail mix, jelly beans, or kettle chips? I know you don't drink, so.” 
“I…” --didn’t expect you to be so hostly, is what I would have said. But I decided against it and settled with, “Trail mix, I guess.”
“How did I know you’d pick trail mix?” She laughed, throwing the trail mix at me and grabbing a mini tequila for herself.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, opening the bag and picking an M&M off the top.
“You dress like a grandpa already, I expected you to have the eating habits of one.”
“And you drink like a frat guy,” I said before shoveling more trail mix into my mouth.
“I do not. This is my first since we got here.” She defended herself. She pointed at me, “But then you opened your mouth and I just figured I was gonna need it. Now, why did you really follow me? Your room is just four down from mine.”
I blinked and hesitated, “I’m here… because…”
“If you don't have a good reason then I’m gonna kick you out and make you pay for everything I took out of that minibar.”
“I’m here because…”
She groaned and ran her fingers through her hair, “I honestly thought you were gonna apologize. Give me the fucking trail mix back.”
“What do I have to apologize for?” I clung to the trail mix like she was trying to take my baby away. She didn't bother trying to grab it, even though that would admittedly be an easy fight for her to win. She just stared blankly at me and I almost hated that more. “You’re acting like I’m the only one being an asshole here.”
She scoffed and sat down on the second bed that normally belonged to JJ, but I had a feeling that JJ wouldn't be using it tonight. “At least you're admitting you are in fact an asshole.”
“Jesus,” I groaned and sat up, “You know what your problem is?”
She sighed and leaned back onto her hands, “No, but I’m sure hoping you’ll tell me.”
“You're entitled,” I said. Her face didn’t change at all, almost as if on some level she knew that I was right. “You think that you’re better than all of us when in reality, you’re just a spoiled little girl that's used to getting everything she wants on a silver platter.”
She raised her eyebrows and bobbed her head, “You’re here to.. yell at me then, huh?” Her face wasn’t mad, something that on any normal occasion I would have noticed, but now I was too mad to pay attention to anything else.
“You started it! Oh my god, I can't believe I thought it was a good idea to-” 
I stopped talking when something changed. She had moved to stand right in front of me, she was closer to me than we had ever been before, and I saw something in her eyes that I only recognized in myself when looking at her. Her eyes were dark and stagnant, only sparing a few shallow glances at my lips. Suddenly I forgot why I was here.
“Spencer, if you don’t shut up and kiss me then were going to have to finish this argument tomorrow.”
So I did.
I did like I had been sitting here waiting for that approval, and to be honest, I think that I kind of was. I grabbed her and pulled her onto my lap, kissing her like I had been wandering the desert and I finally found my oasis. The kiss was a direct reflection on what our entire dynamic was, it was heavy and angry, hot like the weather and passionate like it was a battle that I set all my intentions on winning. My hands were curious and wandered the shape of her body like I was creating her out of clay, not leaving an inch of her unexplored. 
My lips wandered down to the flesh just below her jaw, mumbling in between sloppy kisses “You’re insufferable.” My words reverberated and tickled her sensitive skin.
“You love it.” She giggled, her breath hushed and her words more reserved than they’ve ever been before. I liked her better this way.
She exhaled a whimpered sigh when I started to nip and suck at her neck, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to hear just how good I could make her feel. She would hate to give me that satisfaction, but I knew that she wouldn’t have a choice. 
My fingers dipped underneath her shirt, and once she nodded I pulled it up and over her head, leaving her bare chest exposed to the overly air-conditioned room. I groaned at the sight of her, the cold air making her nipples harden.
“Fuck,” I groaned, before adjusting us so she was laying on her back and I was hovering on top of her. “I’ve been wanting to rip you apart for so long,” I muttered, reattaching my lips to her neck and kissing a path down to her chest.
“God,” she swallowed, “I wish you would have done it sooner.”
I wrapped my lips around her hardened peak, she yelped at the sensation and immediately started to squirm underneath me. My hand traveled around the mound of her other breast and started to knead it like dough. My teeth lightly nipped at her peak and she immediately cried out like I had been waiting for.
“Spencer!” She whimpered, causing me to laugh against her, “Hurry up, you asshole!”
“By the sounds of it, it seems you like that,” I smirked, allowing my hands to release her breast and trail her body at a painfully slow pace.
“Spencer!” She whined impatiently, so I removed my mouth from her other breast entirely, only causing her to whine some more.
“What's the magic word?” I asked, my fingers teasing the hem of her pajama shorts. I liked the way they felt between my fingers enough to stay here until she gave me what I needed from her, despite the bulge growing in my pants that was practically begging for attention-- unfortunately, Y/n was the one I needed begging from.
“Please.” She started, but it still wasn’t good enough.
“Please, what?” I pressed, raising my eyebrows as my fingertips traced her skin.
“You’re so mean, I hate you.”
I removed my hands from her and started to climb off the bed, “Okay then, why don't I just show myself out?”
“No, Spencer, please,” She grabbed my wrist urgently, making me stop and look at her expectantly. “Please, touch me. I need you to touch me or I will literally cry.”
“Much better,” I laughed before climbing back on top of her and pulling her pajama bottoms and underwear down her legs and discarding them to the side. She shyly closed her legs, but I counteracted by forcing them apart. I settled myself right in between her legs, moving her thighs to lay over my shoulders. I pressed a line of kisses from the inside of her knee down her thigh, right above the place where I knew she wanted me to be. Then I repeated on the other side. She exhaled a frustrated sigh, but she seemed to be holding back other, stronger opinions in fear that I might actually leave. But in all honesty, I’ve been thinking about this for so long that I would never leave.
I licked a single stripe up her slit, forcing a moan out from her lips as her thighs squeezed my head. Such a big reaction from such a small maneuver, I could tell she had been waiting for this longer than she’d ever care to admit. I looked up at her, and once she granted me eye contact I went back in. My tongue ran between her folds quickly, eating her out like I was starving. I teased her hole with my tongue and that made her go wild. She bucked her hips into my mouth, grinding on my tongue as shattered moans filled the air. Her body was squirming so much at my touch that I had to use one hand to grab her hips and hold her down against the mattress to restrict her. She tasted vaguely of honey and cumin, and my thoughts could confirm that I was definitely not going to stop.
I moved my lips up to her clit and circled around it, sucking on it and forcing a scream out from her throat. Her head was thrown so far back that her neck was exposed, mentally I noted that she needed to be marked there. The fingers on my free hand dragged up the inside of her thigh, traveling along the path I had created with my lips just moments ago.
Her moans were noncoherent word fragments, and although the sound was beautiful, I wanted to hear something else. So without warning, I plunged two of my fingers into her.
“Spencer!” She cried out the word I had been waiting for, as my mouth and my fingers worked together to bring tears of pleasure to her eyes. “F-Fuck, Spence, I- shit!”
My fingers curled in her, stroking the sensitive patch inside her while my tongue worked in circles around her clit. Her walls started pulsing around my fingers and it was a satisfying confirmation that she didn’t hate me nearly as much as she claimed she did. She was whining and crying, and I knew that if I didn't stop now then she was going to cum onto my tongue. I could imagine it now, her thigh squeezing tightly around my head, her hands in my hair as I finished her off with my tongue alone — But as nice as that sounded, I had another idea.
I slipped my fingers out of her and unattached my mouth from her clit. My hands stayed firm on her knees that planted her feet on either side of my body, and allowed me to see every part of her there was to see. She was dripping fluid of arousal down onto the duvet below us. The tent in my pants was growing ever more painful at the sight of her.
“Ugh, fuck you,” She laughed, covering her face with her hands. 
“Trust me, sweetheart, that's next on the list.” I chuckled before crawling up her body and letting my lips connect with her’s in a kiss that was tender, and almost sweet. We created a cocktail of tequila and her juices as we kissed, and I hoped that she could taste herself as well as I could. With my hands propping me up, her hands were the ones to travel down my body and pull my hard cock out from my clothes.
I hissed at the feeling of her warm hand around me, shocking in contrast to the cool air that was cascading down on us. I moaned into her mouth as her hand stroke me in a far too light touch, and I realized now why she was complaining so much when the situation was reversed. 
“Do we need a..?” I broke apart from her lips, but only barely.
She shook her head and looked at me with smiling eyes, “Pill.” She confirmed.
Immediately, I lined myself up with her entrance and slowly pushed myself all the way in. Our breaths both hitched at the intrusion, taking a minute to adjust. Then she nodded with her eyes still fluttered shut. She was wrapped so tightly around me, it felt like I was in heaven. Her walls thrummed a heartbeat around my cock, and despite all my desires, I stayed stagnant. She wiggled frustratedly underneath me.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby, is this all for me?” I asked, my voice strained and gravely.
“Yes,” She exhaled, finally locking eye contact with me, and not once letting it waver.
