#spencer reid x gn!self insert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months

Text

Unexpected Visitor

Pairing: Spencer Reid x G!n Reader

WC: 788

A/N: A lil Spencer Xmas Blurb while I figure my shit out. Also! I'm imagining older seasons Spencer for this one.

"Hi! I'm, uh, so sorry to bug you but, um, do you know where Spe--Doctor Reid's desk is? Or, really, where D-Doctor Reid is?" .

Derek Morgan had to get his shit together because his jaw almost dropped when you walked in. What was some hot piece of ass doing, dressed like that, looking for Boy Genius.

He jumped up from his chair and strolled over to where you had stopped Garcia, who was just as flabbergasted as he was. "Reid is currently in a meeting sweetheart--may I ask what you, uh, want with him?"

You raised your eyebrows at the 'sweetheart', but smiled anyways. "He was supposed to be home about an hour ago and he wasn't answering his phone, so instead of panicking, because I know what you do for work, I wanted to come in and check before I lost my shit."

"Home?" Garcia squeaked out, still baffafled by how gorgeous you looked. It was like you were sent straight from heaven, a literal vision.

You nodded and tilted your head, slightly confused. "Y-Yeah...I'm sorry why is that---"

"We just didn't know Reid was living with anyone, let alone seeing someone."

"Ah." You nodded. "He's private like that, isn't he." Your smile warmed the two of them, and you shifted the coat from one arm to the other.

"y/n?"

You turned your head towards the back of the bullpen, and Spencer was walking out of Hatch's office. "What are you doing here?"

"Being introduced to your friends and coworkers since you haven't."

Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and walked over to you both, placing his hand on the small of your back. You felt how tense he was.

"I'm here because our reservation is in twenty minutes and you said you'd be home over an hour ago." You looked at Spencer, whose eyes went a little wide.

"Shit. I-I didn't realize what time it was---"

"I have your suit in the car, and this is why I made the reservation for eight pm, instead of Seven."

"And this is why I love you." Spencer kissed your head and rushed over to his desk, scrambling to grab all of his papers and his bag and his coat and his scarf and his--

"Hi Y/n." Spencer looked up at the mention of your name, pausing in his frantic nature.

"Hi Aaron." You gave him a quick hug, but a bright smile. "How are you?"

"Well." He laughed a little. "I'd be better if we didn't have to work the day before Christmas Eve since I still need to wrap all of Jack's presents still."

"Oh how is Jack!"

"He's doing well. finally starting to enjoy reading, no thanks to you."

You laughed at his joke, all the while Derek and Garcia just shared an incredulous look. How the hell did you know Hotch? Jack?!? Why does Jack's reading habits connect to you--

"Ready sweetheart?" Spencer appeared at your side and you nodded. "It was lovely to see you Aaron. I'll stop by some time tomorrow to drop off Jack's gifts as well as yours. I got it when Spence I and went to Paris last month. I think you'll enjoy it!"

"That's why you weren't here for two weeks?" Penelope's jaw was on the floor. "I didn't take you to be a Parisian man Doctor Reid."

"W-Well, um--"

"It was for my birthday. My choice. I love art and museums so it made sense. Well, it was lovely to meet you all but we have a reservation to get to." You gave them all a quick smile before taking Spencer's hand and walking towards the elevator, your shoes clicking on the floor with every step you took.

"How long have the two of them been together?" Morgan turned to Hotch after you both had gotten in the elevator.

"I think today is their two year anniversary."

"TWO YEARS." Garcia clutched her hypothetical pearls. "How have I not known? How have WE not known?"

"He's private, and...well. You know Y/n."

"No we clearly do not know Hotch."

Hotch gave them a little smirk and a shrug. "Merry Christmas guys. I'll see you on the twenty-seventh."

As Hotch walked away, Garcia and Morgan just stared at one another. "So we're..."

"Going to spend then next ten minutes in my office finding everything out about this mystery person Spencer has been apparently dating for two years?"

"You read my mind mama. A little Christmas snooping never hurt anyone..."

5K notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 3 months

Text

Pretty when you sleep

As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.

warnings: (MINORS DNI!) fem reader, consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, very minimum plot yet very heavy smut. words: around 2k

a/n: In another episode of me getting inspired by a clip that I turned into a gif and wrote something out of it🥴 if you want to read my other attempts at writing a blurb based on gifs, find the hashtag #gifwriting on my page. Also, I can't believe this is my first fic of him as a husband.

YOU WERE TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. You just looked so goddamn tempting while laying on your stomach like that. It didn’t help when the strap of your nightgown fell from your shoulder, uncovering the swell of your breast.

You were so breathtakingly beautiful. So soft. So irresistible.

Spencer always made sure he had your consent every time he touched you. He grew to understand what you liked and didn't like when it came to sex, and sure, maybe thinking of brushing his fingers along your skin while you were unconscious wasn't the best idea. But he couldn't help it. You were just too inviting to resist, so he placed a hand on your hip.

You stirred at the sudden contact he initiated and unconsciously readjust into a more comfortable position, your toes curling before relaxing once more. When you finally stopped squirming around, he reached out again, letting his rough fingers travel up your exposed leg. He started at your knee before going further up between the apex of your plush thighs, where that sweet little cunt of yours was waiting for him.

You were still asleep, even as he started to carefully stroke you, dragging a single knuckle up and down against your thin panties and suppressed a groan as he felt the heat radiating from underneath the material. Your breathing pattern began to change as he continued with his teasing. By the time he circled your clit and added the slightest amount of pressure on it, you started to pant and push your ass higher into the air in response.

He smiled. You wanted this.

Of course, you did. The way your body reacted to his touch spoke for itself. You were already getting so wet that your panties were turning damp and sticky with arousal. He continued to massage your clit through the thin cotton, and he watched in awe as your breath hitched in your throat, almost as though you could feel his actions even when you were unconscious.

Spencer kept his eyes trained on your body as he moved to dip your panties down your legs, carefully lifting your body up just enough to slide them down your curves, allowing them to sit around one of your ankles. Then he carefully slipped off his own clothes, trying to keep as quiet as possible, before his palms splayed against your body to move you onto your back.

“So pretty," he mumbled under his breath as he took note of your loose nightgown and the way it had risen up, exposing more of your skin to his prying eyes. He moved over the mattress slowly, making sure you were still fast asleep, and slipped between your now parted legs.

God, how had he become so lucky? Having you reciprocate his feelings was already a surprise when he confessed, but it surpassed his expectations when you agreed to be his girlfriend. Ten months of pure bliss was what he felt throughout your relationship, and when he noticed some of your clutter in his apartment, he wanted to see it every time he came home.

And now, miraculously, you were his wife. The word carried a weight of joy and wonder that he couldn't quite fathom. Every morning waking up to your shared life, and every night falling asleep next to you, felt like a dream too good to be true.

Granted, you've shared intimate nights so much that he should've gotten used to your body by now. Yet, every touch felt as electrifying and exhilarating as the first time and he found himself still captivated by the warmth of your presence. Even now as he fisted his cock, giving himself a teasing tug as he ran his thumb against the tip, his eyes raking your exposed body.

The way your legs parted for him, showing off your wetness and how already swollen you were even when he was barely touching you. His gaze swept over your exposed breast that slipped out of your nightgown and he brushed a thumb against one of your stiff peaks, feeling the way you trembled beneath him.

The way you shuddered made him jerk his hips against yours erratically, pushing his cock against your mound. Your body reacted to his touch, even in slumber, as your hips arched off the bed. His breath hitched when he rutted his hips forward. The sight of his cock against your abdomen showed him just how deep he would be inside you.

He then eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen tip through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way your pussy spread for him, as though inviting him inside. Your arousal coated his swollen head as he focused his attention on your clit, pressing down on it with his cock as he listened to the increased pace of your breathing.

He moved his cock back up as he let the underside split your folds open, resting his girth between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. You were so fucking pretty it was unreal.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, holding onto the base of his cock as he started to drag the tip through your wetness again, grunting softly as it caught against your tight entrance. “Look at you swallowing me.”

Spencer exercised restraint as he gave soft, subtle thrusts into your aching cunt. His gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart as he continued pushing himself forward, feeling your body begin to resist his entrance as he tried to change the angle.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he whispered. His chest rumbled with a groan as he felt you clenching around his thickness, causing his eyes to snap up to your face in surprise, thinking that he’d wake you up. But you were still very much asleep. "I can't resist you."

