#Dr Spencer Reid

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid dilf agenda #margot's requests

[golden1u5t]

worship you | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: @cosmicblogs

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary:  spencer takes notice of how you react to being praised so he takes that information and runs with it. 

"what If he's saving them? the body parts." you thought aloud, twirling your pen between your fingers as you looked up at the rest of the team. you were the newest member so when everyone just stared at you, you thought that maybe your ideas was stupid. "nevermind, I- I just thought-"

"no, you're right. that's why we can't find the missing limbs, he's keeping them." spencer spoke up, he turned around to look at you for a second. "thats good. you're good, y/n."

you felt your face heat up at his compliment, suddenly sitting up straight and feeling the need to fix your hair. "oh! thank you, dr. reid."

he turned around to look at you from over his shoulder, a smile on his face before turning back around. you could feel the rest of the teams eyes on you and you could only hope that they hadn't picked up on your sudden nervousness. you excused yourself from the little room you all were gathered in at the police department, you needed to get out of the room with him before you embarrassed yourself.

+++

"you did good today, you thought of things no one else had considered." spencer smiled at you and set his bags on the bed he would be taking for the duration of your stay.

"thank you, dr. reid." you whispered and immediately shoved past him to hide your face but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back before you could. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked over you, he could tell you were flustered but he just couldn't pin point why. he always has been oblivious to his attractiveness.

"you don't have to call me that." he mumbled, his hand loosening on your arm. he moved to take your bags off your shoulder and out of your hand. "do you wanna shower first, pretty?"

your eyes widened by a lot and you literally had a keep yourself from moaning so instead of sticking around you darted into the bathroom, forgetting about the fact your clothes and all of your hygiene products were in the room with spencer but were too flushed to go back in there so the little travel sized products the hotel provided would have to do for the night.

while you were in the shower, spencer sat at the edge of his bed trying to figure out why you were so flustered. it didn't click until he replayed the conversations he had with you throughout the day, that's when he noticed the pattern. you only got flustered after he'd compliment you or after he praised you for your good work. he chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"spencer?" you cracked the bathroom door open and poked your head out, spencer looked up at the sound of your voice. "can you close your eyes? I don't have my clothes, only a towel."

"of course." he stood up and moved to sit on the opposite side of the bed that faced the wall, even though his back was towards you he still closed his eyes like he said he would. you doubled checked that he wasn't looking before unwrapping the towel and quickly put your night clothes on. you let him know that he could open his eyes, you put the rest of your things away and moved your bags to the floor before getting into the bed. "you wanna know something I figured out?"

"sure, is it about the case? if so, we should probably call the team." you started to reach for your phone but Spencer quickly told you that it wasn't about the case. he walked around his bed and sat on the side of yours.

"you like being complimented, praised." he hummed. you dry chuckled and shook your head, starting to deny it and say that you didn't know what he was talking about. "you get all shy and flustered. I think you like it when i praise you. can I do that, can i praise you more?"

you moved off of the bed, you weren't sure where you were going but spencer pulled you back before you could stray too far. he pulled you closer to him until you were standing in between his open legs. 

"spencer, I-"

"tell me if I'm overstepping, y/n. we can go to bed now and pretend it never happened." he whispered, he loosened his grip so you could easily slip out of his hold if you wanted to. you looked at him for a moment, heart beating fast in your chest. your eyes darted down to his lips and back to his eyes. you could've slipped out of his hold and did what he said, go to bed and forget about it, but you didn't; you sat down onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"please?" you breathed against his lips, feeling him wrap his arms around you and pull you impossibly closer to him. spencer brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head and crashed his lips into yours. things escalated almost immediately, you tugging his shirt off while he took yours off. spencer moved you onto your back and pushed your thighs apart to make room for himself. he nudged your jaw with his nose until you tilted your head back, he pressed his lips to your pulse point and smiled when he felt how fast your heart was beating.

"can I?" he asked, his hand playing with the waistline of your shorts. you nodded you head but quickly voiced your approval when you noticed the look he gave you.

spencer sat up and tugged your shorts and underwear down your legs, tossing them behind his head and leaning down to kiss you again. his hand traveled in between your bodies until he reached your cunt, his slim fingers running through your wet slit and smearing your arousal over your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

"you're beautiful." he looked down at you, looking at how your lips parted to let out some of the most beautifulest sounds he'd ever heard, sounds he would never forget, sounds he would replay in his mind over and over again. he moved his fingers from your clit to prod against your entrance before slowly pushing one finger inside, drinking in the soft moans you let out.

"spencer, please- need more." your hips rutted up into him, his fingers felt great but they weren't enough and he seemed to understand that with just those few words.

even though you knew he needed to take his fingers out in order to give you want you really wanted, you still whined out at the loss. spencer grazed his wet fingers over your hip before leaning back on his legs and unbuckling his pants.

he had to get off of the bed in order to get his pants and boxers off but when he did he got back on the bed. you sat up on your elbows and looked down at his cock that rested over your cunt, eyes widening as you took in his girth. "oh my gosh- i don't-you're big."

you moved your hand and reached down to wrap your hand around him, your lips parted as you realized that your fingers didn't connect. spencer looked down at your hand wrapped around his cock, his hips jerked forward when you swiped your thumb over his red tip.

"you can take it, i know you can." he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft kiss. spencer's hips pushed forward into your hand when you started to move your hand, he caught your wrist and took your hand off of him. he sat up and hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you until they were flush against his abdomen. "ready, pretty?"

"yes, m'ready." you nodded, spencer guided his cock through your folds to smear your slick before he slowly slid into you. your head fell back as you gasped at the intrusion of his cock, the stretch was slightly painful. you hadn't been with anyone in a while, especially not with anyone as big as spencer.

he kept his pace slow for you, steadying himself with his hand resting above your head. he pushed your thighs apart and you wrapped them around his waist, letting out a soft moan as the pain subdued and was replaced with pleasure.

spencer kissed down your jaw and ghosted his lips over your collarbone. you used your legs to pull him further into you, whining when he pushed so much deeper into your cunt. "you want more?"

you nodded your head quickly. spencer sat up and grabbed your hips, snapping his hips into your faster and harder. "you're so pretty, you look so good like this."

you let out a small whimper at his compliment, your face heating up and making you turn away from him to hide your face. spencer chuckled and pulled out of you, hissing as he did so. you quickly looked at him with wide eyes but he laid down and pulled you on top of him before you could protest. you lifted your hips and held his cock as you sank down onto him, you moved your hands to his chest and started to ride him.

spencer let you control your pace but he kept his hands on your waist. his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched your face twist in pleasure, he groaned lowly feeling your cunt squeeze around him.

"m'so close, fuck-" you cried out, hips lifting and dropping quicker. spencer planted his feet onto the bed and started to lift his hips up to help you cum faster. normally, you probably would’ve lasted a bit longer but not tonight, the feeling of his cock against your walls and all the praise he was giving you was starting to get overwhelming.

your body fell forward as your orgasm finally shook you, you whined and moaned spencer's name into his ear. spencer's head tipped back as he felt himself about to cum, he quickly pulled out and started to stroke his cock to get himself off. when he came it was messy, his cum shooting up between you both and landing on his and your chest.

you sat up and huffed, pushing your hair out of your face and smiled down at him. "I think I like being praised by you."

"of course you do." he chuckled and pulled you down to kiss him.

#golden1u5t #myrarants #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

[reiderwriter]

♤ I Can't Help Myself ♤

“Look, Spencer. I probably have nothing against you personally. But I've just been conned into another three months of probationary minimum wage because your boss at the Bureau decided he wanted rid of you for a month or two. Some of us didn't get child genius scholarships for multiple PhDs and aren't receiving two paychecks right now.” “If money is an issue, Y/N, you know I could-” “No. No, stop butting into my personal problems. We can be civil, but we're not… we're not friends, Spencer.” You stepped back and let out another sigh as you forced the words to stand between you. “Okay. I'll stay out of your way.” “Great. Looking forward to it.” “Sure. Me too.”

Synopsis: Just when you think everything is going right for you, Spencer Reid walks into your life and ruins everything. Stealing your job and half of your office, you can manage, but you won't let him steal your heart as well.

Warnings (possible spoilers): Enemies to lovers, academic rivals to lovers, slight age gap, Professor Reader x Professor Spencer, eventual smut, unplanned pregnancy.

A/N: Welcome to my new series! This one specifically is dedicated to the one anon in my inbox that has been asking only for enemies to lovers for like 8 months now, but also to anyone who is a great enemies-with-benefits-to-lovers fan!

Masterlist || 5k Celebration Challenge

Chapter One - Puppet on a String

Chapter Two - 20/5/24

Chapter Three - 27/5/24

Chapter Four - 3/6/24

Chapter Five - 10/6/24

Chapter Six - 17/6/24

Chapter Seven - 24/6/24

Chapter Eight - 1/7/24

Chapter Nine - 8/7/24

Chapter Ten - 15/7/24

Epilogue One - 22/7/24

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[zvdvdlvr]

— Morning Smoke

💜 — Synopsis. You knew you had a thing for the one person who had a clear distaste towards you. But maybe having a wet dream about him- while sleeping in the same room as him- was probably a good thing.

💜 — Warnings. Rushed writing. Unedited. Dry humping. Clothed grinding. Reader and Spencer smoke cigarettes.

One year, eleven months, and six days. Thats how long you’d been working for the BAU catching serial killers, bombers, and rapists by observing every detail if their crime. You’re a valuable asset to the team, your brain working on the same page as the rest of the team with just a different design. 

During your time at the BAU, you recieved many titles. Caffeine fiend(Aaron), best friend(Penny), mama (Derek), and idiot- affectionately- (Emily). The only person that hadn’t called you anything other than your first or last name, or agent was Spencer Reid.

There was a barrier between the two of you- unspoken, of course, but there was just some kind of wall seperating you from him. You didn’t blame Spencer for keeping you at at arm’s length: you were just some new agent who would eventually transfer. Admittedly, it hurt when Spencer politely uninvited himself from the activities you went along with. And it felt like a gut punch when Spencer chose the farthest seat from you on the jet and chose to move away from you while giving profiles to the police. But you figured he had his reasons.

“Y/n,” Emily murmured, nudging your arm. You looked up, bleary eyes focussing on the dark haired woman in front of you. You blinked.

“What’s- hey!” You cried out indignantly as Emily snatched the cold cup if coffee you had started to reach for. “Emily.”

“It’s time to go back to the hotel. Hotch’s orders,” the dark haired woman said, nodding to the team behind you.

You nodded. “Okay.” You stood up and hastily tucked papers into the manilla folder you were working on. “I’m ready.”

“Put those files down, y/n,” Hotch commanded, raising a tired eyebrow in your direction. “If I’m tired, you have to be a dead woman walking.”

You put the file down and pulled your coat on without protest. You’d only actually seen Hotch exhausted a handful of times. And Hotch was right: you did feel like you were about to fall over. Maybe having an iron deficiency and drinking coffee off an empty stomach wasn’t a very pleasant experience…

The ride to the hotel was over in a blink of an eye- a really ling blink apparently. You hadn’t even known you had reached the hotel until the inevitable and only boy genius Spencer Reid shook your shoulder gently to wake you up. Truly, you thought you were dreaming when you opened your eyes and Spencer’s face surrounded by a mat of curly hair greated you. His furrowd eyebrows relaxed when you looked around.

“Let’s go, l/n. You’re rooming with me,” Spencer told you after locking the car.

If you were in the right state of mind, you probably would have bent over giggling from the way Spencer put his arm around you as he led you into the building. But you weren’t so you just rested your head in the juncture if his shoulder and neck. He smelled good for someone who’d been awake for God knows how long. If you concentrated you thought you could feel the heat of his palm around you, moving in teeny tiny circles.

By the time you reached the bedroom you were practically unconscious in Spencer’s arms, yours and his go-bag around Spencer’s other arm. Spencer gently set you down on the bed closest to the door and put your go-bag in the bed beside you. “You should probably get changed, but I know how tired you are. I’ll shower tonight so you can shower tomorrow,” he explained, brushing a baby hair out of your line of sight. “Goodnight.”