I slowly pulled out of her, before sinking back in, forcing a moan out from the back of my throat. Her hands snaked up my chest and around to the back of my neck, tugging softly at my curls with her eyes squeezed shut. I picked up the pace, fitting inside her so perfectly that I couldn’t help but wonder if this was supposed to happen. I thrusted into her forcefully and rhythmically, going along to the beat of the headboard hitting the wall as I fucked her into the mattress--probably alerting the whole floor (and our team) of our antics, but at that moment I honestly couldn’t care less.
With all my weight on one arm, I dragged my hand up her body and landed around her throat to match the necklace that hung there every day. 
“You like that?” I asked before applying any pressure, immediately she nodded with so much enthusiasm that I couldn't help but laugh. “Oh, I bet you do, dirty girl,” I spoke, squeezing my hand on the sides of her throat and watching arrogantly as she reacted. Her eyes fluttered shut as she lost herself in the feeling, so I did too. I felt her tight pussy fluttered around me and listened to my name escape her lips in soft, strained whimpers. All of it was too much. 
With my hand still around her throat, I kissed her in a connection that was far too soft for the moment. We ‘hated’ each other only twenty minutes ago, I should have told her all the things that I wanted to tell her whenever we fought. I wanted to tell her what a filthy whore she must be to like the way I choked her, I felt like I needed to bruise her and I felt like I needed to degrade her… but none of that felt right. Any feelings of resentment I had for her washed away as the ecstasy washed over me, and all I felt was what was left.
“You're so beautiful.” Were the soft words I whispered against her lips, and I bit her lower one before she could respond as I realized my mistake.
“Spencer,” She started through a moan, but I interrupted her thought, releasing my hand from around her throat and thrusting harder into her. “Fuck! Spence, I’m gonna--ah!” She moaned as she found her release. Watching her face as she lost herself in pleasure and feeling the way she clenched around me both urged me to finish too. My eyes squeezed shut and our moans melded together like the chorus of a song. Ecstasy washed over us, and filled me with the feeling of complete and utter relief of the pressure that must have been building up for as long as I’ve known her. My eyes were screwed so tightly shut, it seemed far too difficult to open them again. They were heavy, but when they opened, she was already looking into them. Her own were warm and gentle, so much more so than I remembered. 
We stayed there for a few long moments, looking at each other while our breathing evened. I made a realization tonight, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think that she felt the same thing.
I slipped out of her and with a certain begrudgingness I never expected to feel, I got up from the bed and I started to dress back up. I felt her eyes watching me as I did, and a blush came into my cheeks at the intrusion-- despite the fact that she had already seen everything there was to see.
“, we gotta clean you up. I’ll grab a towel.”
“Why don't we just take a shower together?” She asked as if it was a normal thing for us. She always seemed to be a few steps ahead of me, and this time I was making myself catch up. I shook my head no, but not because I didn’t want to.
“No, it's storming.”
She shrugged, “...So?”
“Lightning can travel through plumbing.”
She laughed, “What's the probability of that actually happening?”
I knew that that was probably a rhetorical question, but I had the information already stored in my brain so I just answered her anyway. “Meteorologist Ron Holle estimated that ten to twenty people in the united states are shocked annually while bathing, using faucets or handling appliances during storms,” I explained as I walked to the bathroom to get a towel, returning only for her to be staring blankly back at me.
“I don’t want you to die, is all.” I finished my point, wiping away all evidence of myself off of her.
“That's sweet of you,” She laughed, “I’m surprised.”
I finished wiping her down, and all the words that I had been dying to say all dissipated there from the pressure. So I didn't say anything.
I awkwardly started looking for my shoes, but I realized only then that I came here without shoes, which was even more awkward. I breathed in shakily and shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my pajama pants. I turned over my shoulder to look at her. She looked… sad.
“I… I’ll see you tomorrow.” I forced out. She opened her mouth to say the words that I could almost physically see her thinking of, but she hesitated before closing it again.
Then the loud sound of thunder crashing in the sky echoed in through the room like the booming sound of a gun, and Y/n flinched. I furrowed my eyebrows and she managed to force the thought out.
“What if you… stayed?” She finally asked. All the saliva in my mouth seemed to evaporate, leaving me dry and speechless.
“Y-You want me to… to stay?” I managed, questioning her as if she wasn’t abundantly clear.
“I’m… I’m scared of… thunder.” Her hands gripped the sheets like she was hammering for anchored security. 
“You are?” I asked, suddenly the riddler, apparently. She just shrugged. 
“Oh…um, okay.” I stuttered, hesitating before approaching her again. Avoiding eye contact like the plague as I awkwardly collected myself on the bed, still staying on top of the sheets. All of this was going really fast and I felt like it would be better if that was a line I didn’t cross yet. 
I felt her eyes on me, I turned to look at her and her eyes were confused but also amused.
“What, are you still scared of cooties?” she teased.
I furrowed my eyebrows, “No, cooties are a fictitious disease. I don't believe in them.”
“Then get under the covers…” She said, her face slowly melting back into that smile that on most occasions I’d find detestable. But I didn’t mind it anymore… it was a rather pretty smile. “I don't bite.” She added, as if she could tell that I was already thinking about her mouth. 
“Is it bad if I kind of wish you did?” I asked shyly, adjusting myself to be underneath the covers like she had invited.
“No, but now you have something to look forward to.” I widened my eyes at the implication that this would happen again, but it excited me far more than I could have imagined. She smiled wrapping her arm around me and cuddling into me. I tensed up at the touch at first. She looked up at me, “Is this okay?” She asked.
I swallowed and nodded, almost frantically, “Yes! Yes, it’s definitely okay.”
“O-kay.” She laughed, returning to her spot on my chest. 
I hesitated at first, not immediately sure where I was supposed to put my hands. But eventually the problem resolved, and I was the big spoon. I’ve never been any type of utensil before, so this was new, but certainly not all that bad. 
She quickly fell asleep, with soft snores escaping her lips. I knew she never got much sleep, though neither did I, so I was glad to see her drift off so quickly. She smelled good. I noticed that before, but now it was apparent and it wasn’t weird for me to think about. She smelled like vanilla and autumn, which just so happened to be my favorite season.
The thunder stopped before I fell asleep, but I didn’t stop. The rain persisted and grew louder, I could hear the drumming on the roof and the streets outside, and the noise managed to lull me to sleep while holding the snoring girl that I thought I hated in my arms.
But she was only scared of thunder. Tomorrow there would be no more storms, and she wouldn’t have any use for me anymore. We would go our separate ways and pretend that none of this happened. Right?
When I woke up, I thought that the succession of the last fifteen hours was a dream. Y/n was nowhere to be found, and the hotel room was identical to my own. Plus, the whole thing just felt … irrational considering our dynamic.
I sat up and yawned, my eyes looking around the room.
That was a very intricate dream then, I thought, I probably won’t be able to look Y/n in the eyes for a while.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up too quickly, consequently getting a head rush and having to sit back down. But then I saw a familiar fabric crumpled on the floor. It was Y/n’s sweatshirt. I honestly never expected myself to be so excited to see dirty laundry. 
Thank god it wasn’t a dream. But where was she?
I got out of bed again (slowly this time) and I checked the bathroom. She wasn’t there. The clock on my phone showed it was already two PM, so the breakfast place was closed. I could check with the team, but I had one last guess after that.
I stepped out in the hallway, the feeling of strangely moist carpet against my feet an uncomfortable reminder that I wasn’t wearing shoes… I had time for a detour. A couple doors down was the room I was supposed to share with Derek, something that obviously never ended up happening. I reached for my key but the door was unlocked, the doorstop keeping it from shutting. I narrowed my eyes and slowly pressed my palm against the wood. It opened. Derek was sitting on my bed, waiting for me like a parent who had caught me sneaking out.
“Hey… Derek.” I greeted slowly, kicking away the doorstop and shutting the door with my back.
“Where were you last night? Busy?” He pressed like we were in the interrogation room rather than a musty hotel. I couldn’t bring myself to be annoyed, however. I just had to bite back the smirk that fought to grow on my face. 
I nodded, “I guess you could say that.”
He smiled but quickly hid it again under his cover of a profiler in the same way I did. He leaned forward onto his elbows and waved me over to him. Hesitantly, I did.
“You knoooow…“ He dragged out, pointing his finger at me. I looked down at it and then back up at his face with a confused expression that begged him to get on with it. “I saw you go into Y/n’s room last night...but I didn’t see you come out.”
“That’s odd,” I lied, looking around the room like I was searching for her, “What happened to JJ?”
“She took your bed.” He gestured to my bed that was unmade despite the fact that I didn’t sleep there. I pouted my lips in thought. “What were you doing in there, pretty boy?” He said, no longer trying to hide the smirk on his face.
I blushed, but I could no longer help the way my pout formed into a smile.
“I, uh, I guess we were… reconciling.” Was the phrasing decided on, pulling my lower lip in between my teeth. It was… the least innocuous excuse I could think of that was still true.