He let out a sigh as he managed to thrust his hips further. He paused for a second to cherish the feeling of his cock being completely buried deep inside you, running his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel himself inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he throbbed at the sensation.

He held your hips and slowly dragged his thick cock from your cunt, leaving the tip to keep you stretched out before plunging back inside. The restraint he once had now long gone with the way your body hungrily sucked him. His pace increased as he leaned forward, hovering his body over yours with his hands splayed on either side of your head. He sucked in a breath at the way your body adjusted to him, clenching around his cock as he kept rutting his hips.

And then you suddenly stirred. You moved slightly, your chin tilting upward, and your lips parting to release a breath. Your eyes slowly flutter open from your slumber as you feel the warmth of his body, the subtle shift of his weight, and the aching sensation between your thighs.

"What..." Your voice cracked as you turned to see him, only to let out a low groan at him thrusting a bit harder against you.

"Shh, it's just me," he whispered. The haze of your sleep lifted, and your gaze met him at the same time he leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours.

He captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip as your hands pressed to his chest, feeling his flushed, hot body against your own. You let him devour you while his hips increased in speed, rolling against yours as whimpers began to spill from your lips. Your thighs instinctively tightened around him, curses spilling beneath a heavy breath as the bliss filled your body.

"Spence..." you whimpered. You were breathless, eyes screwed shut, legs now parting even further to give him better access. Throughout the time you were in a relationship with him, you never imagined being woken up like this, but you weren't complaining. Not when you could feel his cock stretching you so deliciously.

Spencer was often embarrassed when it came to dirty talk, but once he realized how much you relished those whispered, filthy words, it became a personal mission to keep you thoroughly satisfied. Knowing how much you loved hearing those filthy words became a secret thrill for him, which was why when he leaned closer to whisper in your ear, you became a whining mess.

“You're always so tight,” he began, his voice deep and raspy, right in your ear before he nipped at the lobe, sending a gasp spilling for your lips as you reached for him in an overwhelming burst of arousal. “Look at you taking me so well. It's like your pussy is made for me.”

A rush of burning heat filled your body, his words affecting you with heat spreading from between your thighs to reach even your toes and fingertips. He buried himself between your neck while thrusting inside of you with rising desperation, pushing himself further, his body rolling against yours.

“Faster,” you begged him in a breathless whimper, all before your teeth sank into your lip, brow wrinkling, moans filling in your chest. It only took him a second to comply. The thrusts of his hips created a loud smack as drove his cock deeper inside of you. You couldn’t help but cry out, overwhelmed by the pleasure, squeezing yourself so tight around him that he let out a grunt.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned in your ear, having the proximately to tell you the dirty, nasty things on his mind. His lips brushed over your neck as he increased his pace. “I love fucking you like this.”

“Please… don’t stop—” You gulped with a brief pause. “Feels so... so good.”

He shook his head against your shoulder.

"I'm not stopping," he continued to whisper in his gruff voice, earning goosebumps on your quivering body. “I love feeling you this close.” He pressed an open kiss on your skin. "I love making you desperate."

“Fuck,” you cried out, body weakening with his every word. The sounds of him pumping into your slick, wet arousal became louder the quicker he thrust into you. “I-I’m getting c-close."

You continued to warble out broken sentences, trying to form any coherent thoughts but all you felt was the searing pleasure that flowed through you. The lewd sounds continued to fill the room as your essence dribbled down your ass and onto the bed, staining the sheets. "I-I'm gonna—"

“Come for me,” he encouraged, lips pressing to your skin between words. “Go on, come on my cock.” The choice words sent a shiver down your spine as the heat bubbled between your thighs.

“I'm coming,” you cried out, voice straining and struggling to speak from him leaving you so breathless. Your body tensed as the pleasure swelled through your body and his final confession toppled you right over the edge.

“I love this so much,” he groaned between you gasping as the first wave of pleasure surged through you, “I love you.”

You finally let go, toes curling in ecstasy as you arched your back, legs growing further apart. Your head spins from the warmth filling every inch of you as he fucked you through your orgasm. You gasped his name, overwhelmed with the bliss he offered, the emotions that drove you at his words. You wanted to say them back, but you couldn't even think properly as the wave of pleasure washed over you.

He continued to thrust, eyes closed, brow creased, lips parted, huffing and groaning and holding you tighter until he reached his own peak. The moment a heavy exhale left his lips, his hips slowed and his cock twitched, signaling the pleasure filling him as he released inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before he eased himself and collapsed on the bed, bringing you along with him as you settled on top of his body.

The two of you lingered in the aftermath of passion for a few seconds too long—breathless, hot, sweaty, and tired. When you lifted your head to look at him, you noticed the softness in his eyes, your heart fluttering at the sight.

"Well, good morning to you, Dr. Reid," you teased.

He laughed, his hands absentmindedly stroking your back. There was a warmth in his gaze, filled with affection as you continued to stare at him. "Good morning, Mrs. Reid."

You couldn't help but smile at the endearment as you placed your head on his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you let his warmth envelop you, singking further into the arms of your husband.

a/n: If you have a specific clip you want me to be inspired by, come and drop me a message. But please be specific so I would know which scene you're talking about.

2K notes · View notes

daydreamingqueen1 · 6 months

Text

Sweets thief

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Warnings/Content: none. pure fluff, a wee bit of bullying to spence (totally harmless and friendly though), crushes, unhealthy amount of candy ingestion lol, no y/n, gn!reader too

Summary: You've been stealing sweets from your resident genius.

Word count: 1.2k

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆

It wasn't unusual for the BAU members to carry snacks with them.

The job was hard, stressful and, most importantly, it had unpredictable hours. So finding time to eat a proper meal wasn't always a viable option.

Nevertheless, eating is a basic human need and even if it's not completely healthy, the agents often found themselves battling their hunger with quick snacks.

As a relatively new member of the BAU, buying said vital snacks wasn't yet ingrained in your mind, resulting in you continually forgetting to buy something to munch on during cases.

Stealing was always an option though.

After several months with your coworkers, you are proud to say that you have managed to eat at the expense of all of their pockets, for experts in human behavior, they don't hide their treats so well.

However, after several months, you have come to know their go-to snacks and, subsequently, you have become picky.

Morgan eats some kind of high-protein bars with an awfully bright neon wrapper.

Emily loves those salt and vinegar chips every station has on their vending machines.

JJ, ever the healthy mom of the group, always has a few packages of oatmeal raisin cookies on hand.

Rossi carries eucalyptus and mint gummies like the old man he is.

And Hotch buys the most bland granola bars known to mankind.

With all of that said, the conclusion was obvious.

Spencer has the best snacks.

It is not only that he always has sweets but that he's the only one that manages for variety instead of a fixed thing. A bit ironic considering he is the most prone to sticking to a rigid routine. Well, you aren't complaining though, especially not this month.

You realized quickly that Halloween was a big thing for the resident genius, seeming to make the grown man regress to the mentality of an overly eager seven-year-old. It's lucky for you because that means that he chooses to try a new candy every single day of October.

It also means that you had begun stealing exclusively from him and, being surrounded by profilers, it wasn't long until you were discovered as the culprit.

A shadow had eclipsed your desk suddenly, making you look up to a squinting Dr. Reid. “Did you take my last Peanut Butter Cup?”

You shook your head, “No...”

Derek snorted on the desk nearby, “You've still got chocolate on your face, kid,”

Cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand, you smiled up at Spencer sweetly.

His converse sounded hard against the floor as he stumped away.

Apparently, you weren't that discreet. He ended up catching you many more times after that.

"Hey!" Spencer swatted your hand when you grabbed yet another handful of his M&Ms.

You shrugged, feigning innocence, “Hey to you too Reid, but we've been in the same room for a while.”

He huffed, inching the box slightly out of your reach.

Many more times.

Your hand was literally inside the familiar size bag of Starburst candy when Spencer came back from the bathroom.

“Oh come on!” he groaned, taking the bag out of your grasp, “Buy your own.”

You went back to the local police station office, giggling to yourself like a child with your hands full of candy.

At this point hunger had become a secondary motive to your stealing. The number one reason being how adorable Spencer's reactions were when he caught you.

In all honesty, you harbored a bit of a crush on the man. You didn't have the courage to tell him upfront, making your silly brain manifest your feelings like a preschooler pulling on the pigtails of their crush. Oh, but teasing him was so fun, and it got you free candy so it was even better.