“G’night, Spence,” you mumbled, eyes caught in the way Spencer’s lips moved and twitched. He was an expressive man when he was tired, and you caught the rare smile that graced his lips.

You hoped you would remember the blush on his cheekbones that matched the color of his lips when you woke up the next morning.

Birds chirped. The bright sun shone through the blinds of your home, patterning your room with strips of orangey-yellow. You turned over and saw him.

“Hey, you,” Spencer greeted. His hand came to rest gently on your cheek and pull you up to his pink lips. Your leg fluidly moved to straddle Spencer’s right leg.

Breathlessly you muttered a “good morning” before your hand tangled in Spencer’s curly hair, tugging his head down to meet your desperate kisses.

Spencer moved his thigh up to rub harshly on your core. You gasped sharply and ground down to meet Spencer’s thigh. “Oh fuck,” you whispered, watching Spencer’s back arch as you palmed the massive tent in his pants.

A strangled cry left your lips when Spencer’s massive hands fell onto your hips and controlled your movements. “That’s my girl,” Spencer growled, your hands feeling up Spencer’s chest and tracing the curves and lines of his neck. As your orgasm approached, your hands grasped Spencer’s face and harshly pulled him into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n,” Spencer murmured, voice low.

“Fuck,” you cursed. “Jus’ like that,” you slurred.

“Y/n,” Spencer repeated, one hand sliding up to your shoulder.

Your jaw clenched and your hips jerked violently.

“Y/n.”

You shot up in bed, sweat soaking your forhead and hair. You looked around wildly, chest heaving. 

In front of you sat Spencer Walter Reid, eyes beady with sleep. “Are you okay? You sounded like you were having a nightmare-?”

“Fuck, fuck,” you whispered, running a hand through your hair. “I’m- yeah I’m alright. I just-“ you exhaled. “Go back to bed, Reid, I’m alright.”

“A-Are you sure?”

You wanted to groan. The ruins of a spoiled orgasm simmered away in your blood. “Yes. I just- Yeah it was a nightmare. I’m gonna- go get ready.”

“L/n, it is 4 o’clock in the morning.”

You thanked the dark lighting for concealing the dark patch of your pants due to your arousal. “It’s- Please go back to bed.”

“Talk to me,” Spencer pleaded, grabbing your hand.

“It’s nothing, Reid. There’s nothing to talk about. Go to bed.”

“It’s a proven fact that people who discuss their nightmares with someone increase their happiness and healing process by more than 50%,” Spencer rushed.

“Reid it’s embarrassing. I can’t-“ you shook your head. “I’ll- please, Reid.”

The moonlight glinted in his eyes as he searched you for answers he knew you wouldn’t give him. “Are you- y/n. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. Your thighs burned- you must have been humping the blanket between your thighs. “Reid, you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

You threw your hands up. “I know you don’t like me, Reid. It’s kind of obvious, so I’m just saying that you don’t need to have a therapy session because we’re rooming together.”

Spencer genuinely looked offended. “I don’t hate you,” he murmured. “I never have.”

You scoffed and stood up, dream completely forgotten. “Could have fooled me, Reid. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left Spencer on your bed, bringing your go-bag to the tiny bathroom.

— 💜

After scrubbing you skin raw you finally exited the shower and pulled your hair into a braided updo before pulling on some clean clothes.

The sky was still dark when you exited the hotel, cigarette box in hand.

You sat in the ground, smart enough to know not to willingly wander too far outside of the vicinity of the rest of the team while at an unfamiliar location. “Goddamnit,” you murmured, lighting up a cigarette and watching the sun start to stain the concrete.

Visions of dead bodies filled your mind. Empty coffee cups getting tossed into a trash can, bloodstained hands as you ushered a victim away from the unsub, the ringing in your ears after an SUV blew up near you. When you joined the BAU you hadn’t known that every day you looked into the eyes of those possessed by evil, you would lose a part of your soul trying to save each and every person you saw.

But the team had it’s pros. A group of people you mostly called family, good pay, paid sick leave, mostly free flights, a badass title, and introduction to some very fine specimens (read: Spencer Walter Reid).

Speaking of Spencer, you were thinking of the conversation you both had. ‘I don’t hate you. I never have’. You snorted and lit another cigarette, holding the smoke in your lungs until familiar white spots danced in your vision.

“Y/n.”

You looked up. Spencer stood near you, hands fidgeting. You could see his eyes avoiding yours and suddenly you felt like laughing. After all of this time thinking one of the hottest people you’d ever met hated you, he was standing- nervous- in front of you. “Yeah?”

Spencer sat beside you. “Didn’t know you smoked,” he tried, looking towards the rising sun.

“You refused to make comversation with me for about a month when I started,” you said lowly. When Spencer sighed beside you, you added “I don’t normally. Just when… things happen.”

Spencer nodded. “Oh.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you exhaled. You offered the cigarette to Spencer, raising an eyebrow when he accepted.

“I want to talk to you,” Soencer said finally, snuffing out the cigarette.

You lit another one. “So talk.”

“Well, I… I’m sorry.”

When Spencer didn’t say anything for another few seconds, you turned to him. “Is that all?”

Spencer dropped his head into his hands. “Look, I knew I was keeping you at arm’s length. I thought… I thought keeping you away would make sure that I didn’t…” Spencer sighed.

“Reid, I need tou to really spell it out for me. I can’t keep dancing around your riddles,” you said, facing the sun.

“I love you, y/n. I thought that if I didn’t talk to you, let these feelings grow… Maybe I could harbor my attraction to you.” 

You felt your heart skip in your chest.  “You didn’t consider telling me this? What if I felt the same?”

Spencer looked at you, a confused look in his eyes. “You didn’t like me like that and I couldn’t force you to love me too. You’re way too good for me anyway.”

“I do,” you reply, nodding. “And I’m not too good for you, Spencer. If anything, you should find better than me.”

Prolonged eye contact and silence fell over the both of you.

“Ask me now, Spencer. Make up for lost time.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Spencer lips at your request. “Do you like me like I like you, y/n?”

You nodded, mirroring Spencer’s smile. “I do like you the way you like me, Spencer.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” Spencer asked immediately, eyes dropping to your lips.

You closed the distance between the two of you, hand sliding up the nape of Spencer’s neck to tangle in his curls. Spencer’s lips were skilled, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.

“So, about that dream I had earlier,” you started.

A sly smirk replaced the smile on Spencer’s face. “I knew what you were dreaming about, I just couldn’t stand listen to you knowing how weird it would be for me to face you at work the next morning.”

You felt your face warm up at Spencer’s words. “Oh. Well. Sorry for waking you up, then.”

Spencer just shrugged. “I’m not- you sound very nice. I guess I will admit the fact that I told you about talking about your dreams was completely false. I just wanted to pry.”

You shook your head with laughter, the sun peeking up even further in the sky.

#spencer reid #jules writes 📓🖊 #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #x female reader #fluff #x reader #spencer reid x self insert #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

[gtgbabie0]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

Spencer Reid is very ticklish, you first found this out wrapped up in a mess of limbs and soft blankets on his bed. His arm slinks around you as he holds you close to his chest. The pair of you are engrossed in some sci-fi movie that plays on Spencer's crappy TV that you need to hit in order to turn it on.

You trail your nails along his bicep unconsciously, completely taken away by the action on the TV screen. However, your attention is soon turned to Spencer when you feel his muscles tense underneath your fingertips, his skin breaking out in goosebumps and the breathy giggle that escapes his lips.

“Are you ticklish?” You can’t help but tease him, looking over at him with a playfulness that gleams through your eyes. Spencer shakes his head with an adamant 'no'.

“What? No, I’m not ticklish.” He says but you can tell by the way his voice wavers that it’s a clear as day lie. His eyes meet yours and he knows you don’t believe a word he’s saying. “I’m serious… I’m not ticklish.”

You’d test him again, later in the week when he’s reading Sherlock Holmes to you. Your head rests against his chest as you listen closely to the way he tells the story.

The warmth of his arms wrapped around you and the sound of his voice blankets you in a calmness that can only be found with him. You can’t help but nuzzle yourself closer to him, after-all Spencer is practically a human radiator.

You look up at him as he reads, watching the way his lips move with the words. That’s when the idea hits you, a sly smirk painting your face with mischief and Spencer is none the wiser.

Until he feels the feather-light kisses that you pepper along the underside of his jaw. His voice falters, quivering ever so slightly as he tries so hard to grasp at the last bits of his composure.

“You’re definitely ticklish…” you whisper, trailing your lips down his neck barely grazing the sensitive skin. He can’t help it, the giggle that bubbles up within his throat as you continue to kiss him.

The sound that escapes him is wonderful, something about it makes your chest ache with love and you can’t stop yourself from joining in. The pair of you giggling breathlessly as your lips map out the ticklish areas of his skin.

“Alright… okay… you win!” He breathes, succumbing to you as he abandons the book that was in his hands and gives in to you with a loving expression.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

raaah ticklish Spencer Reid… raaah

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid oneshot #dr spencer reid #spencer reid cm #cm spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds blurb

[ourautumn86]

Filthy Rich

Spencer Reid x Fem! reader PT.1

pt2!

✧ Synopsis;; Spencer Reid was filthy rich, for he was royalty. Handsome, charming and a gentleman, a dream dressed in pure silk for any kind of woman. But not you.

✧ y/n is a mere slave of a nobel family who just turned 22. On the night of the prince’s royal ball she is dragged against her will to this dance just to be used as a coat rack for the purses and coats of the family ladies, who, of course, treat her like absolute sh’t, to the point where they could agreed to hand her over for a generous amount of gold.

“Just name your price, sweetheart.”

“Screw you, my prince.”

Just how lucky you were for had caught the

prince’ s attention!

< enemies to lovers 3

17th century royalty! inspired by bridgerton!

CW;; this series might include 18+ content (details will be given at the start of each new part uploaded) MINORS DNI AND SKIP!!!

WARNINGS PART ONE: mention of blood, abuse, cursing and slave trafficking.

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

WORD COUNT;; 2k!

Her faced seemed to tell everything: she hated it.

She hated everything. From the music, to the little stupid shoes that clacked against the floor. The floral scent, the wine, the giggles… She hated the ton*. Every single one of them,

Everything. It was a goddamn nightmare.

“y/n! You are letting my coat slip! Do i have to tell you how much it costs?! If you dare let it touch the floor I’ll take the money out of your poor allowance to pay for a new one!” one of the misses glared at you, hitting you in the face with her closed paper fan, its gemstones leaving marks on you cheek.

“We might as well do it anyways, since her filthy hands have touched them already!” her sister laughed, grabbing your face in between her gloved fingers and digging her nails in your skin. “Don’t you think so, y/n? What? Cat got you tongue?” they giggled.

“Children, children!” the woman of the house hushed them with a sweet smile. “You shall never touch her!” she said, taking of the gloves out of her daughters hands to give her a new pair, with a sweet smile telling one of the servants of the castle to burn them. “God knows what she might infect us with!” she laughed, her offsprings following her.

God, you hated her. Her and her stupid daughters. With their stupid dresses and stupid painted faces.

You glared at them, your grip tightening around their belongings, holding your stare and your head up even when the woman stared back at you, her face scrunching in disgust and anger.

“Who do you think you are staring at?!?!” she suddenly yelled, catching the attention of those who enjoyed drinks and company around her, not waiting a mere second to rise her hand and slap you to ‘show you your place’. You took the hits, the metallic flavor of blood filling your mouth due to the continues smacks and hits with the back of her fan. “You filthy ungrateful bitch, you dare stare at us, who give you food and a bed?! I should’ve let you died out in the cold, in the dirt, where you belong to!” you gritted your teeth, your eyes down to the floor as your free hand made its way to your bottom lip, where you felt the skin split, the crimson of fresh blood tinting your frail skin.

“Fucking fussock*.” you cursed her under your breath, loud enough for her to perfectly hear you.

“What did you say?!” her free hand gripped your long and matted locks, making you look into her enraged eyes, her other hand rising up to hit you once again.