“Oh I bet you were.” Derek laughed, getting up and patting me on the shoulder. “I bet you were.”
Derek headed towards the door, but one last thought popped into my head.
“Did you know she’s afraid of thunder?” I asked him through a small laugh. She had such a strong personality, but she was scared of updrafts in the atmosphere. It was cute. Derek turned around, looking confused. 
“No, she's not.” He squinted, looking me up and down as if he was looking for the physical cues of a lie… though I couldn't understand why someone would lie about that. ”She was talking my ear off the other day about missing the storms from her hometown... Why? Did she tell you different?”
“Um…” I furrowed my eyebrows and looked down at the floor as I thought, “Yeah.” 
It was a cover… she wanted me to stay, not because of the thunder, but because she wanted me to stay. I blinked and looked down at my hands, contemplating to myself what this could mean for the both of us.
“Huh.” Derek popped his eyebrows and started back towards the door. “Women are strange.”
Derek left the room and I got back on track. I got dressed and put real shoes on so I didn’t have to wander the hallways like a ghost that died in his socks. Navigating through the hotel, I found the 24-hour bar that I noticed while we were in the lobby last night. I walked in and I saw her there, the only one in the place besides the tired looking bartender. She was still in the sheep pajamas from last night, drinking a vodka martini with an olive impaled on a sword cocktail pick.
“How did I know I’d find you here?” I amusedly asked, taking a seat in the uncomfortable barstool next to her. She laughed and stirred the olive around her drink before finally looking up at me.
“How did I know you’d find me?” She rebutted, I just shrugged. She smiled and went back to her drink, it was nearing on empty and I wondered how many she’s had.
I gestured to the glass in her hand, “It seems a little early to be drinking, don’t you think?”
“It’s open 24 hours. They don’t mind that I’m here, do ya, Ted?” She said, talking to the bartender, Ted I guess his name was, who was cleaning a glass that was probably hers.
“Not as long as you tip.” He said plainly. She smiled and looked at me, before raising both her eyebrows and her glass, bringing the latter to her lips.
“How many drinks have you had?” I questioned. She smiled into her drink and shook her head.
“This is my first! I swear I’m not the drunk you think I am.” She put the glass back down. The sound of the crystal against the granite countertop filled the otherwise empty bar, which helped substantiate my next point.
“Yes, but it’s two pm.” 
She laughed breathily and finished off the drink, setting it back down without touching the olive like she normally would have.
“It’s 5 pm in Quantico.”
That wasn’t true, Huston and Quantico were only an hour apart timezone-wise, but I decided that argument was a useless cause.
“Are we…” I cleared my throat, glancing at Ted quickly before deciding that he didn’t care enough to eavesdrop, so I continued with a lower voice. “-gonna talk about what happened last night?”
She sighed and looked around the room with unfixed eyes, she seemed to be nervous. “I assumed that's why we’re talking right now, isn’t it?” She asked. I shrugged. “You want to… forget about it… and go back to hating me, right?”
I shook my head urgently, “I don't hate you,” It was the first time I admitted it out loud but seemed to be just as valuable for me as I meant it for her. “I never have.”
She narrowed her eyes and searched my face like she didn’t believe me, “...Really?”
“Welllll,” I bobbed my head, “You're annoying as shit sometimes, but no. I don't hate you.” 
She raised her eyebrows, “You’re a fantastic actor then.”
She seemed to want to end the conversation there, still twisting the olive in her empty glass like she was trying to fill the space before it got awkward, but we were already a bit past that point. I looked around one more time. Ted was cleaning tables that already looked clean, he was probably feeling just as awkward as us. I blinked and looked back at her.
“You're just…” I shifted on the stool as I tried to form my thoughts in a verbal way that made any sense, “A little hard for me to wrap my head around.”
“Why, because I’m so incredible?” She smiled, I just laughed. But then she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I don't hate you either, Reid,” she said instead of asking me to elaborate. Maybe she knew she was confusing sometimes, or maybe she felt the same way about me.
“I’m... glad.” I blinked. She laughed humorlessly, and almost… sadly. She tapped her fingers against the cold granite, her fingernails making a tapping noise that normally would have grossed me out, but I figured that now wasn’t the time to mention it. 
“All I ever wanted… was your approval.” I squinted my eyes at her, searching her face for bluff like we were in an interrogation room. She fidgeted with her hands underneath the bar and her eyes looked everywhere but mine… but she didn’t seem to be lying. She cleared her throat and continued, “Before me, you were the youngest and you were more accomplished at fourteen than I am now.” She finally looked up at me, but I didn’t say anything. I just listened. “I’ve seen your I’ve read your dissertations.” 
She swallowed and shook her head, “Coming in, I guess I expected you to be an asshole because… well, you’ve accomplished enough to be. But when I met you and you weren’t… it made me feel worse because of course you’re humble too, above everything else.”  She laughed and looked up at the ceiling, seemingly trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. I didn’t know what to say. “I treated you like an asshole for no reason… and for that, I’m really sorry.” 
She seemed to feel better now, like a weight had been lifted off of her. She ran her fingers below her eyes to pick up stray tears, like windshield wipers on the windows of the cars that were no doubt driving through the rain of the storm that had yet to settle.
“I’m sorry too,” I swallowed the lump that was growing in my throat from nerves, “I mean, I‘m a genius and stuff… but pretty girls make me do stupid, stupid shit.”
I saw a light flicker in her eyes as she picked out the part of that sentence that I managed to blow past entirely.
“You think I’m pretty?”
I laughed nervously, thinking that it was a given based on what we did last night. She is pretty. She’s absolutely gorgeous. But it made me nervous knowing that I had to admit that out loud.
“I… uh, yeah…” I rubbed the back of my neck, “Isn’t that obvious?”
She was smiling, but she held her lower lip in between her teeth to try and hold it back. But I saw, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“I think you’re pretty too.” She finally said. I blushed
We went silent again, but this time it was comfortable. But then she looked down at the olive, and she grabbed it by the handle of the plastic sword that was plunged into it. She held it out to me expectantly. I squinted my eyes and looked up at her with an amused half-smile.
“Olive branch.” She offered.
“This is a martini olive infused with alcohol,” I observed. 
“It’s an olive branch.” She insisted with a small giggle,  “Are you gonna take it or not?” She raised her eyebrows and moved the toothpick closer to me.
I sighed and accepted, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue. She put the olive on my tongue and I wrapped my lips around it. Slowly, she pulled the sword out from my mouth, watching me curiously as I ate it. I didn’t like the taste that much, I didn’t drink alcohol and I didn’t even like olives that much, but I couldn’t help but appreciate the slight twitch in her face as she watched. She swore under her breath.
“That was…” She cleared her throat as heat came into her face, “Fuck...That was really hot.”
My eyes and smile widened, equal with both surprise and enthusiasm.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked.
She looked around one last time as if anyone else would be in the bar at two in the afternoon. She looked back to me and spoke quietly so the dust bunnies in the corner couldn’t hear. 
“I’ll meet you in your room in five minutes?”
“Oh yeah.”
@imsuperawkward​ @peachesnchalamet​ @reidlusts​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @im-inlovewith-mycar​ @chaoticsteverogers​ @that-salty-h0e​ @httpnxtt​ @vellichor01​ @la-vie-en-amour1​ @sana-li​ @britishspidey​ @eternityofaxiom​ @101donuts​ @eideticprettyboyspencer​ @quillanpie​ @tiktokslut​ @capsassx3000​ @krazykatkay456​ @gia-kerks​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @patricks-fabulous-face​ @mylovehes​ @reidetic​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @andiebeaword​ @margotswhore​ @daviddoughboy​ @less-intelligent-spencerreid​ @peculiarinsomniac​ @winchestergirl907​ @yomama-umbridge​ @prettyboy-reid​ @smalluniversecollector​ @emilouu​ @wattpad-reads​ @ogmilkis​
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zhuzhubii · 11 months ago
15 reids for 15 seasons
i really like how these turned out
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close ups below the cut <3
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and an alternate version:
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i always wanted to be able to draw in this kinda storybook style when i was younger and now i actually can im so happy t-t keep practicing guys i promise it pays off <3
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mggpleasedontlookhere · 11 months ago
call out my name
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summary: y/n overhears jj confessing to spencer that she’s always loved him (do i even need to explain further how this made my heart drop into my ass)
word count: 3,118                                                                                     reading time aprox: 12 mins
The blood ran cold in my veins, making my arms shiver. My face paled an ugly rouge as the words left JJ’s supple lips; each phrase that strung out from her confession wrenched a small piece of my heart each time. It felt like a laceration to my throat, like my oxygen supply had been severed and I was unable to catch my breath.
I love you.
I have always loved you.