Then, yesterday, there was an incident.

The team was on the jet, another kidnapped girl had been safely returned to her parents, fairly quickly this time too. Spirits were high at wrapping up a case with such a positive outcome, making most of the agents mingle and play games on the usually quiet ride home.

You were perched on one of the individual seats, scrolling away in your phone and absentmindedly eating some candy (you had bought your own for once).

You jolted a bit when a hand dived into your candy bag. When you looked up, you found a smirking Spencer standing right in front of you, looking fairly smug and popping a piece into his mouth. He thought he was finally getting back at you for eating all of his sweets.

His joy lasted for about three seconds before he realized his mistake.

See, to the untrained eye, he had just eaten a couple of innocent looking bear gummies. Except, these were not regular gummies, they were your favorite kind, the most sour kind.

Spencer's face scrunched up with disgust, the sour effect of the gummy doubled at taking him by surprise, the acidic taste completely taking over his taste buds.

You couldn't help it, you bent over your belly with laughter, inadvertently drawing attention to Spencer's predicament.

The whole team snickered as they watched him rush back and forth on the narrow hall of the jet until he got hold of a tissue to spit the offending candy.

“What the hell is that?” he turned around to confront you.

You gave him an apologetic smile, “Sour candy?”

More laughs filled the space and Spencer had sat down on the furthest chair from yours, pouting with his arms crossed over his chest.

Back to today, you feel actually kind of guilty about what happened. You have been munching on all of Spencer's treats for weeks and the one time he does it to you, the whole team ends up making fun of him. A bit of teasing was fine but you don't want the man to actually feel bad.

So when you see him stand up from his desk and walk into the kitchen, you quickly jump out of your chair and grab something from your bag, trailing right behind him through the bullpen.

He's making himself an exaggeratedly sweet cup of coffee when you corner him.

“Spencer,” you call, making him turn around. Your hands are inconspicuously behind your back, “Trick or treat?”

His eyebrows furrow suspiciously, “Neither if you're going to give me one of those monstrosities you like.”

You huff out a laugh, “No, no, I promise it's not that. Come on, trick or treat? ”

After measuring up how much he trusts your statement, he relents, “Treat.”

“Ta-dah!” you sing, revealing a single Hershey’s Kiss in your palm.

Spencer's eyes light up.

“I know it doesn't make up for everything I ate but it's an offer of peace.”

He gives you a small smile, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

As his hand extends to grab the chocolate, your brain has an impulsive thought.

You lean forward and peck his lips.

It lasts barely a second but it's enough to make your heart beat wildly against your chest.

Spencer stares at you frozen in place, a crimson color spreading all over his face.

“A kiss for a kiss,” you mumble dumbly, like saying that makes it better somehow.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ You think to yourself, your feet are prepared to flee the scene when he unexpectedly grabs your wrist.

“I– I...” he stammers, his cheeks turning impossibly redder, “I wouldn't mind if you stole more of those.”

A shy smile spreads on your face. Perhaps you won't start buying your own snacks soon.

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆

it's a bit silly but I was feeling halloween-y and craving sour candy

leave me a prompt or idea you'd like me to write!

♡, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

My masterlist

2K notes · View notes

mandarinmoons · 13 days

Text

It’s well past midnight and the only sound that can be heard in the house is the sound of the clock ticking. Normally it would be accompanied by the sound of your boyfriend Spencer’s light breathing and occasional mumbling in his sleep, but sadly he was not home as he was away on a case.

You had just snuggled into your covers only minutes ago and as soon as you closed your eyes to get some snooze you heard the front door open and close in a very gentle manner. Hearing that only made you smile because you knew who would be coming here at this time of night.

You stayed still in bed and kept on listening as you heard someone slip off their shoes and shuffle through the hallways until the bedroom door creaked open and a moment later the bed dipped, which was followed by ruffling of bedsheet and arms being wrapped around you.

“Hey,” you turned your head and were met with Spencer’s surprised face, he expected you to be fast asleep, but here you were, awake as ever.

��Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I just turned in about 10 minutes ago, I wasn’t tired but I knew I couldn’t stay up for much longer without it turning into a problem for you.”

Spencer chuckled and brushed the hair out of your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while mumbling an “I missed you,” into your skin.

“I missed you too, so much.”

Spencer hummed and leaned down as he pecked your lips, which turned into another kiss and another one, and deeper one, after that.

“Spence, please, I have work in the morning.”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t tired?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Then how about I kiss you for a bit so I can help tire you out a bit,” Spencer took your face into his hands gently as he continued his attack of kisses which only made you laugh.

Time spent apart from one another was both grueling for both of you, especially for Spencer because of the horrors of his job and when he needed to go away for a case that was halfway across the country, he just didn’t sleep well without your comforting presence.

Now that he is finally home with you, who were you to deny him of spending a little bit more one on one time? After all it was benefitting for the both of you as Spencer had you caress his head in a loving manner while he was dozing off and your worries were put to rest because you knew that your lover was right next to you and safe from any harm.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

476 notes · View notes

spentfromspence · 2 months

Text

Spencer: I dont need to sleep yet, Im not tired.

Y/N: But i’ll be so lonely, who will I cuddle with? Pleaseeee come to bed with me?

Spencer: …are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?

Y/N: …Is it working…?

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #yn x spencer reid #yn #sleep deprived spencer reid #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #incorect criminal minds #criminal minds incorrect quotes #criminal minds fandom #x gn reader

809 notes · View notes

academiareid · 9 months

Text

Spencer Reid Boyfriend Headcanons

Lots of fluff basically (gn!reader)

he's such a romantic, no one would believe it but he secretly reads a lot of romance books and day dreams about everything he'd do for the love of his life

some people think he's not good with his words but I think he would be, words of affirmation would be one of his love languages especially when he's head over heels for someone

when he's dating you he'd leave little love notes everywhere for you to find, especially when he's away on cases so you're reminded of how much he loves you

every now and again you'll find a poem he wrote just for you

he keeps a picture of you in his wallet and a polaroid of you in his go bag

every time he returns from a case he'll always bring you your favourite treat to surprise you

any chance he gets to talk to someone about you he will and he'll show off the picture he has of you in his wallet

he doesn't know how to set wallpapers on his phone so he asked Garcia if she could help him set pictures of you and him as his wallpaper and home screen

he'll read poetry books and highlight all the poems/lines that make him think of you, he'll sometimes annotate them too and give them to you as a gift to read when he's not home

Part 2

Masterlist

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid boyfriend #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #cm #academiareidwrites

1K notes · View notes

basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 1 day

Note

Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else.

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places.

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize.

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in.

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to.

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods.

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own.

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly, and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things -

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s?

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous?

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions.

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself.

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic.

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side.

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?”

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary.

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know?

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.”

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.”

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?”

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.”

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad.

“I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper.

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew.

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?”

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face.

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?”

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert

365 notes · View notes

spncvr · 2 months

Text

worries | s. reid

summary: you worry for spencer, it's human

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: TENDING WOUNDS TROPE HELLO, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, blood (in a metaphorical way ???) ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE PLS BEAR WITH ME, lowkey kinda sappy, reader kinda cries, like, alot, lmk if i missed anytihg !

a/n: tryying desperately to force myself out of my writers block so here's a WIP i forcedmyself to finish (its 1 am rn bye). send me requests??for??ideas?? i beg.

THE SMALL LIGHT BULB that dangles from the ceiling casts a soft glow on everything it touches. The light, never quite bright enough for your liking (you never got around to changing it) bathes the room in a gentle hue, softening the edges of the couch, carpet and shelves. That akin to the way it bleeds against his skin, with this kind of grace that seems to make scars on his face look kind and soft.

“Hold still,” you chide, trying to clean the wound on his eyebrow; a harsh reminder of the day’s chaos. And when he does you mumble, “You’re such an idiot.”

His response is a small smile that sits against his lips, warm and understanding. His hands gently find their place on your thighs, grounding you as you straddle him “Yeah, I know,” he says.

“You shouldn’t’ve just … lunged at him like that.” It’s a plea wrapped in a scold.