Your eyes closed as you expected a new slap, which surprisingly enough never came. The sound of multiple gasps filled your ears and when you opened up your eyes once again, your stomach sank at the sight of…

“Your highness!” everyone suddenly diverted their eyes to the floor, including you, your mistress and her daughters bowed in his presence, the wrist of the first of them all gracefully and softly held by the prince’s, who let her go with a kind smile.

“Is everything alright?” his voice tested the waters, his tone low and soft as the silk he dressed in, his hands jeweled in golden rings joining and intertwining in an elegance you never had witnessed.

“Yes, your highness.” the woman stuttered, showing a nervous smile. “Our slave just seemed to…, misbehave, your highness.” your eyes travelled trough his tall and magnificent demeanor. His fern green suit matched perfectly with the caramel of his skin and his brown and perfectly combed curls.

Your eyes quickly darted always as he had caught you staring once he had turned to you. He fought the lopsided smirk that urged to grow in his lips, stepping closer to where you stood.

He took a glance at the ragged clothes that hid your bruised and malnourished body, probably due to the family’s treatment under your care, your matted hair, cut up hands…

His warm touch spread on your skin as he took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, softly trying to rise your head up, but you denied him, in a harsh turn of head freeing yourself from his touch before giving him a glare.

A new wave of gasps filed the air as you stared right into his eyes, him holding your glare.

You didn’t care if he was a noble or pure royalty. Those ‘pure blood’ were all the goddamn same. With their leather shoes and gold jewelry, fancy words and silk dresses and suits. Their appearance was only a pretty facade that hid the ugliness of their insides.

You hated all of them. Might as well just get your head off as soon as possible.

“You slave! How is it ye dare to stare at the prince, soon king?!” a brunette and tall man talked, you recognized him as the pince’s right hand, but only with a wave of this hand, he stood silent beside the prince.

“Huh…” the smile he had been trying to fight off finally took place on his gracefully sculpted face and full rosy lips. “Interesting.” once again he took a soft grasp to your face, this time not letting you go even if you fought him off. His eyes took everything your face offered him, from your perfect nose to you long eyelashes and your beautiful fierce eyes, which stared at him with pure hatred and anger. “How much?” he suddenly asked, still not drifting his eyes away from you.

The woman stood frozen in place, just like her daughters.

“What does your highness mean with…-”

“How much would you want for her?” he cut her off, the deadly silent that fell on the salon almost giving you chills.

What was he saying?

“Your highness, I can’t…” she was short of breath and words. “I surely doubt thee would want her under your care, she…”

“I don’t care about any of it. Name a price.” everyone was shocked by the situation. Buying and selling slaves was something quite common, that’s how your current ‘family’ have got you, but this…

The prince? Has he gone nuts?

“Your highness, I don’t think…” the prince’s counselor stepped in, shutting up once again as soon as he gave him a glance.

“50 gold coins.” the woman suddenly blurted out, everyone’s jaws dropping at the audacity of the woman and such large figure.

“Mother!” her offsprings whispered-yelled. Not believing her words.

50 gold coins?!

You scoffed, smirking at such nonsense, not noticing the staring of the prince due to your reaction.

She wished you were worth that much. He would never…

“Make it 150.” he closed the deal.

“Your highness!” the counselor exclaimed, completely alarmed.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Gideon.” he hushed the man with his soft hazel eyes.

You watched as the woman who once abused you and starved you for days fainted due to the prince’s words and his daughters kneeling down to help her followed by some of the nearby guests, fanning her pale sleeping face.

You too felt like fainting.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweetheart.” the prince caught your attention once again, when your eyes met a smile growing on his lips. “All you need to do from now on keep your eyes on me.”

“Get off of me!” you screamed at the servants that tried and strip you out of your clothes, pushing their hands away. “I said stop!”

“Miss, they’re orders from your highness.” one of them spoke, her blue eyes soft on you. “He wanted us to help you bathe and and get rid of your dirty clothes.” she explained.

“I don’t care about what he said.” you scoffed. “If he wanted me undressed so fast why isn’t he the one taking my clothes off?” they all gasped at your words and no respect to the prince.

You didn’t care though, they were all the same anyways. Always reaks* that just wanted to have women swoon at their feet. Maybe that’s why he had bought you, just to use you when his cock got cold.

Suddenly, the door on your back opened, the heads of the servants quickly lowering as your eyes met the prince’s.

“Oh, fantastic…” you muttered. Just what you needed at the moment.

“You heard her, ladies. You are all dismissed.” he smiled at every and each one of them, bowing and moving aside with a swing of his arm on the door to let them out, all of them bowing and giggling.

And weren’t you just right?

“Great. And what do I have the honor of your highness’ presence for?” you sarcastically inquired him once he had closed the door behind his back, noticing…, ‘Gideon’ outside. “Got too excited due your new acquisition to just wait?” you mocked him.

“I heard you were putting up a fight.” he smiled, ignoring your words whilst looking at you up and down. “Is there something not to your liking, perhaps?”

“‘Not to my liking’?” you scoffed. “I can’t believe you.” you shook your head, grasping at your locks as you stared at him in disbelief. “How about this whole goddamn situation? I mean, look at this!” you pointed out everything that surrounded you, the whole bathroom with a gigantic bathtub of quartz, marble floors and pillars… “A few hours ago I was being used as a coat hanger in your ball and now I’m in a bathroom with the prince, who, surprisingly enough, bought me for 150 golden coins god knows why?!” you exclaimed.

He stared at you with a funny look in his eyes. His back against the door as his eyebrows raised at you.

“What.” you spit out, a glare in your eyes.

“Nothing, is just that…” he stepped closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t seem to…, respect me.” he frowned, his voice low. “Not like all of them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, your highness, for not being another dog licking your leather boots.” you bowed, more of his steps growing closer to you until his thumb took your chin, rising your head up so you could meet his eyes, his face stood serious for a couple of seconds, before a downside smirk grew on his factions. “Why haven’t you cut my head off yet?” you inquired him, not really understanding his behavior. By the way you treated him, any other prince would have already gotten you to the guillotine.

“Why shall I?” he answered with another question, his thumb caressing the wound on your bottom lip, the still fresh blood that stood on it staining his thumb as you hissed in pain, getting away.

You stared at him in confusion.

Yeah. He was absolutely nuts.

“The water will go cold if you don’t get in soon.” he said, drifting off the matter while whipping off your blood from his thumb with his handkerchief. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off those ragged clothes?”

“This is the only dress I’ve had, sir.” you said, his eyes meeting yours.

“What’s your favorite color?” you frowned at his sudden question, which made absolutely no sense. He made no sense. “Crimson, like the purest blood? The forest’s green? The ocean’s blue, perhaps?”

“I’ve never seen the forest nor the ocean, sir. I’ve never left the capital. Though I find the sky’s blue on spring pretty wonderful, not sure it does justice to the ocean’s.”

“It doesn’t.” he said, sitting in the edge of the bathtub, his fingers taunting the warm water. “The ocean is cold, and fierce…, untamable. But it can also be warm, and calm, and soft.” he tried to explain, and from your point of view it didn’t make sense.

It didn’t make sense but you found it…

“It must be beautiful.” you said, him flashing you a soft smile before nodding.

“It is.” he got up clapping his hands together before looking back at you. “Well then, you should really hurry up, the water is perfect.”

“I already told thee, this dress is the only-“

“You won’t need it anymore.” he cut you off.

“And why is that?” you inquired, his steps growing closer to you.

“Because from now on…” he said, catching one of your locks in between his fingers. “You belong in this castle.”

To be continued…

*fussock; a lazy fat woman…, a frowzy old woman.

*the ton; the ton actually refers to English high society during the Regency era, and encompasses every aristocrat from the royals to the gentry.

*rake; ‘rake’ is used to describe an immoral, hedonistic young man circulating in high society.

#spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!readr #criminal minds #spencer reid cm

[anothermansjeans]

youtuber!reader does the orange peel trend with spencer

YESSSSS (he would excel)

cw: food mention, fluff fluff FLUFF, spencer is the standard for ALL MEN

wc: 351

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

You set up your phone behind your water bottle, camera facing front as Spencer was in front of you doing dishes. There had been a trend on TikTok and you wanted to see how Spencer would react. Watching the way some people’s boyfriends reacted to the “orange peel trend” was actually horrific. Some men just didn't get it. You had faith in Spencer though, and you'd quickly be proven right.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yes?” He placed the last plate into the dishwasher before starting it up and leaning back against the sink.

“I’m craving fruit.”

“What kind?” His response was automatic, which caused you to smile, and with his words, he walked over to the fruit bowl on your opposite counter.

“An orange?” He gave a nod and grabbed the biggest one before walking over to you. “I actually don’t– wait what?” You watched as he pressed his thumb into the orange, peeling back the skin unprompted– unasked. “Spencer, no!”

He stopped in his tracks and looked up to your pouting face, “what? What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

“Yes! I mean, no, you didn't, ugh!” You turned your body in your high top chair to face the side he was walking towards, and reached over to grab his wrists (which were still holding the orange), pulling him between your legs. “I was supposed to give you hints that I didn't want to peel the orange so TikTok could see how long it would take.”

“But you never want to peel your oranges.” His brows were furrowed, and he had a point. He knows you better than you know yourself at this point.

Sighing again, you slumped your body forward, leaning your head against his chest, “you're right. You're always right, and I love you for it.”

You felt his chest reverberate with his laugh, and he kissed the top of your head. “Do you still want this orange?”

Sliding your head up, your chin was now resting on his chest. “Yes, please.” You both smiled at each other before sharing a kiss, and Spencer finished the peeling of your orange.

++

BONUS: some comments

@ user: THIS WAS SO CUTE WHAT

@ user1: WTF HE DIDNT EVEN NEED TO BE ASKED IM OVER IT

@ user2: how does it feel to win at life?

@ user3: spencer being the best boyfriend to ever exist… did you build him in a lab??

@ user4: you're living the life the one girl who’s boyfriend said “tough luck, buddy” to wishes she has 😭

@ user5: THAT SHOULD BE ME

@ user6: spencer passing the orange peel theory is the only thing that makes sense to me in life tbh

@ user7: this proves that if he wanted to, HE WOULD

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl @charismatic-writer @navs-bhat

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #youtuber!reader

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Hi , can you do one fic where Spencer and the reader who has to go under cover as a stripper and Spencer gets jealous when she gives the unsub a lap dance. Sorry if it's too much trouble

Purple Silk and Laces

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Warning: NOT SMUT (sorry to disappoint) sexual innuendos so we cool, I guess, but still MDNI!!! lap dance (duh) on the UnSub. curses. a pinch of mental feminine rage honestly lol. jealous!spencer (double duh). tell me if I missed anything because I didn't proofread! A/N: part of me had a cardiac arrest and died writing this because sflkjnwjkfbwrijgbf got me giggling and shit. I imagined season 7 Spencer. Anyway, I'm not sure if I depicted what anon imagined, but tell me your thoughts!

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

A flimsy curtain slides to reveal such a sight Spencer never dared imagine, not so much as letting it form in his head—not during work hours anyway.

Pink blush burst all over the skin on his face, neck, and ears. Very much thankful for the distance he's established, or so help his impulse—he just might jump and take you then and there.

Dainty fingers fasten the purple silk belt just above your waist, and the urge to replace your hands with his creates a fuzzy clot in his throat. Twenty-thousand words per minute turn into the shape of you. Each micromovement plucks in his line of sight. You're a prey, and he's a mighty lion—hungry and close to going berserk.

You have always been a beauty. A sight to behold. No doubt about that. In Spencer's mind, you're much more of a goddess than anything he's ever believed in. Something so out of reach yet accessible for him.

But at that moment, in the dressing room, in front of half of the BAU team, you're a lewd image killing him softly with the sake of public decency.

Spencer gulps the imaginary hairball that obstructs the breath from escaping his throat, clenching his fist to contain the blood rushing through his veins. He can't possibly let himself slip and ruin everything over his failure to keep his dick off his shoulders. Much less do something stupid in front of his team and, most importantly, in front of you.