My lifeless eyes never tore away from the monitor that laid in front of me. In crystal clear pixels, there lay Spencer and JJ tied up in a convenience store with the unsub and two hostages. My body was visibly tense and my lips parted in bewilderment; the physiological and mental tether that dictated my reactions delayed.
I hadn’t even noticed Penelope gaping at me with doleful eyes, turning off her intercom so the rest of the team was unable to listen in. Although the same idea must have run through their heads as they swapped disconcerted looks at each other.
“Oh - my sweet Y/N - I don’t, do you want - oh -” Penelope stuttered empathetically, pushing herself off of her chair to gather an array of toys to comfort me. “I can - oh you can borrow my purple giraffe, that always makes me hap-” She continued, pushing the plushies into my chest.
“No, no I’m - Garcia I’m okay - thank you...tho” I reassured, gently guiding her back to her seat, despite her pitiful protests. Before she had the chance to argue against my reassurance, her attention was captured by Tara’s voice on the intercom.
“Hey Garcia can you check the satellite feed and see if there’s a side door to the building?” Tara requested. Although her tone was apprehensive and tame like she was tiptoeing around the question.
“Affirmative” Garcia replied enthusiastically, reaching a gentle hand over to where my hands laid on her shoulders. She ran her delicate fingers over my knuckles in a way to say a silent ‘it’s going to be okay’, leaning her head back against my stomach with a tenderness in her gestures.
“And - uh - Y/N? Are you okay?” Tara tentatively asked, in which Garcia proceeded to look into my somber eyes with an expectant gaze. As I saw her through my peripherals, I knew that she could sense my true feelings about the situation. Her eyebrows softened and her red painted lips dropped into a pout. She tilted her head cutely in an attempt to grasp my attention, but I knew the second I locked eyes with her, my facade would eventually dissipate. With the persistence to direct my eyes away from her incessant gaze, she knew.
Before I had the opportunity to reply to Tara, Penelope had beat me to it. “Y/N! She uh - she’s in the bathroom...right now” She explained, mustering up the calmness in her voice to sound convincing. Fortunately enough, the case had been the focal point of the unit for the past week that Tara hadn’t noticed the panicked wince that left Penelope’s lips.
“Garcia just-” Tara sighed, making Penelope’s chest tense up and soften simultaneously. “Just make sure she’s doing fine. Did she hear what JJ said?” She spoke with a sense of concern laced in her sentences, hoping that I was unbeknownst to JJ’s profession.
“Uh-” Garcia paused, looking to me for an answer with wide eyes. I shook my head in denial, not wanting the team to know of my knowledge. As much as I valued our team being a family, I knew I would receive burdened looks and multiple ‘nonchalant check-ups’ from Rossi. I didn’t want the word ‘victim’ painted on my forehead. “-No, she left the room before JJ said anything” Garcia affirmed, nodding her head yes, regardless of her unable to be seen.
“That’s good. Listen I’ll call you back when we get on the jet and keep an eye on Y/-”
“Oh! Y/N’s coming back - see you guys later” Penelope rushed, ending the call instantly before Tara could get out another word.
She swiveled in her chair, facing me once again. She took my hands in hers, standing up to pull me into her tight embrace. I relaxed in her touch, letting all the feelings melt away with every soothing word that permeated the room. Pulling away, she took surveillance of my state and furrowed her eyebrows in worry.
But it wasn’t my poignancy that sparked her perplexity, it was the lack thereof.
My cheeks should’ve been stained by an onset of tears, but it wasn’t. My eyes should’ve masked a similar pearl glaze that coated the film on Penelope’s eyes, but it didn’t. I should’ve been disheveled and overrun by overbearing anguish, but I wasn’t.
The numbers on the elevator rose expediently, indicating the arrival of the team. My hands shook in disquiet and suspense, my focus glued to my shoes as I felt my entire body get antsy. Penelope stood in front of me whispering a mellow encouragement, suggesting alleviating mantras that usually worked to calm her down.
Without another word said, the doors to the elevator dinged and revealed exhausted, yet relieved, adults. Although in the midst of it all, there was a heavy air of reluctance that surrounded the reunion, despite the gleeful interactions that were expressed through Penelope’s endearments.
I reveled in the sight of it all, feeling my heart swell at the inspiriting display of affection made by the team; a feeling that is often uncommon with our careers. I stood with my shoulders slumped, hands folded in my pockets, and at a distance from their reconciliation. It was only until I met the eyes of Spencer that my entire body flinched; and it was when I hadn’t met JJ’s gaze as she stared at the floor, when my heart fell flaccid at the bottom of my stomach.  
I approached Spencer with a fictitious content expression, not wanting to confront the issue at bay. I noticed his facial features contort from uneasiness to relief as he reciprocated the reassuring smile I wore for him. He took this as his cue to take hurried strides towards me to encase me with his arms in a bone crushing hug. For a split second I wanted to believe the fervor that swelled inside me while I surrendered in his embrace, but the wandering eyes of JJ had convinced me otherwise.
Spencer cupped both of my cheeks in his course hands, enthusiastically pulling me in for a long awaited kiss. But by instinct I yanked my face away from his hands forcefully, catching him and myself by surprise.
“I - um, sorry. I was having sushi with Garcia earlier and I don’t think you want to smell tuna breath” I joked, wiping Spencer’s touch off of my hands.
“Don’t be silly Y/N I haven’t seen you i-” Spencer persisted, reaching out to handle my wrists.
“Wait Spence - Spencer - um Spencer, I forgot to mention that Diana called earlier to check on you” I interjected, a guilty gut feeling resurfacing as I used his mother as a cheap excuse to divert the conversation. “Oh well, I was actually planning to visit her soon and I was going to ask you if you want to come wi-”
“I- I don’t know Spencer” I laughed, keeping up the phony disguise that I hoped was effective enough to bypass the room of profilers. “I just have a lot of paperwork” I justified, feeling myself shrink under his incessant scrutiny. His lips curled into a small pout and his eyes dulled for a moment. I stiffened in response, paranoid that he had discovered a chink in my armor. “Next time?” I offered, compensating for the lack of ardor in my decisions.
Despite my attempts at assuring him, his expression was still left to alter. By now the formalities between the team had ended, resorting to directing their attention to me and Spencer. Backing away from where Spencer stood, I met the wondering gazes of my peers. I gave a cordial nod to all of them, ignoring the obvious trepidation that was evident in their body language.
Receiving a final look from Penelope, I walked back to my desk, letting them plan their festivities without me.
A few weeks flew by since the incident. Despite the passage of time, the latter of the situation still sat heavy in my thoughts, consuming every waking moment I had.
The bags under my eyes became more prominent, the youthful glow on my cheeks had dimmed, and my voice diminished to a low mutter. The input I had contributed to cases followed the change in my demeanor, exponentially depreciating as the numbness increased.
Whenever I sat on my chair, my eyes would linger between Spencer’s desk that sat across JJ’s. At times the sight would invoke a bubbling envy that felt too visceral for me to experience, so I would set my emotions to the side; averting my effort into my paperwork.
Eventually as the cases became more gruesome and my mental paralysis ensued, I gradually reverted to writing up the paperwork instead of participating in active cases. Unfortunately the unanticipated change in my behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Emily called me into her office with a sense of urgency, and we’re both now here sitting across at a distance while she stared at me with a motherly look. Concentration was etched in her facial features, folding her hands together as she tried to dissect the impenetrable expression I wore.
“Emily please don’t profile me” I sighed, a tired grimace playing on my lips. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, leaning back into her chair as she continued to observe me. “I’m just worried Y/N - WE are all worried” She lamented, reaching over to grasp my hand. “You haven’t been yourself in a while Y/N. Did - is something, did something happen? Did you...find anything that made you upset?” She pursued, tiptoeing around the idea of JJ’s confession.
“NO! I, um - I haven’t - I just” I struggled to form coherent sentences, feeling panic flood through my system. “Look Emily, I appreciate the concern, but I’m just not feeling okay and I really don’t want to talk about it” I admitted. “I- I know it’s a lot, but w- would it be okay if I take a couple of personal days - I just can’t seem to figure myself out” I muttered, letting a fragment of my feelings slip into my profession.
“Take as many days as you’d like - and give me a call when things are...handled - just know that if you need anything - and I mean anything - you ca-”
“Thank you Emily” I nodded, cutting her off abruptly. I stood up from my seat with my head hanging low, giving her a tight lipped smile as I made my way to exit her office.
“Y/N!” She called out, stopping me in my tracks. I titled my head to the side, glancing at her. “Take care of yourself...please?” She desperately pleaded, her words laced with genuine concern.
For the first time, my heart ached at her words. The bitter feeling trickling into reality as the sorrowful eyes she beamed at me penetrated through my skin. It was then that I realized that the armor I wore to shield me from Spencer was really to shelter me from myself.