You duck your head down to avoid his careful eyes. You think, if he can’t see you, he can’t properly read you; a futile attempt, really. But still, you think, if he can’t see the worry within your eyes he’d just let it go; that he wouldn’t know that you couldn’t help but think, what if, the unsub had gotten the upper hand, and what if it was much worse than just a measly cut on his eyebrow. These thoughts, the feelings, seem to constantly plague your mind in your darkest moments; ones that would make you feel like your heart is pouring out your chest, like rose thorns poking at your ribcage, that’ll bleed you dry with worry.

“What’s wrong?”His voice is soft, laced with concern, and it breaks through your defenses. The fingers that were on your thigh are now under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him, a silent entreaty for your honesty. His gaze is now on yours, stagnant and unwavering—and your lips start to quiver, and tears threaten to spill. Quickly, you hide your face into his shoulder.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your words are barely a whisper.

“Of what?”

“I’m terrified for you.” your words are muffled in his shirt “What if—” you say, helpless, “What if it was more than just a cut on your eyebrow Spence, what if I— when—” you can’t finish your sentence. Not when he’s rubbing your back and kissing your head so softly and so kindly it makes the tears from your eyes spill and paint soft patches on his shirt.

“You won’t,” he tells you with a conviction, that he wears so effortlessly like his own skin, “I won’t. I’m not leaving you.”

“You can’t say that,” you protest weakly, “you can’t know that. Look at Stephen he— God, Spence. You of all people know that you can’t possibly know that—”

“Hey, no,” he scolds quietly.

But you're already looking at him, your face off from his shoulder. “Don’t tell me not to worry. Don’t tell me I can’t talk like that. You’re my boyfriend. It’s apart of caring. I should worry for you, so let me worry. It wouldn’t be human not to.”

“I know,” he says, soothingly, then, “I’m sorry.”

You wipe your tears frantically with your arm before continuing to tend his cut. “I wish the FBI had force fields around their agents.” you say, through a small smile, “Wish they could wrap you up with thick blankets.” It’s a childish thought.

His laughter is kind and genuine, it fills the space between the two of you, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you nod with a smile that finds its way through your tears.

“You take such good care of me,” he says, eyes never leaving yours.

Maybe it was his words or the way it had slipped from his tongue; maybe it was how his fingers, rough and calloused, had grazed against your delicate ones. But here, as he sits with a smile on his lips, (a lopsided lazy thing), all scarred and bruised, did you know that you love him. But love was a concept you had cared for and attended to. You loved your mother, your friends. You loved books and their characters. You loved the darkness, the night. You loved your job, and its challenges. You loved music and movies. You loved home, and it's all too familiar feeling against your skin. And suddenly this concept —love— seems too small, too narrow to encompass what you feel for him. There isn’t a word or phrase made —nor did you think there ever would be— to describe just how much you had felt for him.

But in short, you do love him, very much.

349 notes · View notes

astrophileous · 8 months

Text

Thunderstorm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Spencer Reid was never a fan of thunderstorms. On one particular night, he woke up to one.

Warning(s): established relationship, mentions and/or depictions of gun violence/injury, protective spencer, parent-child relationships, I think that's it (?) this one is really just fluff wrapped in more fluff 🥰

Word Count: 2400-ish

Author's Note: HELLO! I'm finally back from the dead (yayyy)!! To celebrate, and as we all wait for me to finish rewriting the remaining chapters of love bugs, I'm posting this fic here for you all to enjoy :) I think it's the fluffiest piece I've ever written (srsly, not even a drop of angst!) so I hope you will enjoy! Let me know what you think okkk, don't forget to LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG if you like this one xx btw I'm pretty sure this can be read as gender neutral reader since I'm positive I didn't use any gender-conforming words, but pls lmk if I'm wrong!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer hated thunderstorms.

He had many memories of them, not particularly good ones. Most of them involved him being on the field during yet another atrocious case, gun and flashlight in hand, trekking after muddy footsteps that belonged to an UnSub he was chasing.

He had been shot, once, during a thunderstorm. The bullet lodged itself against his bulletproof vest before the perpetrator had received a retaliation shot from Derek's gun. The vest had saved his life that night. The nasty bruise decorating his torso for the following week, though, served as a sufficient reminder in Spencer's mind.

Thunderstorms were a natural enemy whenever he was on the field. Unfortunately for him, the rivalry seemed to continue past the doorstep of his home, too.

Back when sleep was a luxury that he had to scour and cherish, thunderstorms would be the antagonist that kept the two even further apart. The sound of heavy rain against windows was a line of needles prickling into his circadian rhythm, erasing any possibilities of sleep if he was even lucky enough to have them in the first place.

On those nights, Spencer would sit against the headboard with a book in his lap, hoping that the passage detailing the fall of Joseon Dynasty in Korean Peninsula--or the rise or Majapahit Empire in the island of Java, whichever had caught his interest more at that specific moment in time--would be enough distraction to take his mind off the disaster wreaking havoc outside of his apartment.

Thanks to years of therapy, Spencer now had found it easier to chase sleep whenever he needed it. Still, its sweet relief stood no chance against the chaos brought by a raging thunderstorm.

This time, too, was no different.

Spencer had been dreaming. A land of reverie where his tongue had tasted honey, where his nose had recognized the hint of mint and juniper berry before the image was rattled by a high-pitched shriek in the sky.

When Spencer opened his eyes, the bedroom was enveloped in a near state of total darkness.

The sharp cry he heard had come from a lightning that struck momentarily before he woke up. Five seconds later, another one struck again, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Spencer's body as he waited for the imminent thunder to shatter the atmosphere.

Spencer shut his eyes in an attempt to get his racing heart back under control. Once he opened them again, the remnants of sleep had washed away from his pupils, allowing him to take in the empty bed, the chill bedroom, and the opened door right across from where he was sitting.

Frowning, Spencer thought back to a few hours prior. How he had promptly retired to the bedroom after coming home from work. He remembered clearly--courtesy of his eidetic memory--having slammed the door shut before he got ready for bed.

A creak in the floorboards outside his bedroom door compelled Spencer to reach into the bedside drawer, fingers inching nearer to where the secret holster of his gun was located.

Before his hand could wrap around the weapon, the bedroom door was pushed ajar, revealing a familiar figure standing in the doorway, outline cast by a hazy kind of luminance.

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief. "I thought you were an intruder."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement. A playful smile sweetened by the gentle glow radiating off the flickering candle in your hand.

"It's just me," you assured him, finally stepping into the threshold and placing the candle on top of the dresser.

"I can see that." He watched you approaching, gaze never straying even when you picked up the comforter a tiny bit to slip back into bed. "Where did you go?"

"Went down to check the breaker. Power's out completely, by the way. Looks like the storm took out the whole block."

He made a disapproving face at your response. "You were in the basement? Alone?"

Your forehead furrowed at the tone of Spencer's voice. It wasn't until you glimpsed the telltale sign of worry in his eyes that your shoulders eventually deflated. "I'm okay, Spencer."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because," you began, an amused smile threatening to split your face into two, "it's a three flights of stairs walk from our bedroom, darling. I think I can manage it just fine."

"But--"

"Besides," you cut him off, silencing him with a gentle palm pressing on his cheek. Spencer instantly melted at the contact. "I know how you get during nights like this. I wanted to let you have as much sleep as you could before the storm eventually wakes you up."

His hand circled around your wrist, then, bringing it upwards so that he could leave tiny kisses on your palm before he entwined his fingers with yours. "You still should've woken me up."

"Spence--"

"I know, I know. You could've done it yourself, I don't doubt it. I just--" he paused, swallowing a lump before continuing, "--I could've just waited here. In the bedroom. But in case anything happened, I would've been there for you."

The admission was quiet within the four walls of your bedroom. You knew that Spencer's plea had nothing to do with a toxic need to be controlling. Instead, it had stemmed from the vulnerability within. A naked truth that nestled in the deepest corners of Spencer Reid's soul.

The years that you had spent together allowed you to understand Spencer at a level nobody else could. They allowed you to understand that this silly request was nothing more than a fruit of his vigilant bones, forged consistently throughout his years in law enforcement. Spencer Reid, underneath his soft eyes and tender touches, had witnessed all of the gruesome layers of the world, lost far more things than anyone ever should.

It was only logical, now that Spencer had you in his life--a miraculous reprieve to his otherwise ghastly world--he would spend every waking moment to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

Always.

With this knowledge in mind, you couldn't, in good conscience, bring yourself to deny Spencer's plea, no matter how foolish it might seem.

What you did, instead, was shifting yourself closer to his body, seeking permission with your eyes before you leaned forward for a quick kiss.