He blinks and crashes down back to earth at the sound of Derek's playful, raunchy whistle. He glares at the hunky agent, gritting his teeth with silent indignance.

"Not trying to be rude, but," Derek starts as his eyes trail from your head to toe, "What's a guy like me got to do to get a chance with a lady like you?" His brows bounce on his forehead. A flirty smirk danced over his face.

With a cheeky smile and a hand reaching for his chin, you lean close to him—somehow both galvanizing and obscene in Spencer's point of view, neither a good feeling— "Kill me." Your lips drop upside down, shoving his face with your palm.

Derek recoils from the force of your hand. The fact that you are a federal agent trained to obliterate murderers comes back into his knowledge. "Least you got the role to a T—" He raises his hands defensively while he shuts his mouth under your dagger glare. He knows better than to try and get another rise out of you when you're already grumpy enough.

Emily coughs a laugh at the interaction as she helps you plug an earpiece inside your ear and tries her best not to cop a feel while she does her best to set up a small microphone between your left breast and an awful excuse of a bra.

Going undercover is nothing new to a seasoned profiler like you. Granted, you're second to the youngest member of the team next to Spencer, but you have your fair share of gut-wrenching trauma. This case is nothing compared to any of them.

Still, you wish it consisted of far more clothing than the patches of laces that barely covered the pout of your nipples and sheathed the crack of your ass. The silky 'robe' the ladies at the establishment called feels more like a slap of cheap toilet paper covering the little dignity you have left.

You make a pact that the UnSub better be down on his knees while you cuff his dirty ass. It certainly sparks your skin with rage, contrary to the blasting AC in the dressing room.

"We'll be on high alert. Remember, you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with." Hotch counsels by the door, standing like an ashamed tree stuck on the floor. He's got a guilty look on his face, and he's been keeping himself from glancing past below your neck.

You won't hold it against him, or Derek—or Spencer in the corner of the room as if you haven't noticed the way his face looks like he's been slapped into oblivion. Anyone who's got a cock (and even a cunt) wouldn't manage the sight of a woman closer to naked than clothed. If Emily was in your position, you don't doubt you'd be jaw-dropped, too.

A grimace adorns your lips, "I'm wearing the littlest lingerie I've ever seen in my entire life, Hotch. I think I'm way past feeling comfortable, don't you think?" You slump on the couch, slipping on the pair of terrifying heels one of the strippers lent you.

"Most likely, the UnSub is impotent, so he might ask you for more than a show and pay you for a lap dance..." The words die in Spencer's throat as your eyes catch his. He hates how the mere look from you makes him twitch on his seat, and he's roughly fifteen feet away—he thinks.

You trace your brows with your thumb and index finger, sighing. After a few moments of questioning the complexity of the case and your situation, you sigh again, louder this time.

"A lap dance wouldn't hurt. I mean, what could go wrong?" Everything. A wry laugh echoes past your lips. It's decided. This case is on top of the worst ones you encountered yet.

Spencer looks away in hopes that no one has noticed him gawking. He really shouldn't be feeling hot and heavy when you're about to show skin in front of a man who's killed five women in six days. Now's not the time.

Derek chuckles, though the undertone of worry and guilt hits the high pitch in your attentive ears. "If only the UnSub preferred abs, I would have taken your place." He's trying to lift up your mood, and you're grateful for it.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

The club lights blind you.

You trace your frame at the beat of the music, taking in the rhythm while keeping your eyes sharp with every move.

Five men already threw their savings at you, whistling and shouting crude comments about your body. You mentally salute all the women who take the job by choice—or circumstances. Because all you wanted to do was hurl your stomach out and shoot each one of those men, execution style.

Like a bright spotlight, your eyes land on one guy at the bar. Spencer. His jaw is tense, and his hold chokes the glass of Shirley Temple in his hand as he watches you with fixed eyes.

A surge of electricity flushes you with goosebumps like the time you stupidly accidentally poked your finger in your car's power outlet while driving. You've never felt so exposed to the way he's staring at you. With a thick gulp, you shift your eyes away from him.

Then, your line of sight falls on a suspicious figure, two drunk perverts away from the stage. You hook your leg and spin around the pole like you've been practicing the trick your entire life.

"My twelve o'clock, blue shirt," You state with your back behind the audience. You ignore the fact that everyone's got a nice view of your ass right now.

Hotch's voice echoes in your ear, "Alright, one of the ladies will replace you in one—"

Kiara, a sweet lady, taps your shoulder with a dramatic show. She runs her hand down your stomach, and the animalistic crowd goes rabidly wild.

"Be careful, please," She reminds you before she shoves you off the stage to steal the show.

In an instant, the man you suspect waits next to the stairs. You aren't sure when he started heading towards you, but he fits the profile like a glove.

He's definitely attractive. Not Spencer Reid attractive, but enough to understand why the victims fell for his charms. You feel giddy at the thought of the doctor but force yourself to focus on the task at hand.

"You danced so well," You fight all your senses from decking the dirty smile off his face and give him a sultry one of your own.

Pressing your body onto his, you play with his collar, "I can give you a better view for a good price." He nods, placing a callused hand on the soft of your back.

Just like the plan, you lead the UnSub to one of the arc leather seats, sitting him down by his thighs as you provocatively fall on your knees, then standing back up with your back resembling a bow.

Crescent temporary scars sting Spencer's palm. The sight is like a sucker punch for him. Your hips swaying, grinding on someone that's not him. The UnSub's hands tracing your figure.

He feels livid. Dizzy of murderous thoughts that an FBI agent should not have. But he does and can't wait to get the green light from Hotch.

Despite the sick feeling in your gut, you did your best to see the task through, making filthy conversation with the UnSub like it's a walk in the park.

"So, any man in your life?"

There it is.

A narcissistic, pitiful man cheated by his lover due to his impotence.

You hide a smirk. "Will you give me a hefty tip if I say yes?" He stays silent, so you flash a mischievous smile before turning back around to grind on his nonexistent bulge. Not like it changes the fact that you're grinding on a killer, but it gives you a tinge of relief.

"He's better off sleeping at night not knowing, and—" In the midst of the flashing lights and heavy crowd, your eyes meet Spencer's. A tickle flutters in your stomach. "It's not like he's any good of use. The guy can't get it up to save his life, which reminds me..." You turn back to face the UnSub, staring at the area of his crotch with an odious giggle, "Does your friend need a little help?'

The UnSub yanks your wrist—bruising. "Don't fucking laugh," He growls at you.

Bullseye.

Strike a nerve.

"Oh, please, don't blame me for your silly problem," You roll your eyes, getting a rise out of him. You hear Hotch instructing you to back away as the team slowly moves in, but you just can't let the anger and disgust go. "Just when I thought I got a hot one—"

Cold metal kisses your skin, and you remember that state you're in. Gunless and almost naked. You mentally curse.

He pins you down on his lap, hovering close to your ear. "One wrong move and I'll fuck you up. You understand?" His breath burns your skin.

The next motions happen so fast you don't get the chance to process the way Spencer almost flew to your spot and snatched you from the UnSub like you're a prize possession in his name.

Guns drawn.

UnSub cuffed.

Blood drools.

Your orientation momentarily comes back at the stinging feeling of disinfectant against the thin slice on your right waist. Then, suddenly, you're on your flight back to Virginia—with more coverage.

Sitting in what is supposed to be a breath of fresh air, the tension between you and Spencer is suffocating the least. He hasn't said anything to you since his random thought about the UnSub's impotence in the dressing room. You figure he's avoiding you, even.

A sigh passes your lips.

You and Spencer have been dating for a while now. It's not on the surface, and surprisingly, despite working with a herd of profilers, no one has sniffed you out yet.

The relationship is very new. A lot of things to figure out between the nature of your relationship, but never has he ignored you the way he's doing right now.

And when you twist the knob open to his apartment, Spencer's not waiting by the door like usual, rummaging through his shelves for a book to read.

You cross your arms against your chest, "Alright, Spence. What is wrong?"

"What do you mean?" He doesn't even look at you, making a show of tracing each book's spine as if he hasn't read them more than five times.

"Really? You're gonna do that to me, Spencer?"

"Do what?"

"You know what? Whatever. I'm too tired for this." When he doesn't say anything, you grab your purse and start heading for the door.

"Yeah, maybe you can lap dance your way back home."

A pause.

Blinking at his image, "What?" Your eyes widen—one of them twitching with fury.

It's not like Spencer to say such a stupid thing. You've had arguments, but he's never acted so stubbornly.

"You've got two seconds to convince me that I heard you wrong, or so help me—"

"Or what? Find another guy to flirt with? Call Morgan?" Spencer holds his fists with tight grips, gazing at you with a shot of insecurity you have never seen him express.

Oh.

The fury dissipates instantly, and a different kind of fire sparks as if he's suddenly under a different light. A good one. One that electrifies your entire body into an ecstatic wave.

"You're jealous."

A statement.

Loud and clear.

Spencer furrows his brows like you'd just said something scientifically impossible. "W-What?" He stutters, and the smirk on your lips only grows.

"You"—One step—"Are"—Another step—"Jealous."

You're three steps before him now, holding eye contact. "You're jealous and with an UnSub, to say the least." You tuck your lower lip between your teeth.

"What are you talking about?" He scoffs. Your stare overwhelms his senses, but he's not backing out yet.

"But you are," You bite back a grin, entertained by the way his body stiffens the closer you get.

Spencer shakes his head, an excuse to break eye contact. "No. That's impossible. I don't get jealous." The protrusion on his throat quivers.

You raise an eyebrow, "Okay, so, you don't mind if I take Derek's invitation to hang out tonight?" You reach inside your bag, fishing out your phone. "I think if I call him now he'd still be—"

He engulfs both your hand and phone with one hand, "Don't." Spencer gulps—the third one in two minutes. He lets out a heavy sigh when you grin at him, softening his grasp. "Fine, I was—am jealous." His cheeks glow red, widening your shit-eating grin.

Spencer turns his head away from you, but you're quick to hold his chin and make him face you back, pecking his lips—a redder face before you.

"It was part of the job, Spence. Believe me, I wanted to shoot him so bad." You reason gently, yet the buzzing between your thighs makes you swallow the thick emptiness in your throat.

He lowers your hands and off his skin, running his hands over his face. "I know!" Spencer groans, turning away from the embarrassment that's beginning to eat him. "I just—I hated that the UnSub gets to experience you like that. It pisses me off!"

Spencer's rambling now, throwing statistics and facts and how it somehow correlates to you.

Although you're busy yourself, plucking each button of your shirt through each slit. And when he spins back, his mouth shuts up—still agape.

He's speechless, eyes fixed on you.

Your shirt droops on your arms, revealing the same lacey cloth latched on your breasts.

Spencer blinks rapidly, unsure whether to breathe or completely deprive his lungs of air supply, "Y-you kept it?"

"Are you still feeling jealous?"

"A l-little, yeah..." You didn't miss his quick glance below your waist to the spot you're craving him the most. And you can hear the question that's running in his head.

With a soft giggle, you audibly answer, "Yes, I kept that too."

Spencer thinks he should be jealous more often as he swoops you off your feet and brings both of you to his bedroom.