Spencer’s POV
My back slumped into the office chair while I played with the Doctor Who knick-knacks that Garcia had gifted to me at a Christmas party. My eyes were focused on the toy, but my mind had astral projected to another place: a place that wasn’t pleasant. The thoughts that were weighing heavy on shoulders had taken its toll on my arms, legs, and body like I was slowly being pulled away from reality into a dimension of isolation.
Although the only feeling I was allowed to experience was this nagging sensation in the back of my head, a thought that permeated my headspace, but wasn’t allowed to be identified or understood. I thought it was the aftermath of JJ’s confession, but that was handled during Rossi’s wedding.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know.
I didn’t know what had been circling in my head and I didn’t know how to control it. All I knew is that Y/N had taken a few sick days and that Emily had informed me that she hadn’t heard of JJ’s confession. But those days turned into weeks until a month had passed.
In the beginning of her leave, I’d call her everyday and occasionally visit her apartment whenever we were on a case, she would even call in to check on everybody. But like how the seasons change and the leaves start to decay, her efforts soon became stagnant. Soon after, my calls would be left unanswered, my visits to her apartment ceased due to no one responding, and she would only answer to Garcia.
I missed the way she would waltz into the office with the brightest grin she can offer and every time I’d look into her eyes, it felt like I had a glimpse into what heaven is. I missed the way she would curl up into my arms and breath in my scent, while we shared a book. I missed the way she’d bring the most wonderful orchestra to the moments where I felt my world become overrun by deafening silence. She had done nothing but bring love and devotion into everything she does.
So what dimmed the spark that usually burned interminably in her?
I set the trinket down to the side, taking a needed breath as my eyes were caught by a small picture frame that was delicately placed at the corner of my desk. An elated smile replaced the tired grimace I had been sporting all week, a newfound warmth filling my chest up with a familiar radiance.
It was a picture of Y/N when me and her had visited Central Park to ice skate. In the image she was in mid air, her eyes were shimmering against the snow that fell around us and she was laughing, a melody that I can still hear just by looking at a reminiscence of her. She was and still is the epitome of beauty.
I was taken out of my thoughts when a frantic Penelope zoomed through the bullpen with an unnerved look. She was caught in the arms of Emily, stopping her in her tracks and encouraging her to breathe. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and her hair was disheveled.
“I - I, oh my god - I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry - I w- wasn’t, it’s my fault - I wasn’t honest” She sputtered out, her hands shaking beside her as she tried to form proper sentences.
By this time the team had surrounded her as they witnessed her frenzy. I watched from afar as JJ and Tara came to Penelope’s side, consoling her. Luke and Matt joined me, watching the event unfold from a distance like I did.
“Is- is she okay? Did something happen?” Luke inquired, his words laced with panic and worry. I shook my head looking to Matt if he had any intel, but he also denied it. “Okay, I’m gonna go and see what’s-” Luke began, before getting cut off by Emily announcing an emergency meeting.
We all gathered around the round table, anticipation engulfing the air and each one of our faces. Penelope sported a perturbed expression while Emily stood behind her with a similar troubled look.
I folded my hands on the table while my legs had gotten antsy from the silence as everyone filed into the room. Finally when everyone was seated, Luke was the first one to break the quietude. “Is everything okay Penelope?” He asked.
It didn’t take a profiler to notice how Emily’s behavior shifted when Alvez spoke. Her shoulders had flinched, her breath had shortened, and her hands had risen up to Penelope’s shoulder in an attempt to encourage her to elaborate. These were the indications that usually meant an onslaught of bad occurrences, but I only had understood Penelope’s concern when Y/N’s name had surpassed her lips.
“What - What do you - What do you mean Y/N?” I blurted out, feeling my heart drop into my stomach. My hands traveled to the pockets of my blazer, feeling sweat begin to accumulate in my palms. My breath hitched at the mention of her, hoping and praying that she was alright.
All the attention had been directed to me, but at the moment I would have cared less if Newton or Pascal was staring at me. It was as if my heart and my mind were tethered together to create a perfect storm that could obliterate me. I searched Penelope’s eyes for direct answers, but she refused to meet my gaze.
“Garcia!” I instinctively called out, making her flinch in terror, which I ultimately regretted as she was already in such a distressed state. “I- I’m sorry. Penelope...what’s happening with Y/N?” I whispered, softening the tone of my voice, cautious of letting my voice crack knowing that the team would dissect my reaction.
She sighed, looking to Emily for help in which Emily nodded at her to continue. “She knows” Penelope admitted, lifting her eyes to finally meet mine. “Sh- she heard what JJ said, and now she’s n- not even talking to me” She sighed, her breath hitching between every phrase she enunciated.
I felt my body freeze, but I didn’t know if it was either in fear, anger, or disappointment in myself. My emotions had become a cluster of hell that would continue to haunt me until I figured things out; until I could fix things with Y/N.
I sensed the apologetic glances I received from JJ, but despite my acknowledgement of her intentions, the festering indignation I was feeling against her had jaded any compassion I had.
“Spence-” JJ apprehensively spoke with a motherly tone.
“Don’t! I-”
My eyes were glued to the table, blocking out any attempt that the team made to pursue a conversation with me. My hands fidgeted as I racked my brain for a concise solution, although the process wasn’t as easy as I’d like since my conscious had been enveloping itself with self reproach. But in the end, I knew where I wanted to be - where I was meant to be.
Without a second thought, I promptly stood up from the chair and fled the bullpen with no attention to how JJ was calling out my name.
part 2
taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie
part 2 coming out tmrw or the day after that
see you soon <3
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isthisthingeven0n · 11 months ago
number eleven : s.r
a serial killer is at large in atlana, carving numbers into his victims and throwing their bodies from rooftops. yet, things seem to hit a little too close to home for your liking, and sadly you get caught up in it all (4.2k)
( this is an original idea of mine, I’ve gone based off what I know in the show but the killer is made up! pls do not steal my concept without at least asking, and i hope you enjoy :) )
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“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”
“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”
The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”
Two Days Earlier
“Hey, Spencer,” You smile as you walk through the doors to the bullpen, two cups of coffee in hand as you place onto his desk. “how was the Doctor Who convention?”
Out of everyone in the team, you were the only one to pay attention to the small details Spencer shares. You always have done, ever since you first joined the BAU, you noticed the subtle eye rolls as he rambled on with facts and statistics so you made sure to always pay attention.
Lifting his head up, Spencer can feel a smile tugging his lips as you take a seat at your desk adjacent to his. “You would’ve loved it. They had the original designs from the Cybermen’s first appearance in 1966, ‘The Tenth Planet’ and for the time, it was high tech stuff.” He explains whilst you listen contently, oblivious to the others watching you both.
“God, they’re so into each other it hurts.” Emily sighs as Penelope nods along.
JJ walks over to the girls, catching sight of what they’re fixated on. “Why can’t they just say something? I mean, it’s been three years.” Penelope questions, but JJ simply chuckles.
“This is Spencer and Y/n we’re talking about.” JJ comments. “For one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Spencer can be stupid sometimes.” She states, returning her focus to how you look at Spencer as he talks, but also how willing Spencer is to be close to you and laughs at your input in between his rambles.
“I bet twenty dollars he’ll say something by the end of the year.” Rossi chimes in, but Emily scoffs. 
“Dream on, Rossi.” She comments, but Rossi shrugs his shoulders. 
Hotch exits his office, catching a glance from the girls who quickly stand up straight. “We’ve got a new case,” He announces, passing between you and Spencer on the way.
As you all enter the board room, you sit beside Spencer as you look at the tablet in front of you whilst he sticks to the original file.
“Within the past few months in Atlanta, Georgia, at least nine women have been found dead having fallen from rooftops, all in their twenties, latest victim was Caroline Kutes, twenty-three. Last seen having gone for a run after her shift at a local diner.” Penelope explains as you scroll through the images, seeing what was left of them from the crime scene.
“It’s not some suicide pack, is it?” Morgan speaks up, but Penelope shakes her head.
“I’m glad you asked, sugar.” She turns her back as she pulls up more images, displaying the victims left forearms. 
“Numbers?” You question, zooming in onto the number three having been carved into the victim's flesh. “Someone’s keeping track.”
“So we know there are nine confirmed victims of this unsub then, it’s not a suicide pack.” Hotch states. “The police have requested our insight on the case, wheels up in thirty.”
Closing the tablet you push your chair back. “You alright?” Spencer asks you as everyone begins to file out.
You force a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, just some cases are never easy.” You mutter before heading out and grabbing your things.
Arriving straight to the latest crime scene, Hotch splits the team up. “Prentiss, I want you and Morgan to go to the rooftop, see if there’s anything left by the unsub or Caroline Kutes. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the morgue to take a look at the carvings and if there’s any other sign of torture.”
With that, you climb into a car with Spencer, looking at the drop from the building to where Hotch stands. “One hell of a fall.” You whistle as the driver pulls away, Spencer not missing your comment or how you’ve been wiping your hands over your pants since you arrived.