"I'm sorry, darling," you offered sincerely. "I'll keep that in mind for next time, yeah? How does that sound?"

The relief was blinding as it washed over Spencer's whole being. "Thank you," he muttered before kissing your knuckles. "And I'm sorry, too, for being like this."

You shook your head firmly. Not because you didn't accept his apology, but because you didn't need one. Spencer didn't have anything to apologize for.

When you told him as much, Spencer's only reply was to press his lips to yours.

You were rendered pliant underneath his ministrations, your body molding into his as if you were two fabrics cut from the same cloth. Spencer poured all of his emotions into the kiss. Wishing--begging--that you could taste just how consuming the love he harbored for you was. The same way he could taste your heart beneath the hint of honey on your lips.

Once breathing became a chore, Spencer took the heavy decision to pull away, settling for resting his forehead on top of yours instead.

"Do you wanna go back to sleep?" you whispered.

Spencer wanted to nod, feeling a huge load pressing on every inch of muscle in his body. But before he could take you up on the offer, a distant sound between the roaring of thunders caught his attention, stopping his words right in their tracks.

"Did you hear that?" Spencer asked.

"Hear what?" You frowned. "The thunder?"

"No." He rushed to get up from the bed, gaze apologetic as he looked at you from the doorway. "Stay here? I'll be back soon."

Soft footsteps trudged along the landing of your two story house, leading Spencer towards another door located right by the stairs. He knocked slowly on the wooden door, twice, before pushing it open with a gentle nudge of his hip.

The room he entered was smaller than the room he shared with you. During the days, the windows on the far end of the wall would offer a mesmerizing view of the creek that ran along the backside of the neighborhood. During nights like this, however, they merely provided another harsh peek at the tantrum that mother nature was throwing against the world.

Although the room was swallowed in darkness, Spencer could still make out the silhouettes inside. From the haphazardly scattered toys on the floor, the colorful drawings taped on the walls, even to the lavender-colored furniture that seemed to fill every available corner in the entire space.

Amongst them all, the one silhouette that managed to pull at Spencer's heartstrings was the one curled up on the center of the bed. A usually joyous sunshine, reduced to a whimpering ball under a cotton unicorn-themed blanket.

"Princess."

Spencer tugged the blanket down, revealing misty eyes and pouting lips on a face he held dearly. A sob managed to wreck itself out of the little girl's chest, plummeting Spencer's heart further down the abyss of no end.

"Oh, sweetheart."

He gathered the 4-year-old in his arms, feeling her immediately hugging his neck. Her body was still shivering with tiny whimpers and sobs, all of which Spencer tried to subside gently by constant strokes down her back.

"It's okay. You're okay," he shushed quietly, rocking his body to a phantom tune while she clung to his chest. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?"

The girl sniffled aloud before lifting her head, her tiny hands rubbing rigorously on the tear stains around her eyes.

"The-the thunders," she murmured. "It was so loud. I woke up and everything was d-dark. Daddy, I'm scared!"

She threw her arms around his neck again, crying softly into the collar of his sleeping shirt. Spencer tightened his embrace around his daughter, heart breaking into pieces with every tear shed from her innocent eyes.

"Sshh, it's alright, princess. Everything's alright. Daddy's here now," Spencer cooed. "Do you wanna sleep with us tonight? Hm?"

His daughter started to nod frantically. "Don't forget Mr. Elphie, Daddy."

Chuckling, Spencer quickly grabbed the elephant stuffed animal lying next to her pillow. "Of course not. Mr. Elphie is coming with us, isn't he?"

Spencer began to retreat back in the direction of your bedroom, all the while conversing with his little girl to keep her mind off the storm that was still raging wildly outside.

You were checking something on your phone by the time Spencer finally returned. Immediately, you tossed the device aside once you saw him, eyes widening in concern when you saw your daughter's limbs entangled around Spencer's form.

"What happened?" you asked.

Spencer headed for the bed, slowly putting down the little girl who instantly cuddled your side after he had tucked her under the duvet.

"The thunders are scary," your daughter mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

Your eyes flicked towards Spencer, who gave a single nod of confirmation before settling back on his side of the bed.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry." You brushed back the hair from her face, taking in the sight of your favorite pair of eyes that seemed to have lost their usual sparkles in the wake of her tears. "What do you wanna do, hun? Should I tell you a story? Play a little music?"

"I wanna sleep here with you and Daddy," she said in a shaky voice. "Is that okay?"

Kissing the crown of her head, you answered, "Of course it's okay, sunshine. Come here."

Your daughter fell back into your awaiting arms. Her small frame fitting so easily into the front side of your body. You watched as her tiny fingers clutched Mr. Elphie tighter, breath evening out while her face burrowed even deeper into your chest.

It felt as if hours had passed before you could find the will to rip your gaze away. In all honesty, you could probably have spent an entire eternity staring at the little miracle in your arms had the universe given you the chance. When you lifted your head, your eyes automatically locked with Spencer's, who looked as if he, too, had been entranced by the sight in front of him.

"She's incredible," Spencer confessed into the night, voice fragile with the weight of awe it seemed to carry. "I can't believe she's ours."

You extended your hand towards him, smiling brightly once Spencer secured it in his own.

"Seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," you mused, eyes glinting mischievously from the knowledge that your daughter--just like her beloved Daddy--also had a fear of thunderstorms. "Like father like daughter, huh?"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared of thunderstorms. I'm just... not fond of them"

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up." He bit your knuckles playfully, seemingly pleased with himself when he managed to elicit a laugh out of your chest. "Go get some sleep. You have an early day tomorrow."

"Speak for yourself, Mister." You settled your head back on the pillow, Spencer mirroring your position without breaking his hold around your hand. "Where are you going again?"

"Florida. Miami."

"Damn," you muttered, temporarily panicking about your terrible choice of words before calming back down once you saw your daughter sleeping soundly. "I bet it's nice there this time of year."

"It's Miami. The weather barely changes there all year-round."

"Exactly my point."

"Besides," Spencer added, squeezing your hand once, "it's not a vacation. It doesn't matter where I'm going, I'll only be seeing dead bodies all day long."

"Okay. I really don't need to start seeing corpses in my head right before going to sleep, so thanks for that."

"You started it."

"I most certainly did not." You scoffed. "I'm not liking this conversation. Now, can we please go to sleep?"

Spencer had a retort ready on the tip of his tongue. But once he saw how peaceful you looked with your eyes closed, entangled as one with your daughter, he decided against it.

At last, he opted to shuffle closer on the bed until he could wrap his arm around the two of you, letting the scent of mint from your shampoo and juniper berry from your daughter's body wash to wrap around his whole being.

Spencer was still not a fan of thunderstorms.

But on nights like this, he had to begrudgingly admit that maybe, maybe, they weren't really that bad after all.

679 notes · View notes

queerpumpkinnn · 9 months

Note

is this how u request? anyways! i was wondering if u could do like a spencer reid w like a girl best friend, but like he has feelings for her

she does all these little things for him like bring him coffee and food and let him ramble and stuff

i was thinking of writing it myself but id love to see someone else’s take <3

This is typically how people send in requests (either via inbox or comments) so you're good! So sorry this took so long to write, my inspiration was down for a long time. I had so much fun writing this, thank you for sending it in!

Loverboy

1.6k words

Summary: Spencer's got a big fat crush on his best friend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bestfriend!reader

Warnings: Morgan makes a few innuendos, food/drink, feelings ew gross, sweet lovesick Spencer <3 as always, let me know if I missed something!

While reading, I recommend you listen to valentine's day - a Spotify playlist by me!

Everyone in the office that morning knew that it was far too early to be there. Spencer, more than most, relied heavily on the power of caffeine to get his day going. It was not uncommon for folks to be carrying around a mug even in the late hours of the night.

And as always you, like a gift from God, would always saunter through the meeting room door with two steaming cups of coffee and a weary smile.

Spencer adored you. Although everyone on the team had a place in his heart, you were always the one closest to him. You were the one who had taken the time to get to know him, who listened to anything he had to say and got to know him as more than a coworker, an agent, a "resident genius" like he was some kind of appliance.

It was rocky at first, no doubt. Spencer was not the most perceptive when it came to reading social cues (or giving them to others), so his stiff and awkward nature took a while to see past. Eventually, you managed to break down the walls of caution around him, and over the span of a few years the two of you became more accustomed to being around each other more than anyone else. Even though you spent practically days together at a time, the two of you found solace in each other's presence, often heading back to someone's apartment and ordering takeout to wind down after the case with a movie.