#spencer reid #ssa spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencerreid #fem!reader #criminal minds #criminalminds #cm #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you

[g0dlyunsub]

hey! Idk if u take requests but I love your writing style and have a request! Can you do a Spencer x fem reader where she doesn't work for the Bau but they have been together for like 7 months and she is girly and like loves fashion and is superrr pretty and the team doesn't know about her but they see Spencer out with her one day and can't believe he's with her/has a gf bc they're so different and they tease him about her bc he's just head over heels in love with her and they are so obsessed with each other and it's just so cute!!! Thank you in advance!!!!🤍🤍

yes, i do take requests! thank you for the kind words, and i hope you enjoy this one <3

picture perfect.

you work shifts at a local coffee shop where a man frequents every friday evening. at first glance, the two of you are polar opposites; while you are covered in flowery pastel colors head to toe, he dresses strictly in professional attire. when love eventually blossoms between you and the doctor, he makes every effort to be with you – even when teased by his coworkers.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: none? some suggestive overtone.

word count :: 2.3k

author’s note :: this is probably the fluffiest text i’ve written by far, i swear i’m biting straight into cotton candy. fingers crossed that i’ve portrayed the story well…  accompanying song :: the perfect pair by beabadoobee

he doesn’t know how to deal with these unfamiliar feelings, especially when they’re eating away at his thoughts at work. his usual ability to read at 20,000 words per minute seems to be reduced to half its pace for almost seven days now, one of his worst nightmares in full action. he doesn’t know what to think when your bubbly face lights up in his head – when your pretty features accentuated by the glowy highlights around your eyes and the soft glassiness of your pink lips etch into his imagination. thoughts of you come to light like a switch in his head, and they pop up during the worst times, including a police chase on the highway, an interrogation with a female unsub that styled her hair similar to yours, and worst of all, whenever he tries to make coffee in the office. it’s almost a pavlovian response, the way he unconsciously gulps in tingling nervousness as he pours the sugar into his cup.

but he’s a man that thinks with his head, a man that doesn’t listen to his heart.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when you hand over his usual, dark espresso with three sugar packets on the side, with the words cheer up, doctor reid! <3 scribbled with winged hearts all around the cup, he has to excuse himself and run to the bathroom. there, he spends ten minutes clenching his shirt, squeezing the fabric with sheer strength because you and your actions are irresistibly adorable. he can’t look in the mirror, because he sees you standing right next to him in the reflection, and it drives him crazy.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when he enters the coffee shop on one friday afternoon with a cut near his left brow, you immediately stop what you’re doing and go over to his table before he can even settle down in his seat. you insist on covering the wound, and you pull out a pink flower-patterned bandaid from your apron pocket. he watches as your hands lightly tremble to remove the adhesive strips, and melts at how you brush his hair aside to press the bandaid lightly against his forehead. it only takes a whiff of your vanilla scent to lose all sense of time and his surroundings – he can only look up into your heavenly eyes, which blink slowly in the hazy lighting.

he’s a man that should think with his head. when he sees you wearing an outfit that isn’t your coffee shop apron for the first time, he stops dead in his tracks. 

it was late that friday, and it was well past his usual time to enter the shop, but he could never let a full week pass without surrounding himself in your jolly aura. 

as you prepare to close the blinds and flip the store sign, you see a familiar face press a hand to the other side of the front door. you immediately let him in, and he’s frantically apologizing for his tardiness. 

“it’s completely fine! i’ll get your regular going in just a second!” your bubbly laugh fades as you head back to the counter, and for the first time, he soaks in the emptiness of the shop’s usually chatter-filled environment. there’s only one overhead light turned on, and the scent of lavender drifts with a candle’s airy smoke. 

he’s fixated entirely on your outfit. you’re wearing a ruched top with pink laces and frills for straps, and paired with a pleated mini skirt with knee-length socks, you’re a beautiful sight to behold. when you catch him looking, you strike a small pose, one hand on your hip and an empty coffee cup on the other. you then burst into your soft giggles.

he can’t. he absolutely can’t.

his eyes are glued down to where his hands are clasped on the table. when you ask him if he’s had a rough day, he answers with a simple two-word response, sort of. you don’t question him further, and he’s thankful you don’t. 

if he believes in anything other than science, it’s aphrodite and her blessings to bestow your pluperfect presence before him. it’s as if cupid shot an arrow directly into his heart, or if a mage cast an irrevocable spell on him. he doesn’t want to imagine a life without you. 

and every night since then, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. he wonders if he could somehow ask garcia to search you up, but he knows he shouldn’t exploit his position to take his chances with you. at least his head doesn’t want to.

his heart tells him to take a chance. 

he decides to take the leap of faith.

he knows your favorite flower, clothing brand, and lip tint like the back of his palm. he recites the answers every morning, a secret rehearsal he conducts as he straightens his tie in front of the mirror. he makes a purchase from your favorite flower shop a few blocks away from your store, and sucks in a deep breath before flicking his watch so it rolls up his wrist. he gently presses on the door handle.

you’re busy as usual, preparing cups and plating desserts for each customer. the line moves forward with a rhythmic pace, and you greet each customer, regulars and first-timers alike, with the same smile. your eyes enlarge when your favorite customer stands in front of the cash register, and the sight of his face instantly transmits a sigh of relief from your lips. you look down at his hand, where you notice he’s holding your favorite flowers that are wrapped tightly in pink gift paper.

“ah, didn’t know you liked those too!” you lower your head to examine the flowers in their full glory, and spencer even brings them up to your nose so you can smell the sweet scent.

“they’re for you, actually.” he speaks matter-of-factly, but there’s a hint of excited overtone.

“you got these… for me? i- thank you so much! you didn’t have to!” you hurriedly accept the bouquet as he extends his hand over the counter, and set the flowers down on a neighboring table. you scurry over to the cake display and plop a slice of cake on a small plate, before handing his usual drink with extra sugar on the side. 

“all on the house!” your lips shape up into a beautiful crescent shape, and he finds himself fiddling his watch to resist looking you in the eye. he gives you a lopsided smile, and nervously grabs two forks from the counter before leaving you a ten dollar bill in your tip jar.

“i-if you’d like, you can come find me during your break. we can have the cake together… again, that’s only if you’d like,” his fingers jitter as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and before you can object, he’s making strides back to his seat.

when it’s break time, you find spencer in his usual corner, his cake left untouched.

“you shouldn’t have waited, really,” you grab a tall stool and set it so you’re sitting with your knees touching his. he looks up from his book, time and eternity by seiichi hatano. 

“this is your favorite dessert, isn’t it?” he moves the plate towards you so you can take the first bite. when you do, staring right into his eyes as your tastebuds hit the fork, he instinctively licks his lips. 

spencer tells you that he needs to get something off his chest.

“what is it?” you ask, and he points to your apron. loosen the knot behind your back, he tells you, and you do. you feel a note twisted in between the fabric, and you confusedly uncrumple the crinkled paper.

it reads, will you be my girlfriend? 

the dot of the ‘i’ in girlfriend is drawn in with a shaded heart, and you bite your lip back as the cute aggression kicks in.

you don’t even hesitate. you have so many questions about how the paper’s even got there in the first place, but you couldn’t care to ask. you’re fervently nodding at him, leaning in and giving him a tight embrace. he hadn’t expected you to react so quickly, so he hesitates for a brief second before wrapping his arms around you.

present day, and he walks with you side-by-side, your hand enclosed in his. you’re humming a soft tune and he’s looking at you with a wide grin on his face. he’s so lucky to have you, an absolute dream come true. he’s grateful for how he gets to spend every night with you, a significant advancement from once every week at the coffee shop.

speaking of the coffee shop, it’s been seven months since the two of you sat together in the quaint corner of the café, and since then, he’s utterly fallen for you. his eyes follow your every move, and he listens as you ramble about your favorite dress on sale at the large shopping mall a few blocks from the apartment. while he makes mental notes of all of your favorite items, the reality is he’s finding it to be an incredible struggle trying to focus on your words. his focus hones in on your exposed neck with a laced choker wrapped around. it’s such a fragile piece of fabric, weighted with a heart-shaped locker with his initials. his initials.

he gulps. he wants to stick a finger between the fabric and your neck, and he wonders what it’s like to have you wrapped around his finger, so intimately linked.

just as his thoughts intensify, a voice breaks out from across the street.

“reid!”

you squeeze spencer’s arm as a group of well-dressed people approach the two of you, waving while their mouths hang open in surprise.

“there’s no way i’m seeing you on a shopping spree right now!” a woman with straight jet-black hair grins, her thumb hooked on her belt loop as she leans to one side. a woman with blonde hair and red glasses sporting a colorful spotted dress shortly joins the union alongside another man, who exudes a mysteriously charismatic air with his bold sunglasses.

they acknowledge your presence each with a handshake and introduce themselves. 

“you never told me you were seeing someone,” morgan whistles, patting spencer on the shoulder.

spencer’s quiet during the entire exchange, and he mumbles quietly about how he’s busy helping you run errands.

“you guys moved in together yet?” the man continues to ask, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he smirks. you nod and gleefully say yes, to which spencer lets out a squeak. 

“oh would you look at that! our little spencer’s all grown now! my man,” morgan leans in for a side-hug, and spencer awkwardly bows his head down. his entire face is now red, his lips buried in the soft texture of his scarf. garcia and emily look at you and spencer with an awestruck expression.

“where’d you find such a beautiful woman?” emily points a finger at you while interrogating spencer, and while you’re sure she’s just being nice, you can feel the heat surfacing from your cheeks.

“shut up, emily,” your boyfriend puffs, and he quickly grabs your hand and shoves it in his pocket. he mouths, let’s go, but you’re too polite to leave a conversation that hasn’t formally ended.

“aww, is our hollywood genius shy?” morgan prods at spencer’s arm, while spencer brushes his hand off with an annoyed expression. meanwhile, the girls compliment your style and continue to shower you with questions, asking you where you were headed to and how you met spencer. 

“well, i’m glad to know you’re a beautiful person, inside and out. i sort of knew spencer was seeing someone, but i didn’t expect any of this. you’re the cutest woman i’ve ever encountered, and i’m sure spencer’s overjoyed to have someone like you,” garcia talks excitedly and grasps your hands in her palms.

“and i’m lucky to have met someone like him.” you smile sweetly, tilting your head to look at spencer. he’s looking at the ground as if it’s more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“take care of him for us, will you?” morgan winks at you.

“of course.”

“and remind him every day that he’s with the most beautiful person in the world.”

you feel a tug at your jacket, and you turn around. spencer’s face is lit up with a deep shade of pink, and you know he’s signaling that he wants to head home. you quickly turn to the group to tell them you have to go, and they nod understandingly. garcia offers a tight embrace and pouts as spencer practically pries you away from her.

when the two of you turn the corner, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure his coworkers are out of sight. he then encloses you in a tight embrace and kisses your forehead.

“i’m sorry about that sudden… encounter,” he speaks into your ear, and you feel your heart flutter. your eyes close momentarily, and when you open them, he’s peering down at you while his hand rubs up and down your arm.

“don’t be, i enjoyed talking to them,” you whisper back, staring into his steady gaze.

“i’m sorry for not telling them earlier, but i really meant to. i love you... so much.” he vocalizes the last five words with a breathy tone, and you freeze, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.

they’re words you wish could be assembled and framed on a wall, transformed into something tangible that captures the picture-perfect moment of his romantic confession.

“tell me that a hundred more times when we get home.” you give him a cheesy grin before you blush at the realization of your own words.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #mgg x reader

[rynwritesreid]

Feel so close| Spencer Reid

A/N: if anyone has any good ideas for angst or fluff, or wants to send some requests through. Please do. I obviously love all of your smut requests (i truly do) but I would also love some angst and fluff ones (heavy on the angst ones).

Summary: It’s yours and Spencer’s wedding night and you want to give him what he has always wanted.

Content: Fem!reader. Fluff. Smut. 18+ MDNI. Oral (r!receiving). Creampie. P in V. Slight dom/sub undertones. Breeding kink. Very fluff filled sex I won’t lie. Porn with a plot.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer was so close to living his dream life, and he could not be any happier. He had just seen his dream girl walk down the aisle to become Mrs Reid. And while he couldn’t be any happier, there was one thing, or really rather a few things, missing that would make his life perfect. 

As he watched the last of the guests fade away, he couldn’t wait to take you to your shared hotel room. He couldn’t stop staring at you, knowing that tonight was the beginning of your forever together. 

As you both entered the elegant suite, Spencer couldn’t get enough of how you looked in your wedding dress, but he also couldn’t wait to get it off you.

 His hands trembled with anticipation as he reached out to caress the delicate lace adorning your shoulder. The room was aglow with the soft light of a dozen candles, casting flickering shadows across your face. 

He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, savouring the sweetness of the moment. “I love you Mrs Reid.” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with love and adoration. You smiled back at him, feeling a rush of warmth and happiness in your chest.

“I love you more, Dr Reid.” You whispered back, your voice barely above a breath.