Standing in the morgue, Spencer took the lead as you stood back whilst bodies were examined. “There isn’t any sign of sexual assault on any of the women, but there are bruises across the neck and the carvings on the arm.” The diener explains. “From the fall she suffered several broken bones, a collapsed lung and a crack to her skull along with internal bleeding.”
“Are you saying she was alive when she hit the ground?” You speak up, stepping closer to see how they’ve managed to clean up the victims face, what remains from the large gash in her head.
“Yes, but only for a minute. She chocked to death on her own blood.” The diener states and you can’t help but feel a shiver through your spine.
“It’s most likely the unsub approached these women, if Caroline was out for a run, he might’ve asked her for directions or grabbed her. If she was grabbed, it would explain the bruising on the neck in an attempt to cut the circulation off to the brain, rendering her unconscious.” Spencer suggests, looking over to you as you remain too quiet for his liking. “You in there?”
Snapping out from your thoughts, you nod. “So the unsub approaches these women, tries to strangle them and then takes them to a rooftop. He isn’t sexually assaulting these women, but why throw them off a roof?”
“If he’s trying to pose it as suicide, it’s unusual for women to throw herself off a roof, it’s too dramatic. If a woman were to commit suicide, she’d overdose or drown herself. A subtle way to go.” Spencer explains as you nod along. “It’s almost as if he’s apologetic. He wants them to suffer, but can’t inflict the pain besides carving a number into their forearm.” Spencer looks over the number on Caroline’s arm. “You can see in some area’s he didn’t go deep enough with the knife, he’s dug in multiple times to carve out enough skin to make it bleed.”
“Maybe he’s a narcissist? Keeping track of his victims, making sure no one else can take the limelight for these girls.” You state. “I mean, he knows he isn’t going to get caught by the girls. Based on Caroline, she could barely move let alone tell anyone who did this.”
“I’ve seen countless bodies from suicide by jumping from buildings. It’s a rarity if you survived such a fall like this.” The diener tells you. “Clearly they knew what they were doing.” 
“Contrary to popular belief, when the body falls from a height their head does not splatter onto the ground. Their bones will break and splay out, but if you were to fall from say a 48 feet building you’re most likely to live with a 50% chance of surviving.” Spencer explains, and you nod along. 
“But our unsub picks tall buildings. Office blocks, malls, parking lots.” You tell Spencer who hums. “He knows they’re not going to survive the fall.” 
“Yes, but statistically,” Spencer begins, but your phone begins to ring cutting him off. 
“Sorry, Spence.” You tell him with an apologetic smile before moving out from the morgue, taking the phone call. “Yeah?” 
“Ah, my sweet angel. Have you found Cupid’s arrow yet?” Penelope chuckles, causing you to roll your eyes. “How’s the case going? No one’s called to update me on the gruesome details.” 
You sigh quietly. “Honestly, Pen, you’re lucky.” You tell her. “And what’d you mean by Cupid’s arrow?” 
Penelope groans loudly through the phone, and you can hear her head hitting the keyboard before she apologises to it. “Y/n, how are you so pretty yet oblivious to the attraction of one Spencer Reid?” 
“I, what?” You stumble over your words as you look over your shoulder to see Spencer staring back at you with a small smile on his lips as he waves to you. “I, he, Spencer? No,” You scoff, trying to think about anything else to reduce the spike in your heart rate. 
“I’m no profiler, but I know things,” Penelope states. 
“You’ve got it all wrong, Pen. Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no way he could ever like-” 
“Y/n?” Spencer calls out, now standing in the doorway in front of you. “Hotch wants us to meet him, has a potential lead.” 
“Sorry P, I gotta go.” You tell Penelope before she has the chance to say anything else and hang up the phone. 
Walking alongside Spencer, you can’t help but notice how close he is to you. For someone who is a bit of a germaphobe, he’ll always sit with you before anyone else. During a flight last month with bad turbulence, he held your hand in his as you began to fall asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. You woke up concerned he’d mind, but Spencer just smiled and offered his shoulder any time. 
“So, what’s the lead?” You ask as you walk into the police precinct, finding the rest of your team in a small room as boards with pictures have already been set up. 
“I’ve checked with Garcia about the possibility that whoever is doing this must have some form of access to each of these buildings. There has to be something tying them together,” Prentiss begins. 
“Like a cleaning company, or security?” JJ suggests. 
Emily nods before grabbing a file and reading directly from it. “SecureO is a security company based all over Atlanta. They have hundreds of security guards working at various office blocks, department stores, parking lots. You name it, they’ve got people there.” 
“And our unsub works for them?” You question, looking at the file to see the hundreds of names. “How are we supposed to find him?” 
Hotch reaches out to call Garcia. “And here I thought you forgot about me.” Penelope states through the line, and Morgan smiles to himself. 
“Garcia, can you take a look at the employee records for SecureO and crosscheck to see if any of them have criminal records.” Hotch asks as you listen intently to Penelope typing away. 
“Okay, fifty-seven members of staff have criminal records.” Penelope states.
“How about any with troubled pasts? Maybe this guy is using these women as a form of release. He’s not sexually assaulting them, so it’s less likely to be about an ex, maybe it’s more personal.” You suggest, and Spencer scans through the file once again before looking back at the victims on the board.
“You, my pretty might be onto something,” Garcia chirps. “right, there are twelve members of staff who grew up in the foster system. I’m sending their details over to you right as we speak.”
“Wait, Penelope,” Spencer calls out and Hotch raises his head. “how many of those twelve lost family? Basing on their age and strength, he must be at least in his late twenties or early thirties. Try looking up any accidents in the state in the late eighties to early nineties.”
“Thinking he might have never left the state?” Morgan questions, his arms crossed over his chest.
Clearing his throat, Spencer stands taller beside you as you glance up at him with a reassuring smile. “Looking at all these women, they’re all young and pretty. Anyone who grew up in the system is less likely to leave the place they’re comfortable in. If our unsub grew up in Georgia, he would’ve stayed here and have gotten a job at eighteen. SecureO has been around for twelve years, and five of these employees have been around since it began.”
“Okay, I’ll send across anything once I’ve found it.” Penelope speaks up and hangs up the phone.
“Good work, Reid. Let’s go deliver the profile.” Hotch nods as he leads the way out of the room, Rossi patting Spencer’s shoulder as he departs.
“Not too shabby, Doctor.” You nudge Spencer playfully and he softly chuckles as you walk out.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/n.” He mutters under his breath as you walk out of earshot.
Entering the station the next morning, you looked around as solemn expressions greeted you.
“What’s happened?” You ask, taking a seat beside Spencer who notions to JJ.
“Another victim was found in the early hours of this morning. Amelie Hartnell, twenty, was discovered on top of a dumpster in a back alley below a seven-story abandoned office building.” JJ passes over the file to you as you flick through the images whilst you hold your breath.
“She was only twenty,” You mutter to yourself, unaware of Spencer eyeing you carefully. “there’s something about the carving on her, it isn’t as deep. You can see it’s a lot shallower than the others.” You explain.
“He was in a rush this time.” Morgan states. “But if it was an abandoned building, who was going to see him?”
“I’m not sure,” Hotch mutters. “call Garcia, see if she’s found anything yet about those five employees.” 
“On it. Baby girl,” Morgan comments before exiting the room. 
“You seem tired, Y/n.” Rossi speaks up, and you lift your head up to see the concern in his eyes. “Is something bothering you?” 
Shaking your head, you dismiss the matter as the team look over at you. “I’m fine, just thinking about a few things. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You tell him, but Spencer can tell there’s something else underlying you’re not saying. “Excuse me, I just need some air.” You mutter before exiting the precinct. 
Watching you walk away, Spencer sighs. “Well, go follow her,” Rossi motions to Spencer who quickly gets up and exits the room. “these kids, I swear.” He mutters to himself once Spencer is out of sight.
As you walk out, you take a deep breath, clearing your thoughts. “Y/n,” Spencer calls out and you turn around, forcing a smile. “something’s clearly bothering you.” He states as you move away to sit on a bench whilst Spencer hovers beside you. 
“When I was growing up, I had a friend, Sylvia,” You start, and Spencer watches as you brush your hands over your pants once more. “she moved to Savannah and we just grew apart, but I’ll never forget her brother, Killian.” 
Spencer sits down beside you, your leg touching his as he reaches out and takes your hand. “Y/n, what was it about Killian?” He questions quietly. 
“He was always there, just watching us.” You mumble, remembering those bright blue eyes always in the background, never leaving you or Sylvia. “But, their parents, they died in a car crash when Sylvia was thirteen, Killian was fourteen.” You begin to explain as you exhale a shaky breath. 
Squeezing Spencer’s hand, he shushes you. “It’s okay, just, take it one memory at a time.” He reassures you as your eyes remain tightly shut. 