To Spencer's embarrassment and yours, it had become the group's joke to refer to you two as The Soulmates. The first time Morgan made the joke, Spencer's entire face went a deep shade of red and he couldn't look at anything other than his feet for the rest of the hour. Eventually the two of you became accustomed to the running joke, brushing it off with a sarcastic laugh and roll of the eyes.

To be fair, Morgan wasn't entirely wrong. The two of you were joined at the hip, but you were just friends. It saddened Spencer to think about it sometimes, really. But he was content with having you so close, to be able to work with you and come home with you. To get to bring each other coffee and let you rest your head on his shoulder when you fell asleep was a closeness he granted to few people, and so he was, for the most part, satisfied with having you as you did.

That morning was no different. The sun had just barely risen, and Spencer was stifling a yawn as sugar poured into his cup like water. This morning was odd- a thought had struck him in the car, a comment Prentiss had made saying you and him were like a married couple. Was that true? Spencer knew plenty of married people but he didn't see them in action very often.

Would you even want to marry him? No, Spencer thought. You were just his friend. Sure, you did all sorts of favors for him and hugged him, but that was surely just a mark of close friendship.

"Morning, pretty boy." Morgan came up beside him, bringing a mug down from the shelf.

"Morning." Spencer replied, sipping from his coffee.

"So have you proposed yet?"

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, replying with a "what?!" once he stopped spluttering that might have been a tad bit too incredulous.

"Jesus, Reid, I was kidding." Morgan held his hands up, but he still wore an amused grin.

""We're just friends, Morgan." Spencer said defensively, moving to prepare another cup.

"You're making her morning coffee right now, pretty boy. You know who does that?" Morgan gestured his mug in Spencer's direction. "Married couples."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and coworkers."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, Reid." Morgan gave him a pat on the shoulder, sauntering back over to his desk with his free hand in his pocket.

Spencer heaved a relieved sigh, taking both cups over towards your desk. You beamed at him when the smell hit your nose.

"Well thank you, Spencer." You squeezed his wrist affectionately, and Spencer thought he might die. He turned his head to hide the stupid smile on his face, mumbling a "welcome", but the other direction didn't help him much. Morgan's desk shared a divider wall with yours, so the man in question simply raised his brow, a knowing smirk surely hidden behind his coffee cup.

Spencer rolled his eyes, turning back towards you. Your head was tilted in concern. "You alright, Spencer? You seem a bit jittery."

To strangers, Spencer might always seem jittery, like a nervous cat. But you could tell the difference.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm alright. Too much coffee, maybe."

Spencer nearly slapped himself when he realized his mug was still full. He prayed you didn't notice, tilting the rim so you couldn't see its contents.

"Alright kidlets, let's get this party started." Garcia called from the meeting room door, a stack of envelopes tucked under her arm.

You pushed off from your chair, nudging Spencer's shoulder. "Let's get this party started," you chuckled.

Spencer lightly touched his arm where you'd nudged him, watching you make your way across the office.

"Let's get this party started, Loverboy," Morgan, seemingly coming from nowhere, rubbed his shoulder against Spencer's dramatically, voice risen in pitch.

"Shut up!" Spencer pushed the man off of him, but couldn't help the laugh that came with it.

. . .

Four days later the team was right back where it started, making coffee and wrapping up paperwork- only this time there was a silent agreement that everyone wanted to get home.

Even in these low-energy moments Spencer still stayed by you, sitting with his legs folded on the large table nearest your desk, scribbling away.

His head perked up when he heard your chair wheeling over to him. "So, yours or mine?"

Spencer tried to ignore the way your arms folded over his knee to rest your chin atop them. "Uh- I was actually hoping yours?"

He definitely liked your place better than his. As much as he wanted to make it home, his apartment really was just a place for him to sleep at night and keep all of his stuff. Your apartment reminded him of you- but he wouldn't admit that that's the real reason he preferred your apartment to his.

You hummed. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good." Spencer was actually in a mood for Indian cuisine, but when you suggested Chinese it suddenly sounded like the best idea ever.

Work passed by fast, something that could rarely be said about Spencer's job. He was just excited to be going home, he told himself, even though he was headed to yours after this.

Although Spencer had to admit, your apartment was practically his. You both had a few items belonging to the other that you always forgot to take back. Spencer even had a travel toothbrush that sat in the cup on your sink. He knew where all your dishes were, knew your DVD collection by heart. He never lingered at the doorway like he might do at a new friend's place, he kicked his shoes off and made himself at home, because really, he was.

Tonight was no different. Spencer was sprawled out on your couch, half-empty foam box of chow mein sitting on the coffee table, and you under his arm. When you'd made yourself comfortable next to him, Spencer felt butterflies in his stomach, he thought. It was a marvel to him, hearing a phrase like that so often but not knowing what it really meant until now.

The time was nearing one in the morning, and while Spencer was still engrossed in whatever film you'd picked out this time, you were fast asleep, head heavy on his chest.

Spencer glanced over at you, smiling softly to himself.

"You know, you're not making this any easier for me." Spencer whispered, stroking your arm. "I mean, I'm not complaining, you know, but it's kind of hard to suppress a crush when you're falling asleep on me."

Spencer knew you couldn't hear him, which is why he felt a breath of relief leave him when the words came out. He attempted, with slow and careful movements, to adjust you to sleep on the couch. Spencer thanked whatever god might be out there that you'd purchased a sleep-worthy couch- he knew, he'd tested it personally.

"Good night," Spencer murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline and giving you one last glance from the doorway.

Maybe someday.

. . .

It was mornings like these that tested Spencer's willpower.

It had not even been six hours since he'd left your home that he was being called in on another case. So here he was. Five days later, doing the exact same thing: making two cups of coffee.

But as always, you made it better.

"Spencer!"

He didn't have to turn to know who was calling him, but he did anyways, just to look at you. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I had a pretty nice pillow," you teased, and Spencer's ears turned red. "Hey, are you free Saturday?"

"Yeah, if Hotch doesn't call us in at the crack of dawn." Spencer snorts.

"Great. There's an art exhibit I wanted to see and it wouldn't be as boring if I went alone." You grinned, gratefully taking the mug he offered you.

"Can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday." Spencer agreed.

"It's a date then."

Spencer's eyes went as wide as saucers at your response, mouth falling open a little. You giggled at his reaction.

"C'mon, Hotch is waiting." You turned, not waiting for a reply.

Spencer shook his head as if to clear it, a stupid grin plastered across his face as he trailed behind you.

It's a date.

Spencer Reid Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert

620 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year

Note

jade! I have a request for the hurt/comfort requests! maybe one where spencer (or hotch if you’d prefer) comes home from a stressful case and finds out that reader is sick? and they’re both like “please sit down and let me take care of you”?

hi! ty for ur request! spencer beloved

You force yourself to get out of bed at the sound of the door opening.

The first thing Spencer does is call your name. "Are you here?"

You don't trust your voice to keep it together if you shout. You wipe at your oily face with your long sleeves and make your way out into the hall from the bedroom. Spencer's already dropped his satchel by the door, though there's no sign of him besides that, so you make your way into the kitchen and cringe at the mess you haven't managed to clean yet.

If he saw it he doesn't say anything, head already buried in the fridge.

"Spence," you greet quietly. You don't sound too sick — you're thrilled to see him — but his shoulders tense up immediately, and he turns with pinched eyebrows.

"Hey," he says, a bottle of water in hand.

The door closes behind him, and he crosses the short distance to gather you in a quick hug. You missed him, and he smells nice. When he pulls away you're practically heartbroken.

He holds you at arms length, which is when you notice his bruise.

"What happened?" you ask.

"You're sick," he says at the same time, your voices overlapping.

Neither of you wants to go first, but Spencer's too nice for his own good. "Unsub with a penchant for bad decisions," he explains, offhanded. His hand climbs to your hot neck. He frowns. "How long have you been like this?"

You can't stand being apart from him for at least another ten minutes. "Not long," you say, threading your arms around his neck again and forcing him to hug you. To be fair, he's your boyfriend, and he reciprocated despite his obvious apprehension. He always wants to fix everything as fast as he can.