His heart swelled with joy at your words, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the luxurious four-poster bed adorned with rose petals. 

“You know there is only one thing right now that could make me even happier.” Spencer grinned mischievously as he lowered you onto the soft mattress, the petals fluttering around you like a fragrant snowfall. His eyes sparkled with desire as he leaned into whisper in your ear.

"What's that?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation, your heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

“If you were to become pregnant with my child.” Spencer gently confessed; his voice filled with hope. 

“I’m sure we can make that happen, Spencer.” You whispered back, a playful glint in your eyes. “I know you have always wanted to be a dad.”

Spencer's face lit up with pure happiness at your words, his heart overflowing with love for you. Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, letting all his emotions pour into the moment.

Spencer carefully started to undress you, his movements slow and reverent as if unwrapping a precious gift. The air was thick with desire and anticipation as he leaned in to kiss every inch of your exposed skin, worshipping you like a devoted lover.

“You are officially my pretty girl now.” Spencer murmured against your skin; his hand was placed on your stomach “I can’t wait to see carrying my child.” 

With a loving smile, you traced your fingers along his jawline, savouring the moment. “And I can’t wait to start a family with you, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world to have him by your side.

Once your dress had come completely off, Spencer couldn’t take his eyes of your white lingerie that hugged your curves in all the right places. Desire burned in his eyes as he slowly removed his own clothes, every movement deliberate and filled with longing.

In that moment, nothing else existed for Spencer except for you, the woman who held his heart in her hands. As he kissed you with a hunger that spoke of all the love and passion he felt.

Spencer slowly started kissing his way down your body, leaving no part of you neglected. His mouth was tender and passionate as he explored every inch, savouring each taste and touch. You laid there, feeling like the most desired woman in the world, your body responding to his every move.

His hands traced delicate patterns over your skin, sending ripples of desire through you. His lips then lingered at the base of your neck, and you could feel the heat from his breath. It was a gentle yet powerful affirmation of his deep love for you.

Your breathing became shallow and quick as Spencer continued his exploration, and you found yourself arching your back, inviting him closer. He seemed to sense your need and desire, and his own lustrous eyes betrayed the intensity of his own cravings.

When his lips finally reached the most intimate part of your body, a soft gasp escaped your lips. His touch was gentle yet so powerful in its ability to awaken you, and you knew that no one else could make you feel this way.

As his lips continued to lavish attention upon you, your entire body seemed to come alive with electricity, every nerve ending firing in response to his tender caresses.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and whispered, "Spencer, I need you inside me more than ever. I want to feel you, I want to feel you complete me." Your voice trembled with desire as you spoke.

Spencer looked into your eyes, his love for you a fiery catalyst. He positioned himself over you, the anticipation making his heart race with excitement. With a deep breath, he slowly entered you, the feeling of the warmth and tightness of your body around him, unparalleled.

He slowly began to move, his rhythm in perfect harmony with the pulse of your body, matching the rhythm of your breath as his love for you grew with every stroke.

Spencer once again placed his hand on your lower stomach, he knew realistically he couldn’t feel himself, but he cherished every moment, every sensation, every feeling of being deep within you. He kissed you gently, passionately, and whispered soft encouragement, "It won't be long before I can feel you carrying my child."

Your breaths became more ragged, you wanted nothing more than to make Spencer a dad, to let everyone know you belonged to him.  And so, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you, increasing the intensity of the moment.

Spencer's eyes locked with yours, the love and desire in them impossible to resist. He moved faster, his pace becoming more urgent, as he sought to fulfil your shared dream. Your bodies moved in perfect sync.

Every muscle in your body tightened in response to his touch, as your climax drew closer with each thrust, a primal urge to merge with him and create new life together overwhelmed you.

Spencer wasn’t far from his own release. His heart was pounding in his chest, and a sense of awe and gratitude washed over him as he felt himself getting closer.

With one final thrust, Spencer cried out your name, his pleasure mingling with the tenderness of the moment. His heart overflowed with love and gratitude. 

He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding in your ears. You held onto him, feeling the pulse of his heart against the warmth of your skin, and a bond stronger than any connection you'd ever known.

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#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid #sub reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

[pathologicalreid]

i've seen a tiktok about a man that wakes up five minutes before his alarm just to cuddle with his wife before going to work and i just know spencer would do that

five more minutes

spencer reid x fem!reader; fluff

w/c: 437

thank you for requesting! spencer reid's love language is touch!

You heard the chime in your dream before you recognized that the sound was emanating from the nightstand on your husband’s side of the bed. In a domestic routine, you felt familiar hands on your waist as he dragged you across the sheets of the bed until you could feel his body heat seep into your figure.

Not ready to be awake, you scrunched your eyes shut and buried your face in Spencer’s chest, hoping to block the orange light that had started pouring through the slats of your blinds.

Groaning, you relaxed into him, allowing your still-tired body to meld into his while he held you. “Good morning,” he murmured into your hair, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion, gentle enough to put you back to sleep.

“Mmm,” you mumbled into his chest, “morning.” You reached up and pulled yourself higher so that you could tuck your head in the crook of his neck. “You’re warm,” you told him, curling your body into his as if you could physically meld your bodies together.

Under the warmth of your down comforter, the two of you fell into your regular positions. You slung your leg over his, clinging to him in hopes that your five minutes wouldn’t go so quickly.

Four months ago, there had been a particularly gnarly bickering match – a result of sleep deprivation – about not having enough time together, and the realization that spending more time with one another was impracticable came to the forefront of both of your minds. It’s not like Spencer could simply change the demands of his job, nor did you want him to – you just missed him.

This was the solution that Spencer came up with, one alarm at six twenty-five and a second alarm at six thirty. That five-minute window was when you protected your peace, spending five minutes tangled up in the morning had solved the conflict between you.

Slowly, Spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, tightening his arms around your torso and littering careful kisses on your skin.

You sighed when the second alarm went off, prying yourself off of him and rolling over in the bed before hitting the alarm clock on your side of the bed – a prime location to prevent either of you from falling asleep again. “Are you getting up with me?” Spencer asked, leaning over, and kissing your bare shoulder.

Flopping back against your pillows, you glanced over at him, “I could be convinced,” you proposed.

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer considered his various options, “I’ll make you coffee,” your husband proffered.

“Sold.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #written by margot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x fem!reader #x reader #margot's requests

[godsfavdarling]

Do you want me to take care of you?

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

words: 1.3k

summary: Spencer and reader love some morning love.

warnings: handjob, soft!dom!gn!reader, soft!sub!spence, no use of y/n (tell me if I forgot something) praise kink? 🤭😝

a/n: i was feeling a bit inspired. maybe i'll come back to my spencelle fic soon but for now hope yall enjoy this!

You woke up to find Spencer nestled against you, his head resting on your chest as you both lay on your sides, facing each other. 

His messy curls tickled your face, and you could feel his steady breathing against your skin, the soft exhales warming you. Your leg was draped over his hip, drawing you two as close as possible.

He had returned late, long after you had drifted off to sleep. Despite your efforts to stay awake to greet him, exhaustion had won out.

Sometime during the night, you felt the mattress dip as he settled beside you, seeking comfort in your presence. Though you briefly stirred, sleep quickly reclaimed you, leaving you both to enjoy the peaceful intimacy of the moment.

He had been gone for over a week, and the lack of communication had made you miss him even more. Especially during the quiet moments of the night. Falling asleep and waking up next to him was your favorite part of the day, and now that it was happening again, it felt almost surreal.

You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his head as you savored his scent, careful not to disturb his slumber. It was his favorite shampoo, the same one you used. He had a habit of using your cosmetics, often remarking how they smelled like you and how comforting it was to him."

Suddenly, he shifted slightly, and you felt it—him, pressed against you, his hard length stirring an immediate arousal within you. 

There was an undeniable allure to morning intimacy, especially with Spencer. It seemed almost routine that he would wake up already excited, and you found it exhilarating.

Part of you couldn't help but hope that you were the cause of his arousal. While he may have just been the type of guy to experience morning wood, you preferred to believe it was your presence beside him that elicited such a response. 

Sleeping next to you seemed to consistently awaken him with desire, a notion that thrilled you. Initially, when you first started dating, he had been embarrassed and tried to conceal it from you. However, it didn't take long for you to reassure him that you had no issue with it. In fact, you welcomed morning intimacy eagerly, willing to sacrifice a few extra minutes of sleep if it meant indulging in each other's desires."

And now, you found yourself in the place you loved most: cuddled up to your boyfriend on a peaceful morning. His hard cock pressed into you.

You began to stroke his hair with a bit more bravery, aiming to gently rouse him from his slumber.

"Spence...? Baby..." you murmured, your voice soft against the morning quiet.

"Mhm...." he responded, shutting his eyes tighter as he hugged you closer.

"Are you waking up?" you whispered into his tousled hair, your fingers trailing gently along his scalp.

"Mhm..." he replied, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You traced soothing circles on his back with your other hand, allowing him to gradually emerge from his dreams. After a while, you started to slowly grind against him, earning a soft whimper that escaped his lips, betraying his arousal.

Pressing a tender kiss to his forehead, you teased, "Someone's excited?"

"Mhm..." he murmured again, his desire evident in his response.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin.

"Mhm..."

"Yeah? I need words, Spence..." you teased playfully, seeking verbal confirmation.

"Please," he finally managed to articulate, his voice tinged with need.

"Okay," you chuckled softly, feeling a surge of affection for him as you reached your hand between your bodies, gently caressing the skin above his boxers.

"Mhm... please," he pleaded once more, his eagerness evident in his tone.

"Someone's needy, huh?" you teased, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Since you hadn't seen him or felt him in too long, you decided to forgo the teasing and get down to business. He deserved to have everything he wanted, to feel everything he wanted. No more teasing or playing around for now.

You dipped your hand under the waistband, firmly grasping his hard cock, eliciting a breathy exclamation from him.

"Oh god," he gasped, his voice muffled against your chest.

"That feels good?" you inquired softly, seeking confirmation.

"Very good," he murmured in response, his breath warm against your skin.

As you continued to stroke him, you reached for his hair, gently playing and pulling, adding another layer of sensation to the intimate moment.

Placing tender kisses on his forehead, you felt your hips instinctively beginning to move, responding to the rhythm of your shared desire. 

It was irresistible, especially with Spencer softly moaning and whimpering against your hot skin, his lips brushing against you, and the warm breath escaping his lungs tickling your skin, intensifying the intimacy of the moment.

His velvet skin felt like a dream, large, hot, tip leaking profusely, your hand slid easily. With your fingers tracing along the veins and around the pink head, Spencer's hand slid around your back, pulling you closer.

"Spencer, honey, you're holding me too tightly. I'm trying to make you feel good," you gently reminded him.

"Sorry," he whispered, loosening his grip.

"It's okay," you assured him, continuing to massage the swollen, taut flesh as Spencer trembled beneath your touch.

You reveled in the feel of his length in your hand, delicate yet powerful. "You're doing so well, my pretty boy," you encouraged him softly, watching as his lips parted, barely glistening with saliva, and his whimpering grew louder.

Starting with your thumb against his slit, you applied pressure, eliciting a moan from his lips, before moving to the pre-cum pooling on the tip. Smearing it along the bottom vein, you used it as a guide as your hand began to move up and down, utilizing the small amount of lubrication present.

His nose scrunched as you picked up the pace, his body responding eagerly to your touch. You twisted your hand, using your nails to tease the head of his manhood, causing him to tense uncontrollably.

"Look at you, Spence. You want it so bad it hurts?" you teased, your tongue between your teeth.

"Please..." he pleaded, his eyes shut tightly as your hand continued its relentless motion.

His head turned to nuzzle into the pillow, his moans muffled as he neared his peak.

"Come on, baby, finish for me," you urged, and Spencer complied, his loud groans filling the room as his release coated your hand, warm and sticky.

He went limp against you, his hands bringing you closer as if he couldn't bear to be apart from you. You softened, stroking his hair with your free hand after helping him come down from his high.