“From what I know, Sylvia couldn’t take it, losing her parents,” You swallow the lump in your throat as you open your eyes, focusing on Spencer’s. “she killed herself, by jumping off of the roof of a mall.” 
“Just like the first victim.” Spencer mutters as he quickly stands up. “We gotta tell Hotch.” 
“Why didn’t you mention this sooner, Y/n?” Hotch stressed as he frowns at you, but Spencer remains by your side as you keep your focus on the team, eyeing the photos behind Emily. 
“I suppressed a lot of memories from when I was growing up, I forgot all about Killian and Sylvia, but seeing these photos it just made me think back to it all.” You explain, looking around at all of your team. “I’m sorry for holding back.” You apologise, and JJ smiles as she walks over, hugging you lightly. 
“Garcia, can you look up Killian and Sylvia Atwork?” You speak up into the phone and Penelope begins to type rapidly before pausing.
“Oh my god,” She mutters. “Killian has been working at SecureO for ten years. He was employed when he turned eighteen and is in charge of the security footage for various locations.” 
Hotch rises to his feet. “We have to inform the police department and the news outlets, JJ, can you sort a press conference?”
“I’m on it.” JJ states as she begins to call her contacts, taking the call in another room.
“Y/n, we might’ve just had a break in the case because of you, thank you.” Hotch comments and Rossi gives you a subtle thumbs up. “Garcia, I need you to look at any other buildings that SecureO are in charge of the security systems, see if our unsub is heading to any of these next. If we’re lucky, we’ve got enough time to stop him killing again.”
“Will do, Sir.” Penelope calls out from the phone.
“You think we’ll get him in time?” You speak up, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.
“Hopefully.” Hotch sighs and JJ walks back in.
“Ready when you are, Hotch.”
* The plan was simple, and it should’ve been effective. All of you were teamed off into pairs. Prentiss and Morgan, JJ and Rossi, Hotch and the chief of police whilst you went with Reid.
“I’m proud of you, Y/n.” Spencer mutters as you sit beside him in the car on route to the office block about ten minutes west of the station. “Without you, we might not have gotten to this point.”
Spencer can’t help but feel warm inside as you smile up at him. “You think so?”
“I know for a fact.” He states as his hand reaches out to yours as he pulls up to the building. “Just keep an eye out, and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Again.” You add as you close the car door, securing your vest on as the pair of you begin to head up to the roof of the building, you leading the way.
“Any sign, Y//L/N?” Hotch asks through your earpiece.
Looking around, you keep your gun extended in front of you as you quietly open the door to the roof. “Negative.” You state, turning the corner as you continue to search the place whilst Spencer is still coming up the stairs.
“Reid, my dead grandmother could’ve gotten up those stairs faster than you.” You joke playfully as he comes into sight, the sun beginning to set behind you illuminating his hazel eyes as they widen.
“Y/n!” Spencer yells, but you’re too slow to react as an arm is tightly holding your neck whilst a knife is being pressed against your back beneath the vest.
“Long time no see, huh, Y/n?” Killian mutters into your ear as he begins to drag you back as you sight against him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, this can end one of two ways, I prefer to keep this clean.”
“We need back up and medics at 1238 Meadow Lane, I repeat, we need backup. Killian is here, he, he has Y/n.” Saying that through the comms immediately causes his heart to sink as tears fill your eyes.
“We’re coming now,” Hotch announces, and you can hear the sound of sirens across the city as Killian drags you toward the edge of the roof with you in front of him.
“Spence,” You focus on Spencer’s face as his gun remains out, directed at Killian’s head. “what are the statistics of surviving this?” You ask him as a tear falls down your cheek.
“Y/n,” Spencer starts, but you shake your head as you fight against Killian, taking shallow breaths as he continues to apply pressure to your windpipe.
“Please,” You breathe out as Killian chuckles against you. “I need to know.”
The truth of the matter is you know your odds of making it out alive are slim to none, but you wanted to hear Spencer ramble one last time. 
“From a building like this, a ten-story drop your odds aren’t great, in fact, falls from ten-story buildings have a 90% chance of death.” He explains, his gun now shaking in his hand as he pictures you on the ground below, bleeding out. “Those, those who survive can be paralysed if they land on their backs, permanent brain damage from skull fractures or,” Spencer stops himself as Killian focuses on him.
“Do finish Doctor Reid, I’m enjoying this.” Killian states, and you shudder at the fact he’s finding this entertaining.
“In cases like Sylvia, she survived but was left to bleed out.” Spencer finishes, and your eyes widen. “You see, Sylvia wasn’t suicidal like we thought. She was just in the wrong place, wasn’t she, Killian?” Spencer steps closer, but you wince as you can feel the knife starting to pierce your skin.
“No, Sylvia killed herself. I, I saw it.” Killian yells, tightening his grip around your neck as your hands lie limply by your sides. “I would never hurt her.”
“Not intentionally,” Spencer comments. “you were playing, and you knocked her, didn’t you?”
Killian shakes his head. “No! She jumped!” You can feel his heart beating against you. “She jumped and never said goodbye, she left me all alone.” He cries out.
“Killian, I’m sorry.” You manage to say. “It wasn’t your, your fault.”
“She left me here.” He spits at you. “Everyone else moved on, but I was left with the guilt.”
“There’s always another way, Killian.” You speak softly, focusing on Spencer. “But if this is it,” You start, but Spencer shakes his head. “Spencer, I’m so sorry.” You let your tears fall freely down your cheeks as Spencer steps closer.
“Y/n, don’t do this.” Spencer tells you.
“I love you Spence, but please, please be strong for me.” You can feel yourself beginning to slip out of consciousness as Killian continues to apply more pressure around your neck.
“There’s another way out, Killian. I promise you, just let Y/n go.” Spencer is yelling at the top of his lungs as Killian simply laughs.
“You think there’s another option? You sure you’re a Doctor, kid?” Killian scoffs.
“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”
“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”
The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”
Closing your eyes, you embrace the feeling as Killian falls backwards, taking you with him.
“NO!” Spencer screams, running over as Killian lets go of you at the last second.
Spencer grabs a hold of your hand, but within a split second, it slips. “Spence,” You cry out as you hang on to the ledge of the building with all your might.
The sound of Killian hitting the floor only worsens your fear as Spencer begins to pull you up. All you can hear is the sound of your heart in your ears as the sirens dull behind you whilst Spencer is yelling in front of you, yet you can’t hear any of it. 
“Come on, Y/n, stay with me!” Spencer screams as another pair of hands appear by his side.
“Come on, we’ve got you.” Hotch states, pulling you up with Spencer and away from the ledge.
Immediately you fall into Spencer’s arms, your hands gripping his arms as you sob into his chest. “It’s okay, I’m not letting go.” Spencer holds you tightly as he looks up at Hotch, his expression saying more than words can.
“We need a medic!” Hotch yells as three men appear, checking over you as you remain sat with Spencer on the roof, far away from the ledge.
“You’re okay,” Spencer tells you as you go quiet, going into shock as the medics help you out from the building and into the ambulance as your team stands by.
“Oh thank god.” JJ blurts out as Spencer exits the building, enveloping him into a tight hug. “Are you alright?” She checks as she pulls away, but Spencer can’t help himself as he focuses on you in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in foil as the medics check you over.
JJ follows Spencer’s gaze and can’t help but force back her smile.
“Go on, you should be with her.” She assures him, but Spencer pauses.
“Y/n told me she loves me.” Spencer quietly tells JJ who quirks an eyebrow. “You, you knew didn’t you?”
JJ chuckles under her breath. “Spence, we all knew. But she doesn’t know you love her too, does she?”
Spencer shakes his head as he glances back over to you, seeing you being given the all-clear as you begin to rise to your feet.
Immediately, Spencer darts over to help you, his hand resting on your waist as you look up at him. “Spence, I,” You stumble over your words, watching as Killian’s body is being transported away in the body bag.
“Hey, don’t focus on that,” Spencer rests his hand on your cheek. “you’re alive, and I guess you beat the statistic.” He states, listening as you laugh lightly.
“Probably because I didn’t fall.” You add.
“But you almost did, and, and I would never have had the chance to tell you this,” Spencer tells you.
“Tell me what?” You ask, looking up at him with hesitation.
Spencer opens his mouth and after exactly three years, two months and nine days of knowing you and falling in love with you, he cannot find the right words to string together. “In the English language. there are 171,476 words. I’ve only ever needed three of them to tell you how I feel, but I can’t even do that properly.” He laughs uneasily as he focuses on you.
Lifting your hand up, you rest it on the back of his neck as you rise to your tiptoes. “Is this okay?” You whisper.
“More than okay,” Spencer responds before his lips are on yours.
You can hear Rossi cheering in the background as Hotch tries to shush them all but secretly is proud of you both. Having seen the way you gripped Spencer’s shirt when he saved you on that roof, he knew it was about time something would finally happen.