He sighs as he pulls you forward, arms crossing over your back in a hug as tight as you'd craved. The bottle cap of his water digs into your spine, and his hair tickles your cheek. "You should've called me," he murmurs.

"It wouldn't have changed anything. You should have called me."

"It wouldn't have changed anything," he repeats.

You laugh and your laugh makes you cough, rushing to pull away so you can cover your mouth. "I'm sorry," you say croakily.

"You realise I'm gonna take care of you?" he asks.

If you had the energy, you'd glare. "Me first."

"No way." He passes over his water bottle. "You can start with that. When did you last eat? What are your symptoms? You're really hot, but your cough sounds pretty superficial. Shortness of breath?"

"What did he hit you with?" you challenge in turn. "His fist? Or did you get pistol whipped?" You soften, eyes roving over his freshly shorn hair, his curls limp. "Are you okay?"

"Don't baby me," he says, reaching out to give your upper arm a good squeeze. "C'mon. Bath time."

You let him drag you into your too small bathroom with a smile on your face. It's nice to be looked after, and if he thinks he's gotten away with anything he's sorely mistaken. "You need an ice pack."

"I need you to be less stubborn."

"I need you to let me take care of you."

There's a small silence. His thumb rubs over the back of your hand. "I can compromise," he says.

You let him sit you on the closed toilet lid and kiss your forehead, listening to him debate bath salts with an acute adoration. You'd really, really missed him.

He catches you staring at him.

"I know," he says softly. "It doesn't even hurt."

You kiss it better anyways.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

2K notes · View notes

sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months

Text

Hangovers and Hickeys

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: no idea rn lmao probably like 700

A/N: some Spence content before the new year (on the western calendar). Hope you all get to enjoy the day!

“Good morning sunshine.”

You winced at the sheer volume of his voice. “If I could, id shove you off of the roof Derek Morgan.”

“Fun night?”

You snorted and finally lifted your head off of the desk. “You should be a profiler.”

That caused Derek to laugh, which made you wince and close your eyes. The sunglasses perched on your nose were supposed to be helping. They weren’t.

“That’s a nice hickey you got there.”

You grunted in response and tried to adjust your sweater collar so it would cover the hickey you missed this morning when you didn’t look in the mirror. You had basically rolled out of bed, and into your car to make sure you got to work on time.

“Who gave it to you?” “Why don’t you use your super duper profiling skills to deduce it or whatever Sherlock shit you wanna do.”

Derek snorted and shook his head. ”or you could just….tell me.”

“Don’t worry about it Derek.” You grumbled.

When Derek realized he wasn’t going to get any answers out of you about it, he decided he was going to change tactics.

“Moving on from Boy Wonder?” It was no secret that you had a crush on a certain nerdy doctor. And so Derek tried to use this knowledge to his advantage.

You crossed your arms and just raised your eyebrows. “I’m not dignifying that with a response,”

“Pretty sure that was my answer.” He chuckled, sitting down in his chair and swiveling to look at you.

When you decided to just ignore Derek, and face your desk, he piped up again. “Where is he anyways?” “No idea.”

It was like he was waiting for his cue from you. Spencer pushed open the doors to the bull pen and strolled in. He had his purple scarf around his neck, over his new coat that Henry (JJ) had gotten him for Christmas. It was a beautiful grey pea coat that kept him warm during these freezing winter months. Spender was carrying a tray with two coffees on it and what seemed like a bag from McDonalds, which seemed to be for you, since he was headed in your direction.

The smell of the food caused you to groan with joy and smile at the man walking towards you.

“My knight in shining armor.” You muttered as he placed the whole tray in front of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek hasilty, causing him to blush a little.

“I got hashbrowns from both McDonald’s and Dunkin’, a little smorgasbord of grease for your pallet.” He whispered before taking one of the cups out of the tray.

“I’m going to marry you Doctor Spencer Reid.” You muttered, digging into the bag and pulling out one of the McDonald’s hash browns and biting into it. The groan you let out leaned a little on the pornographic side, which made Derek raise his eyebrows at the sound you let out, and then at tinge of pink on Spencer’s cheeks.

You continued eating, clueless about the silent interrogation happening to your left, enjoying every single bite and sip of your hangover cure.

“Derek I can hear you thinking and it’s making my head throb.”

Derek’s eyes snapped back to you, as your figure swiveled in the chair to face him, casually munching on some of the fries, in a completely different mood then from two minutes ago before Spencer had walked in the room.

“Sorry your highness. I’m just curious as to why Boy Genius here is bringing you hangover cures.”

“Well it’s his fault I’m this fucked up so he owes me.” You grumbled, swiveling around in your chair to face your desk. You pulled your lap top out of your canvas bag and started to set up for your work day.

“Wha-how is it his fault.”

That’s when Spencer turned bright red and tried to change the conversation, or at least get out of it. “I—well it’s not…I….hotch is…”

Spencer basically ran across the bullpen and up the stairs to Hotch’s office, avoiding the conversation he almost just had.

“I don’t think you wanna know.” You smirked and bit into the muffin from Dunks that Spencer had got you, not looking at the man behind you.

“I’m starting to think that too.” His eyes narrowed and he looked between where Spencer had run off to, and you.

Something was going on between the two of you, and Derek Morgan was going to figure it out.

2K notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 4 months

Text

Pretty Boy

spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings: (MINORS DNI!) sloppy, filthy male oral a/n: this is more of a drabble (915 words) so there’s no taglist. I was going through clips trying to make an edit and this scene had me thinking, ‘I need to give this man some head.’ Thus, this is the result of my horny mind. Sorry not sorry.

HE WAS TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. With lips slightly parted, the strong lines of his features softened into a restful state as he savored the way your lips wrapped around him.

Your mouth slid down the length of his cock, tongue running along every inch, and you watched as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.

"Please..." he groaned, the word strained as it left his tongue. The way he whimpered and thrust his hips into your mouth sent a rush of adrenaline through your body. You had him right where you wanted him, on the edge, desperate for release, flushed with sweat beading against his forehead.

And who were you to deny a man in need? You kept your eyes fixed on his face as your nails dug into his thighs, and pushed down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat. You tried to swallow him whole, yet you couldn't help but gag a little, rearing back with a cough.

A string of saliva slipped out of your mouth as you looked up at him. He really was pretty. Long, dark lashes framed his eyes as he watched your every movement. A faint stubble adorned his chiseled jawline. And his lips, wide and soft, were slacked open as you leaned forward again, the same time his fingers found their way into your hair, grabbing a fistful of it as your tongue licked the underside of his cock.

You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. You wrapped your fingers around him as you slowly took the head in your mouth, sucking carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.

You twisted your hand around him, because everything was slippery enough to do that, and you started to move your head. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises followed by his moans of pleasure. His desperate whimper was like music in your ears, and you continued to move along his cock, giving everything he wanted.

With each bob of your head, you took him deeper until the tip hit your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged again. But you continued to take him deeper until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow him fully.

"Oh, god," he moaned. "That—that's it, such a pretty mouth..."

His praise only gave you the urge to take him deeper and all of a sudden your lips were at his base, his cock buried deep inside your mouth further than you ever thought possible.

You slowly gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He looked down at you when you stopped moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat; your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide around his girth. Your stare was unrelenting and his grip on your hair tightened.

He was close. You could feel it. You felt it in the way he guided your head, speeding you up faster and faster until he was practically using your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually, you gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked. After all, he looked too pretty for you to stop him.

Your jaw hurt, and your knees burned from being on the floor for too long, but you didn't care. Not when he was looking at you like you were the best gift he had ever received. And maybe you were, because honestly, you would give him everything he asked for. Not only because he deserved it, but because you enjoyed being used for his pleasure as much as he did.

You moaned when he tightened the grip in your hair, the sound sending vibrations over his cock, causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth. You were desperate to try and keep up with his rough pace, his hips snapping into your mouth relentlessly.

You gagged around him again, feeling the burn in the back of your throat, your eyes watering, your lips stretching around his thick shaft, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. He looked down at you, and god, he couldn't hold it any longer.

With sloppy, determined thrusts, he finally erupted in your mouth with a groan. You felt your throat swell with the warm, salty substance as you inhaled through your nose and swallowed it down eagerly. He continued to reach his high and you continued to suck, making sure you swallowed every last drop until he could no longer take it anymore, his body going weak from the overstimulation.