"That's it. You did so well," you praised him, giving him a few more gentle pumps before kissing him tenderly on the lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice still trembling with the remnants of pleasure.

"You're welcome," you replied, your tone tender and filled with affection as you looked into his eyes.

"I love you," he confessed, his gaze filled with adoration as he searched your face for reassurance, sweat glistening on his forehead and his curls tousled from the intensity of the moment.

"I love you too," you responded, your heart swelling with warmth at his words, feeling the depth of your love in every syllable.

"Let me take care of you now," Spencer murmured softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he shifted his focus to you. He was ready to reciprocate the love and attention you had just bestowed upon him.

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x male reader #gn reader #spencer reid x gn reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfics #mgg smut #reid #soft dom reader #sub spencer reid #dom reader

[golden1u5t]

change of plans | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: the arrangement you had with spencer, friends with benefits, quickly changes to more than that when he sees a cop flirting with you on the job.

that officer was standing to close to you for spencer's comfort, he watched you two from across the room laughing and smiling but he couldn't quite hear what was being said that had you laughing and smiling so hard. he turned back to the board to continue working on the geographical profile, which you were supposed to be helping him with. he couldn't help but look over his shoulder at you, though.

the breaking point for him was when the officer put his hand on your arm and leaned in so he could whisper in your ear. spencer dropped the pen and calmly walked over to you, he cleared his throat to grab your attention.

"can i speak to you?" he crossed his arms, his eyes never left yours. the officer looked spencer up and down before dismissing him by saying that you were in the middle of a conversation, as if spencer didn't already know that. "aren't you supposed to be doing patrols?"

"come on, spence. it was nice meeting you!" you gave the officer a smile before grasping onto spencer's arm and pulling him to a empty office. you closed the door behind you and pulled the shades. "what was that?"

spencer shrugged his shoulders and sat on the edge of the desk that sat in the corner of the room. you stared at him in disbelief before walking closer to him.

"you have to stop doing that! we-" you paused and gestured to the both of you. "we are not together, you cannot scare away every guy that show's interest in me."

"why not?" he stood up and placed his hands on your waist, you shook your head and wrapped your hands around his wrist. spencer pulled you into him and leaned down to press his lips to the shell of your ear. his hands moved down to the curve of your ass and his lips moved down your neck. spencer moved his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up, he sat you down on the desk.

"we are at work." you huffed and pushed your hand in his hair, your fingers curling in his hair. spencer chose not to acknowledge your words, instead he started working on unbuttoning your jeans.

you huffed out his name but made no efforts to stop his advancements, if anything you just spread your legs further to invite him in. spencer chuckled and moved his head to kiss you, he shoved his hand down your jeans and into your panties.

he didn't waste any time with trailing his finger through your slit and circling your clit. you broke away from the kiss and hunched forward, placing your head on spencer's shoulder.

"this is unprofessional." you panted. spencer hummed and abruptly slid two fingers inside your cunt without warning, making you cry out against his shoulder.

your hips rocked into his hand, your throbbing clit hitting the palm of his hand with each movement he made. your mouth fell open against his shoulder in a whine. just as your walls started to clench around his fingers, spencer pulled his fingers out and took a step back. your head snapped up and you reached for him but he stepped out of your reach.

"what the hell, spence?" your eyebrows furrowed but all spencer did was shrug his shoulders. he placed his fingers in his mouth and headed for the door.

"tell that officer to back off, you're taken."

#golden1u5t #myrarants #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

[reiderwriter]

Puppet On A String

Chapter One of I Can't Help Myself

Synopsis: Expecting your big promotion any day, you're none too happy to hear about the departments miraculous new hire. You're even less happy when he moves into your office and starts touching things.

Warnings: Shitty office politics, brief allusions to Spencer's time in prison, swearing, reader is understandably bitter.

Masterlist || 5k Celebration Challenge

The day your professional aspirations came to a crashing halt was also the day that you met Doctor Spencer Reid. To say that your view of him was somewhat soured by the unpleasant circumstances of your morning meeting was an understatement and a half.

Sitting in your bosses stuffy work office, you felt your heart stop as the situation was explained.

“You understand, right, Y/N? We really value your work here, so we're really relying on you to help him settle in.” He grinned at you from behind his desk, but all friendliness in the gesture was dampened by the fact that he hadn't even bothered to look up from the papers he was looking through, glasses hanging low on his nose.

“I'm trying to understand, I am. But last week, we discussed me moving onto the tenure track. Are you saying that's out of the picture for me now?”

The smile turned into a grimace as he looked up at you, finally. He removed his glasses and folded them in front of him as you squirmed in your seat. You needed to advocate for yourself, but it wasn't easy when it felt like you were in the principals office being reprimanded.

“Doctor Spencer Reid will be joining us on loan from the FBI. Someone at the Bureau called in a favour with one of the college executives. The decision is above my pay grade - thus it is above yours.”

Your cheeks felt hot as he reprimanded you, and you bit your tongue as best you could.

“He will be with us for the semester, and then we can discuss your promotion again next semester. I will ask again, you understand the situation?”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken - the department wide email introducing your new member of staff and the generous donation from the FBI that came with him. You brought nothing to the department other than a stellar academic record and hard work.

“I'm glad we could both come to an understanding,” he said, aptly dismissing you as you stood to take your leave.

“Ah, one last thing, Y/N,” he said, stopping you in your tracks as you readied yourself to run to the nearest bathroom stall and cry until your first class - roughly 7 and a half minutes.

“Doctor Reid will be sharing your temporary office space. We're strapped for space, and there weren't any other facilities available at the last minute. Since your students always remark on how approachable and welcoming you are, you're the best person to show him around, too.”

The gloom in your heart hardened to anger as the man dismissed you, returning his glasses to his head and not bothering to make eye contact as he added more work to your already heavy load.

“Of course. Thank you.”

You closed the door behind you, willing yourself to not slam it, and stalked down the corridor to your own - now communal - office.

Half of your brain was screaming at you to quit, but with rent in a college town to pay, and the academic year already in session, there was no way you were finding something this lucrative again.

You'd worked your ass off for the last five months. You just had to survive three more with Doctor Spencer Reid.

You had to keep your emotions in control until at least your office, you thought, even as the inescapable tears threatened to fall down your face. You hate that you cried when you were angry, that your emotions couldn't even sort themselves out enough to give appropriate physical responses, but at least you could angry-cry in peace before your new coworker showed up.

You ripped open the door and stomped to your desk, slamming the door shut behind you as you fell down with your head in your hands and let out a frustrated groan.

“Um… hello, can I help you?”

The voice caught you so off guard, you almost jumped from your seat in shock, backing up to the single window in the office.

“Fuck, you scared the hell out of me. What- who are you?” You asked the man you now saw sitting at the sofa opposite your desk, next the door. So close in fact, that you didn't see him walking in.

He was sat down, but you could tell he was tall, slightly older than you, but with big brown eyes that betrayed some experience. He sat comfortably at first, legs crossed, book in hand, but as you spoke, he sat straighter, stiffer, his relaxed expression becoming somewhat colder.

“I'm Doctor Spencer Reid. I was told this is my office from today onwards? If I'm incorrect, I can leave you to your…”

Of course, the very attractive, soft-spoken man in front of you just happened to be the derailment of your career. Temporary, you reminded yourself. Temporary derailment.

“No. Doctor Reid, of course. Hello. I'm Y/N. We'll be sharing the office for the semester, I just didn't know you'd be here today.”

He frowned slightly, like sharing the space was as uncomfortable with him as it was with you.

“If you can excuse me, I have a class to teach in…” You looked to the shelves where your small clock had fallen over once again - the office was cramped and the shelves unstable enough that closing the door meant knocking at least three things over.

“Three minutes, shit. I have to leave, please keep to yourself, I have a lot of important documents in here.”

The words were colder than you would've liked, but you couldn't find the strength to care much about his opinion of you.

You grabbed your laptop and left the room swiftly, abandoning Spencer Reid to your shared office.

Your first meeting may have been sour due to circumstance, but your second was unpleasant on the strength of Spencer Reid's grating personality alone.

In your five months at the college, you'd worked up a system for classwork.

Gather books. Go to class. Pick up coffee. Teach. Leave class. Pick up a second coffee. Go to your office. Host office hours. Work on a research paper. Rinse and repeat for any other classes you had that day.

With such a busy and caffeine fuelled schedule, you kept your office as neat as you could with your rickety shelves.

So, returning to meet Spencer Reid a second time, you almost threw up at the sight that befell you in the office.

“Hey, welcome back.”

The man sat on the one inch of your floor that wasn't taken up by furniture with all of the books in the office stacked up around him, the shelves bare and tipping precariously to one side.

“What the hell did you do to my office?” You blanched, looking around, unable to see the set of books you had organized for your next class.

“The shelves are broken, I put in a request to have them replaced, and I've been organizing the books by topic so-”

“The books were already organized. By class, and week they're to be taught. Fuck, I have a seminar in 30 minutes, I need those books.”

To his credit, Spencer Reid looked panicked as he sat sifting through all the books, even as your anger rolled off of you in waves.

“I can fix this. What shelf was it on?”

“Don't bother, just ruin my day some more. Hey, how about next time, you just throw everything in the trash?”

“I was trying to help, we're going to be sharing the office, and there isn't exactly space for two desks with your current filing system.”

“So you decided to rearrange without telling me? Asking me? I've been here five months, but you strolled in five hours ago and decided to change everything to suit you.”

“That's not - look, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you can start your apology by footing the bill for whatever improvements you've made. We're not tenured professors. Anything we add to the room or request comes out of our paycheck, and I'm not starving myself for floor to ceiling bookshelves.”

Whatever retort he was about to make was lost as you grabbed your bag from the floor and stormed out, leaving him behind in your dilapidated office.

When you returned to your office later that day, he was nowhere to be found. His new furniture, however, was crowding the room. A clone of your own desk was pushed up against the side of it, the pair forming an L shape. Great. Couldn't have gotten any closer if you tried.

Your couch was still in place by the door, but the old bookshelves were gone. They were replaced by a sturdier looking wooden set that now shelved all the books you'd inherited in the office or were using for class. And some new titles.

He hadn't put them back in the order you needed them in, though you doubted he ever would, but instead had them grouped by topic and within groupings in alphabetical order.

“How very precise,” you said, running your fingers along the book spines as you made your way to your desk.

“Whoops,” you said, pulling out a book you knew wasn't yours and letting it fall to the floor.

Was it petty? Sure. Was it therapeutic?Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Nice. Mature,” a voice said behind you, and for the second time in 12 hours, you jumped at the sound of Spencer Reid's voice.

“Jesus Christ, you need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what, walking into my own office?” He said, leaning against the new bookshelves.

“Our office. Shared. For three months.”

“Oh so you do remember we have to coexist?” He asked, grinning down at you. When did he get so close that he had to look down at you?

“Trust me, your presence is…felt,” you said, gesturing around the cramped space.

“What classes are you teaching?” You sighed, pushing past him to the open door and sitting down at the sofa.

“Profiling and the Criminal Psyche and I'm guest lecturing in Criminology 101. I have a few special lectures on geographical profiles in the next month.”

“And office hours?”

“What?”

“Your office hours, you're going to need to post them soon. Mine are Mondays and Thursdays at 11am, you'll need to be out of the office then so I can consult with the students about any absences or grades. If you haven't decided on your hours yet, my schedule is taped in the first draw of my desk.”

You grabbed your jacket from the hook on the door and pulled it over you like a blanket, laying yourself down on the sofa.

“Why would I need your-”

“Do us both a favour and schedule your hours during my contracted teaching time. It'll be easier.”

“Then why don't you schedule yourself during mine?”

You scoffed as you pulled a couch cushion up to rest your head on, closing your eyes as you drowned him out.

“Gee, you're some kind of genius. Can't you figure that one out yourself?”

You heard his sight of frustration but plugged in your headphones anyway, enjoying your 20-minute power nap as you stubbornly refused to face the day's stress.

A week later, you were deep into a College Cold War.

Spencer had attempted what you'd thought was a truce on his second day, arranging the pile of books you needed for that week's seminars on his desk happily.