Pulling away from the kiss, you laugh lightly. “I take it the feeling is reciprocated then?” You question, and Spencer smiles.
“I’m never letting you go again.” He mumbles into you as you rest your head against his chest, hoping that promise will remain intact.
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Saturday Morning
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Summary: Spencer can’t resist a little quality time when you both wake up earlier than your daughter for once.
A/N: Here’s a little morning sex with Dad!Spencer smut! I hope you enjoy it! As always, comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, love you!
Pairing: Dad!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Warnings/Includes: cursing, smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!
Word count: 2k
Request: This is a mish-mash of requests from my main along with this gif, all put together 
You’d grown accustomed to waking up to some loud noise or harsh wail coming from another room. You always seemed to wake both startled and completely unsurprised by the situation you were bound to head into. Having a child had all but tanked your sleeping schedule.
There was a little reprieve when she first started sleeping through the night, but that didn’t last all that long before she was able to walk. And now if you didn’t wake up from the noise, you usually woke up when she wandered into your bedroom demanding something or other.
And that went double when Spencer was home. She missed him even more than you did while he was away. She seemed to have this sixth sense for when she knew he’d come home in the middle of the night. Bursting in early in the morning just to climb into bed with you and snuggle up next to her dad.
But today was different. When you woke up and felt Spencers arms tucked around you it was a more than welcome surprise after falling asleep in an empty bed. What was even better though, was taking a peep at the clock and noticing just how early it was, plenty of time before your little girl was sure to barge in unannounced.
When you jostle about just a little it seems to stir Spencer awake too, and you hear a croaky little “good morning” whispered against your ear.
“Good morning to you too” you crane your neck around just enough that you can see his sleepy face and his half lidded eyes, and you place a kiss on his gently curved lips and they just break into a wider smile.
“I missed you,” he breathes, “a lot.” he pulls you in closer so your back is pressed tight up against his chest, and then his lips are brushing so light against your exposed neck that you feel like you must be dreaming.
“Spence” you giggle, “You know what she’s like, she’s gonna come flying through that door any second” you reach one of your hands back to rest in his hair, but he doesn’t let up. His kisses grow harsher until his teeth are grazing against the sensitive skin below your ear and you can’t even stifle the soft moan that escapes your throat.
“Fuck, I missed you so much” he groans, “missed that sound” as he speaks his hands start to roam along your body, drifting up from your stomach to grab at your breasts over your t-shirt, squeezing gently causing you to whimper just a little. And then he’s grinding up against your ass and it’s unmistakable.
“Spence, are you- ah… hard?” you gasp, but he doesn’t respond verbally, he just grinds against you with more vigor, one of his hands resting on your hip and helping you rock back against him.
“Fuck okay, she’s probably still asleep, but we’ve gotta be quiet” you finally concede and he groans against your neck. Now that he’s unafraid to hold back his hands make their way down your body, teasing at the hemline of your panties.
“We both know I’m not the one that has trouble keeping quiet” he chuckles, running his fingers in tantalizing strokes along the elastic. “I bet you’re soaking wet already. How much did you think about this while I was away?”
As he waits for your response his fingertips finally breach the hem, moving further down to trail in between your folds, gathering the wetness along his fingers.
“Everyday” you gasp as his fingers brush up against your clit, running in lazy circles around it.
“I’m sure you did” he growls as two fingers push inside of you slow and deliberate. You can feel his hot breath against you ear as he works them in and out of you steadily and you bite your lip to keep from moaning. But it doesn’t really work when he hits up against one of your walls and you let out a small cry. So he pulls his fingers out then, leaving you desperate and wanting.
“P-please, no” you mumble, grabbing at his wrist.
“You’re gonna need to be a hell of a lot more quiet if you want my cock honey” he reprimands, fingers tugging at the elastic of your panties, an encouraging sign. So you give in and nod.
“My lips are sealed” you whisper, turning backwards a little to see his face, shutting your lips tight in a good will gesture. So he places a small kiss on them and finally shimmies your panties down your legs.
Then he’s back to spooning you, one hand firmly on your hip to keep you right where he wants you, the other resting next to your head on the pillow. He starts off slow, pushing in and savoring the way your breath goes so shaky in an effort not to make a sound.
“That’s it baby, you take me so well” he whispers against your ear, “Always so tight and warm for me, I missed this so much” he stays like that for a moment, just resting inside of you, buried to the hilt while you squirm around him.
“I thought about your perfect pussy every single night while I was gone. I thought about you while I got myself off so many times, but nothing compares to the real thing” he moans it just a little and the thought of him touching himself in a hotel room somewhere, thinking of you, always does something to you. And he can feel it, the way you involuntarily clench around him as he speaks.
“Huh, do you like that honey?” he teases, and all you can think to do is let out the weakest “uh huh” as you nod, right as his hips finally start to move, still slow and restrained. He knows that you probably don’t have all the time in the world, but he still can’t bring himself to rush it.
“Do you wanna know more? Do you wanna know exactly what I like to think about?” he asks as he works in and out of you, the head of his cock hitting just the right spots on each thrust.
“Please” you gasp, probably a little too loud, but it’s the best you can do given the circumstance.
“I love thinking about you all alone here, in this bed without me. I think about how you must touch yourself on the nights that I’m not here, how those pretty little fingers probably can’t hit those spots deep inside that you love so much. And then I start thinking about that toy you keep in the bottom drawer of your nightstand” he teases as his hips start to pick up a little pace, still not going very fast, but pushing in almost impossibly deeper each time.
“That piece of silicone is about the size of my cock isn’t it honey? Do you like to fuck yourself with it when I’m not here?” he asks just as he lets out a hard pant right against your ear, his grip on your hips tightening with each thrust.
“I— ah— yes!” you moan, and that one was definitely too loud because Spencer’s other hand moves up to clamp shut over your mouth.
“Don’t want us getting in trouble now do we sweetheart?” he whispers right against you ear, planting a kiss right beneath it. And you breathe a slight sigh a relief that you don’t really have to think about keeping quiet anymore now that Spencer’s hand will be doing the hard work. So you waste no time getting started again, grinding your ass down against his cock so that he groans in surprise.
“Eager, are we?” he teases, his hand on your hip drifting down between your legs, his fingers toying with your clit once again. And he has you moaning into his palm.
“I guess I’m gonna have to keep my hand here, because you can’t seem to behave”
Keeping one hand cupped over your mouth and the other between your legs he starts to rock again, his hips slamming up against yours. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, though stifled by the blanket, were probably still enough to wake someone up in the quiet house.
“I never got to finish talking earlier” he moans softly, “I love to think about how you and I fit together so well. I picture how fucking perfect you look when you ride me, love seeing my cock disappear up inside you, the way your eyes close, the way your tits bounce for me. I think about eating you out, the way you get so fucking wet, how perfect you taste, the way you pull my hair and try to squirm away from me when you’re close. How great it feels to just pin your hips down and make you take it, overstimulate you till you’re a fucking mess”
The words all swirl around your head as he pushes in and out of you, his fingers still teasing at your clit as you grow closer and closer. And you’re pushing your hips backwards to meet him on each thrust, desperately seeking your release as he continues to whisper filthy words right into your ear.
“Fuck— Spence!” you moan, and it just gets caught by his palm, but he can feel the vibrations, so he lets go for just a second.
“You gonna cum for me honey?” he asks, not letting up for a second, and you just nod furiously as you feel yourself coming undone.
“P—please—uh” you breathe, “I’m— gonna” just as you’re about to let out a whine, Spencers fingers find their way into your waiting mouth and your lips involuntarily close around them, stifling the string of pornographic noises that were about to escape.
Even as your hips kant away from him he continues to thrust into you, his fingers still working against your over sensitive clit until you’re squirming in his grip and moaning around his fingers. And then with a final few thrusts he’s cumming himself, spilling deep inside of you with a guttural moan against the side of your neck.
It takes a few moments for your breaths to steady out and your heart rates to come down. And when you move you can feel the sweat that coats the both of you. You try to roll out of bed but you’re yanked back by Spencer’s arm around your waist.
“Hey, I gotta get up to pee” you whine,
“Without giving me a kiss?” he says, sporting a cartoonish pout. But his lips look so pink and irresistible anyway that it’s hardly a fair fight. So you lean in and give him a soft, lingering kiss. And he removes his arm from your waist in exchange.
You grab some underwear and pajamas from the floor before you head into the bathroom, taking a bit of time to clean yourself up before your Saturday really starts. You’re gone for all of 2 minutes and when you return to the bedroom Spencer’s not alone.
He seems to have had just enough time to throw on some pajamas himself before your daughter broke in. So you take a second to linger in the doorway, watching the way he has her in fits of giggles already as she sits in his lap.
“Good morning sleepyhead!” you wave at her from the doorway, “We were waiting for our wake-up call this morning”
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Thank you so much for reading! x 
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