You finally released him with a soft pop when he started to relax. You felt his hand brush over your face gently while you stayed on your knees, right between his thighs. A blissed-out, tired smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you in wonder.

You smiled back at him. A gentle haze lingered in his eyes, his brown orbs seeming a little bit brighter. His tousled hair, touched by his erratic movements because he couldn’t keep still, framed a face illuminated by a serene glow. His features were a beauty beyond the physical, leaving you utterly captivated.

He was so damn pretty, and the best thing was—he was your pretty boy.

1K notes · View notes

creativesaturn · 2 months

Text

Summary: Helping Spencer turn the page.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Warnings: None!

Word count: 217

a/n: is the decal stupid, should I change it or keep it😭😭

You sat next to Spencer on the plush leather couch. Your head leaning on his shoulder as you tried to read the page as fast as you could before he turned to the next one.

You were only half reading anyways, every time he'd turn the page when you weren't done, you'd just read what you could.

The silence that filled the apartment was comforting and calming to the mind. The sound of his breathing, his blinking, and the soft pattering of his heart against his chest made you almost sleepy.

His thumb went up to his lips to coat it in saliva to turn the next page easier. Your eyes looked up through eye lashes as he did so.

"Cotton mouth?" You joked in a soft tone.

"Yeah," Spencer responded with a smile, trying to wet his mouth.

"I got it." You whispered, grabbing onto his hand and licking the tip of his thumb.

His face grew a bright red as you did so. Unsure if he should laugh, or smile to hide his nervous demeanour.

"Thanks." He mumbled, smiling at you as he turned the page.

You smiled back, moving yourself impossibly closer to him. Your eyes grew heavier as his heart beat quickened, the sound turning into a lullaby as you shut your eyes.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

119 notes · View notes

mandarinmoons · 18 days

Note

hmmmmm maybe reader being drunk flirty at a bar or something in front of the team and spencer is trying SO hard to save face but its not happening because reader is obsessed with him?

and ofc the team is teasing the hell outta him and will never let it go

https://www.tumblr.com/mandarinmoons/746776666636976128/ok-i-need-this-line-in-a-fic

ugh sorry that if that sucks

No no that certainly does not suck hehe

Not many knew this, but those who did (also known as Penelope Garcia) knew that you had quite the little crush on your coworker Spencer Reid. During breaks you’d go to Penelope’s cave and half of the time you’d gush about how cute Spencer looked in the outfit he chose for the day or how your hands brushed as you reached for the same mug in the kitchen as you both craved some coffee. In other words, whenever he was around, you were toast.

After finishing an extremely exhausting case the team decided to head out to a bar and you were determined not to hold back with drinks. A few glasses of wine and a round of shots later you felt like you were floating. Spencer kept his eyes on you with great concern and as you wobbled your way to the bar to get another mojito, he was on your tail and wrapped an arm around you to help steady you.

“Easy now,” you leaned to the side and Spencer pulled you close to him, but because of your shaky legs you ended up face planting into his chest.

“Wow,” you giggled and patted Spencer’s chest as you looked up at him.

Spencer’s cheeks were getting noticeably red and it was visible for the rest or the team back at the booth. You could hear them chuckling and teasing Spencer to “go get ‘em!”.

“Oh hey, how’d these end up here?” you took Spencer’s hands and placed them around your waist, even though you were the one initiating the flirty banter you still felt butterflies swarm your stomach.

“H-Hey, let’s go sit down, okay?” your actions were clearly making the man nervous and it only made you want to tease him more. Sober you might never be able to get the right words out, but drunk you decided to take matters differently.

“Nooo, I wanna be at the bar with you,” pouting your lips and fluttering your lashes made Spencer’s heart skip a beat, how could he say no to you? You couldn’t tell, but he did have a bit of a crush on you as well and seeing you act this way with him did fill him with joy.

“Okay okay, only for a little yeah?”

You nodded and Spencer helped you sit down at a stool and kept his arm around you so you wouldn’t fall face first onto the floor. You got the drink you wanted and Spencer made sure you took small sips so you wouldn’t rush to get another one. As much as he had a hard time saying no to you he didn’t want to end up taking care of a hung over you in the morning, not that he didn’t want to, but because of his fear of germs he knew he wouldn’t be able to clean up your puke.

Slowly you rested your head on the counter and Spencer reached over and brushed the hair from your face. You stirred a bit and leaned into Spencer’s hand as his fingers rested on your cheek.

Spencer loved the affection you’d shown him tonight and he wished that it would’ve happened during different circumstances. He knew that alcohol made people act irrationally and the chances of you being so loving could be added up to that, however, alcohol also showed people’s true feelings and the chances of you liking back were the same and that’s all he needed to know.

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

473 notes · View notes

mvndfvelds · 2 months

Text

HELLO !! i've not written any fanfiction in like 3 years so excuse how awful this is, but the spencer reid obsession is just too strong to resist. also there are a serious lack of gn!reader and especially male!reader fics, so if i ever write it'll be for those pairings :))

here's a cringey little valentine's day drabble x

-------------------------------------------------------------

☆ pairing: gn!reader × spencer reid (no use of 'y/n')

-------------------------------------------------------------

Valentine's day is overrated anyway, right? At least that's what you've been telling yourself all day whilst being silently bitter about the fact Spencer, your roommate, probably already has a date.

It had hit around 6pm, and you had yet to hear Spencer move from his room - in all honesty, he probably had a date with about 10 books this evening anyway. The romance films all seemed a little too much today, so you ended up laying there staring out the window with a takeaway pizza box laying across your stomach.

Giving up on sitting alone, you swung your legs off the sofa and onto the floor, padding up to Spencer's door and raising a tentative hand to knock.

"Come in!"

You poked your head around the door, still not wanting to intrude fully. You opened your mouth to speak, but he butted in already, "look. If you're gonna comment on the fact I'm alone today, I'd like to remind you that you are too."

"I- wow, you think so lowly of me!" You snarked, "I was going to ask if you wanted to watch something with me seeing as we're both alone?"

"Statistically, there's still 30% of Americans who spend their Valentine's day alone or with friends anyway. Besides, it's all developed into feeding into capitalism now. Oh, and yes, I'd like to watch something!" He rambled whilst you smiled fondly and turned to leave, assuming he was trailing near behind you.

Both of you flopped to the sofa again, the soft lighting in the living room was almost romantic when you looked to Spencer. You tore your eyes away and trailed through the romcoms - Spencer would never admit it, but his guilty pleasure film is '10 Things I Hate About You'.

Halfway through the film you draped a blanket over yourself, revelling in the fact Spencer had moved his feet into your lap afterwards. It wasn't out of the ordinary to be subtly affectionate with Spencer anymore, you'd both taken a fair while to settle into a domestic life, but it was second nature now. Though that didn’t mean your heart didn’t stutter a little at every touch.

"I don't really understand high-school hierarchies," he said absent-mindedly, referring to the film.

"Me neither, though I don't either of us need high-school hierarchies to be considered 'nerds', do we?"

He chuckled lightly before deciding to reposition himself on the sofa entirely, turning the other way and asking, "can I lay my head on you?" You nodded, slightly bemused by his wriggling, focusing on the TV.

One of his lanky arms had made its way to drape over your lap, and one of your hands had settled on playing with his hair. Nearing the end of the film, during Kat's monologue, Spencer sniffled lightly.

"Spence... are you crying?"

He shook his head defiantly, "no? It's just a film."

You held his chin gently and turned his head so he was looking up at you from your lap with teary eyes. You cooed teasingly making his face heat up, "see, you're just a little crybaby. No shame in it, man, we've all been there."

You ran a thumb over his cheekbone, catching a stray tear and wiping it away. "If you weren't a pretty crier I'd take the piss out of you right now, y'know?" You said, sounding far too fond when it was only supposed to be a joking comment.

Evidently this wasn't going to slip past Mr. BAU, so he grinned up at you shyly and muttered, "you think I'm pretty?"

You nodded, face pink, you'd fallen into your own failed sarcasm and there was no way out at this point. Ah, fuck it, you may as well take your chances. You leant down slowly, your intention clear, waiting for a sign that he was happy with this. It soon came as he lifted his head slightly to meet your lips in a gentle kiss. You let out a small whine when he flopped back down with a satisfied grin, finding one of your hands and playing with your fingers gently.

"I guess we don't fit into that 30% anymore, right?"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid drabble #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg fluff #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x gn!reader

101 notes · View notes