Until you went to grab the top of the stack, and his hand held yours down on top of it.

“Sorry, that's for my class,” he said, glancing up at you. He smiled as he noticed the irritation in your eyes as you ground your teeth together.

“I'm teaching a class today based on this text. It was an assigned reading-”

“What a coincidence. It's an assigned reading in my class as well. For all 46 students. You better run over to the library, Y/N.”

You dragged your hand out from under his, brushing off the heat that ran up your arm from his hand as disgust rather than attraction.

His existence was irritating, but his face and body were more distracting than anything.

Storming off, you knew you had to one up him somehow, but you wanted to put some thought into it before doing something impulsive. Your first thought had been slashing his tires, so some perspective was definitely needed.

A week passed, and you found yourself having to endure the man's company on a Friday night for a departmental welcome meal. You'd assumed a week ago when it was scheduled into your outlook calendar that it would be to celebrate your promotion, and now the egg was most definitely on your face.

You'd debated not even turning up, but a warning email had let you know that attendance was compulsory, and the dress code was semi-formal.

So, you begrudgingly forced yourself into the little black dress you'd purchased a lifetime ago for your first graduation and got yourself a taxi over to whatever ridiculously expensive restaurant you have to fast at this time.

“Y/N, you’re here. We weren't sure you'd show up, after… you know!” One of the older professors said as you walked in, pressing an air kiss to either cheek as she handed you a champagne flute.

“Well, attendance was compulsory, so here I am!” You wanted to wipe the pompous smile off the woman's face so badly, but unfortunately, she was a member of the hiring committee. Three more months of sucking up to her was in your future, courtesy of a shitty move by the FBI.

“You say that, but our guest of honor isn't even here yet. Typical, right?”

You downed the drink she gave you and excused yourself to take your seat at the dinner table, needing a place to rest your glass to save yourself from cracking it in your furious grip.

It took another hour for Spencer Reid to show his face, and to your glee, he looked genuinely uncomfortable at the prospect of the night ahead.

“Sorry, I was unpacking some stuff at my apartment.”

“Oh, did you move recently?” A curious voice trailed up the table to ask him as he awkwardly side stepped to his seat. Right beside you, obviously.

“No, just… I had some stuff packed up.”

He held his tongue, not revealing more as the table fell in an awkward silence.

You dragged another glass to your lips and sat back in your chair, doing your best to stay unaddressed as the appetizers finally came out.

“Does the department have dinners often?” Spencer whispered, his hot breath fanning against your neck as he leaned closer to you.

The hot feeling washed over you again as you turned towards him, immediately pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you.

“No. Usually, it is only when welcoming guest lecturers or when someone gains tenure.”

“So who got tenure?”

You scoffed. “Funny. Thanks, Spencer.”

“What?”

You looked back at him again, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

“This meal is to introduce you. Everyone else here has tenure.”

“You don't.”

“Yes, well, there wasn't exactly room in the budget for the hotshot FBI profiler and a steady income for another Professor.” You slammed your glass down again and picked up your bag and things, hoping the table hadn't heard your conversation.

“Please excuse me.” You said smiling at the rest of the table. Some of the women sent you sympathetic glances, but the department dinosaurs simply continued their conversations. You'd think a department of psychologists would be able to figure out they were all absolute narcissists.

You carefully exited the group and took yourself outside for some much needed air.

“Y/N.” He shouted from behind you again, and you had to be honest, you were sick of him following and sneaking up on you.

“God, what now, Spencer? Go back inside and get celebrated or whatever. They probably can't start the self-congratulatory circle jerk without you anyway.”

“I came to apologize. Again. But you don't seem to be able to handle the words ‘I'm sorry,’ at all, do you?”

He looked exasperated, but however he was feeling, you felt worse.

“Look, Spencer. I probably have nothing against you personally. But I've just been conned into another three months of probationary minimum wage because your boss at the Bureau decided he wanted rid of you for a month or two. Some of us didn't get child genius scholarships for multiple PhDs and aren't receiving two paychecks right now.”

“If money is an issue, Y/N, you know I could-”

“No. No, stop butting into my personal problems. We can be civil, but we're not… we're not friends, Spencer.”

You stepped back and let out another sigh as you forced the words to stand between you.

“Okay. I'll stay out of your way.”

“Great. Looking forward to it.”

“Sure. Me too.”

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[bellasprettywords]

Parallel Parking (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: When Olivia Rodrigo said "I can't even parallel park" lives were changed. I saw this really cute video and I couldn't help myself

y/n – your name

Warnings: Use of the word "shit", and I can't parallel park, so this would be a dream scenario for me

Word count: 940

My Masterlist

Part of your daily routine included getting to work at least with 20 minutes of anticipation in order to find a good parking space; but today your alarm didn’t go off on time, your heater broke down, and you were completely out of bagels and cereal, so naturally, your morning wasn’t going great, and you were afraid you’d come into work late.

The clock on the dashboard of your car signaled 7:50 am as you were pulling up to the parking lot, which meant you were still on time for work, but definitely the good parking spots were going to be taken.

“Shit, shit shit” you muttered under your breath as you were finishing your third lap through the parking lot, when suddenly, you heard someone call your name. You turned your head and you could see Doctor Spencer Reid waving his arm up as if he was calling you. Shit you knew Spencer because you were coworkers at the BAU, but you couldn't say you were friends, merely acquaintances, as you’ve joined the team while he was away in prison and the times you’d spent together were awkward, but polite to say the least. You slowly drove towards the Doctor, who now seemed a little exasperated, as instead of turning the car around, you decided to give another lap through the parking lot.

“Good morning Doctor Reid” you said rolling down your window with a smile that was trying to cover up the fact that you were starving, he made you nervous and if you couldn’t park in the next five minutes, you’d be late for the briefing

“Is it really a good morning? You’ve been driving through this parking lot for at least 10 minutes” he said looking impatiently at the watch resting on his wrist

“I… I… It has been kind of a rough morning, but everything’s fine, I’ll be up there for the briefing in a couple of minutes” you said trying to sound confident even when you were almost certain you’d have to find parking somewhere outside the FBI Academy

“Just park over there, and let’s go” Spencer said pointing to a free parking space where you’d have to parallel park

“Oh… sure… just…” you stuttered unable to find the words to properly communicate that you couldn't parallel park, without sounding like a child

“What is it? You don’t know how to parallel park?” Spencer said furrowing his brow and with a small smile beginning to form at his lips

“I just… I never really do it” you said, feeling your cheeks warming up and gaining a reddish color as his lips curled into a cute smile

“Alright, step out, I’ll park it for you” Spencer said opening the driver’s door and offering you his hand to step out of the car

“No no, no way Doctor Reid” you said completely embarrassed at the situation, and feeling the red from your cheeks spread through your whole face

“Just take my hand, I’ll park it for now, and later we can come down, and I’ll show you how to do it” he said with a sweet smile that made your stomach flutter. You took his hand and he helped you out with a swift movement; you walked to the sidewalk and watched as Spencer parked your car with ease.

Sure, you weren’t really friends, or knew each other a lot, but he definitely was cute to look at. Your mind started to wander; you couldn’t peel your eyes off of him as he placed his arm over the passenger’s seat to get a better look at the parking spot he was going to occupy; you stared at him, carefully examining the way his hands gently held the steering wheel, almost as careful as he held your hand; the way his profile looked almost angelical with his long curls framing his face and the soft beard that covered his jaw… Spencer got out of the car and walked towards you, with your eyes were glued to his figure, taking in every detail in hopes of keeping it safe in your mind. Your brain was a mush, when suddenly your train of thought was interrupted by your stomach growling

“Next time you stare, try to keep your mouth closed” Spencer said jokingly as he handed you your car keys

“I… I wasn’t” you stuttered when it happened again, once more and as if this whole situation wasn’t embarrassing enough, your stomach growled again, this time louder. This time, you were ready for the earth to open under your feet and just crawl into it

“Here, take this; it may not be breakfast, but it’s something” Spencer said handing you a white paper bag he retrieved from his messenger bag

“Oh, no, thank you, Doctor Reid, but I’m alright” you lied low-key praying that your stomach wouldn’t give away how hungry you were

“Please, take it y/n, and please, just call me Spencer, I’m not that old, you know?” he insisted, this time offering you a warm, reassuring smile, and you couldn’t help but chuckle

“Thank you… for everything” you said shyly as the two of you walked together towards the building

“Don’t thank me just yet, I still have to teach you how to parallel park” Spencer said, opening the door for you

“Oh, so you were serious?” you asked a little surprised, mostly because you thought he was joking when he said he’d teach you

“Of course I’m serious! You can’t keep arriving into the office freakishly early just because you can’t park” he added laughing as the two of you made your way into the elevator

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[hereforhalstead]

Family.

*not proof read*

Spencer Reid x reader

*****

Spencer approached the door, footsteps as soft as he could possibly make them as to not wake the child currently asleep in your arms.

He took a moment, leaning against the doorframe to admire your silhouette in the dark room.

Jack had his head buried into your neck, legs dangling either side of your hips as you rocked back in forth in hopes of soothing him to sleep before Aaron came to collect him.

You had offered to take care of Jack when Aaron got called in to a meeting, last minute and extremely late at night of course.

This meant you were both left with a very overtired boy and little parenting experience on how to cope.

Somehow you’d managed it.

With relentless pacing around the apartment and constant humming of lullabies, you felt him slowly doze into a slumber on your side.

Spencer watched in awe, it all came so natural to you.

He almost didn’t want to interrupt but his instincts of wanting to hold you took over as his strides towards you began before he could even register what he was doing.

‘He good?’ He whispered, pressing his lips to your temple as you nodded ‘he’s good’

‘You good?’ He questioned, smile playing on his lips as you again nodded ‘im good’

You both stood there for a moment, you still gently rocking back and forth. Hand resting on jacks head to keep him in place, with the other grazing your fingernails up and down Spencer’s arm. Almost soothing yourself whilst doing so.

You leant into the feeling of Spencer rubbing soft circles into the small of your back, somewhat relieving the ache that had started to creep in from standing for so long.

Lovingly, he placed his fingers around your chin to look up at him, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. Feeling the smile form as he did so.

‘You kn-‘ he started to confess before there was a knock at the door.

You pulled yourself away to be pulled back ever so slightly with his arm wrapped around your waist. Allowing himself to steal one more kiss as you smirked “spence, you gotta let me get the door”

He extended his arm sarcastically, leading the way for you to open the door to a very disheveled Aaron standing in the doorway.

‘Is he asleep?’ He whispered, you nodded, carefully handing Jack over.

‘About 20 minutes ago’

His face was full of relief, the last thing he wanted after such a long day was to be met with a child refusing to sleep.

‘You’re a miracle worker’ he chuckled, tone still low as Spencer handed him the bag he had left

‘she’s a keeper’ he gestured to you, feeling Spencer’s hand drop to your hip. A light grasp in agreement as he nodded, smile spreading across his lips as he gazed down at you

‘believe me, I’m aware’

Aaron made his way back down the corridor, you waited by the door until you heard the lift ding.

He waved as best he could before stepping in, signalling for you to go back to the apartment.

As the door closed behind you, you leant against it. Your back now feeling as though it was of an 80 year olds and your feet throbbing like you’d just completed a marathon.

‘I’m not made for this’ you joked, resting your hands on your knees in a slump

‘Look at me’ Spencer beckoned, straightening up to see him stood almost between your legs. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

His hand cupped your chin, the rough pad of his thumb running back and forth along your jawline. His eyes scanned over your face, his eyes were soft as he pressed a kiss to your cheek

‘I want to have a baby with you’

He remained close, his hands intertwining at your back, pulling you into him and away from the door.

‘Spence’ you warned, knowing how desperately he wanted and suited being a dad but how you’d approached the subject before and decided for the time being, with both of your jobs being so intense, the timing wasn’t right.

He peppered kisses over your face, your forehead, the corner of your mouth, your nose as he continued to talk

‘I’m serious Y/N’ another kiss was left on your lips, lingering slightly as he held your head in his hands

‘I want to start a family with you’

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