Tumgik
#reider
futuremrsreid · 11 months
Text
Watching (S.R)
Tumblr media
Summary: Spencer sleeps over at y/n's place and hears something he isn't supposed to.
Content Warnings: 18+, SMUT, downright filthy smut, voyeurism, dubious consent, humiliation, basically reader is wanking and spencer watches without her knowing
Authors Note: I am obsessed with writing morally wrong fics, but I guess this isn't for everyone so please read the CW before you read!!!
“Perverted”, “Scandalous”, “Creepy”- Those were the words that I would have used to describe myself at this moment.
The night had started innocently enough. Y/n and I were having one of our monthly movie nights. We ordered pizza, watched a new release that we had been waiting for for months, and had some wine. Though, as it usually does with y/n, some wine turned into 2 bottles of the dark liquid. I wouldn’t have called myself drunk, but she insisted that I should not drive in that state. It wasn’t the first time I had slept over at her apartment, but this time, I wished that I had just gotten into my fucking car.
While I got ready for bed in the bathroom, y/n was preparing the couch for me since I always refused to take the bed. She still put up a fight every time, as if she didn’t do the same when she slept over at my place, and then pettishly prepared the couch. It was cute, just like every single thing about her was.
I sighed as I spit the toothpaste in the sink, thinking about how much it sucks to be in love with your best friend. Friends to Lovers…yeah, I wish. They make it look so easy on screen, but in reality, it just sucks. I contemplated telling her countless times, but the risk of losing her is too much. Even if she felt the same, relationships can end, people can fall out of love, and then you are left with nothing. I’d rather stick to yearning for the rest of my life.
When I left the bathroom, she was already waiting for me and we exchanged goodnights as we passed each other. Sleeping on the couch really didn’t sound so bad when the alternative was potentially losing her.
That didn’t mean that I didn’t lie awake thinking about what it would be like to sleep in the same bed as her and wake up next to her though. Most times I barely got any sleep, like tonight.
I tried falling asleep for 30 minutes before I gave up and turned the TV back on. I was barely able to hear the show that was running, but I hoped that concentrating on it would make me tired. It would have worked, but just as I was about to drift off to sleep, there was the faintest sound coming from y/n’s bedroom. It was so quiet that I wondered if I had just imagined it, but as I looked at the door, I saw that she didn’t close it properly, presumably by accident.
I closed my eyes again because people make noises in their sleep all the time, especially her, but a few seconds later, there was another noise. It sounded like a whimper, and this time I was sure that I had actually heard it. I contemplated what to do. Y/n had nightmares all the time, as should be expected in our line of work, but sometimes it was worse waking her up than just letting her sleep through it. Though thinking about the time when she scratched herself so hard that she woke up with blood under her fingernails, I got up anyway.
That was the first mistake I made that night.
I swear my thoughts were innocent when I went to push open the door, I just wanted to prevent her from hurting herself, so I was absolutely not prepared for the sight in front of me when the door fell open enough for me to look inside.
Y/n was lying on top of the bed, one hand in her panties and the other clutching the sheets. I froze. I know I should have just quietly closed the door and gone back to bed, but I didn’t.
That was the second mistake I made that night.
I kept my eyes on her, carefully memorizing everything I saw before me, storing it away in my endless memory. The way she arched her back while drawing slow circles over her clit, the way her shirt rose up because of that, and how the exposed skin of her legs and stomach looked in the faint moonlight that was streaming through her window.
The thing that got to me most though, was the look on her face. Her mouth was slightly agape, brows furrowed and her eyes clenched shut. It was absolutely mesmerizing, she was absolutely mesmerizing, and every detail of it was burned into my brain.
I knew how wrong it was, watching her like this in such a vulnerable moment, but I couldn’t look away. I was convinced the gods themselves were punishing me by putting such a sight in front of me and expecting me to walk away from it. It was utterly fucked up.
Another whimper left her, louder this time and she bit her lip, trying to keep herself quiet. God, she was trying not to wake me up but here I was, standing at her door and watching her.
Her underwear was pink, and even though it was almost dark in her room, I could still see the wet spot on it. I felt like I didn’t have any control over my body as my hand made its way to the bulge that was growing in my pajama pants, the pants she got me for my birthday. I remembered the look on her face as I unwrapped the fish print fabric, eyes full of excitement and the innocence that was always on her face. Well, most of the time anyway, because right now, there was no innocence in sight.
I was a sick man.
Her hand picked up the pace and I could hear the wet sounds it made. She sighed and threw her head back the same moment that my own hand found its way into my pants, thumb brushing over the precum-covered tip of my cock. I swallowed the groan that threatened to leave my throat when her other hand wandered to her breast, squeezing it, while I was stroking myself as fast as I could without making any sound.
It was then that I noticed the thing that would forever exile me from heaven and condemn me to a life in hell because while she lay there pleasuring herself, she was wearing my shirt, the shirt I had worn yesterday night in the cheap hotel room we were sharing. I had searched the whole room for it this morning, she helped me look.
I had to bite my lip to prevent a moan from escaping. Not only did she steal my shirt, but she also lied to me and was now wearing it while she fucked herself. The thought of my sweet and innocent best friend doing such a filthy thing almost pushed me over the edge, but like the sick masochistic pervert that I was, I gripped the base of my cock to keep me from cumming so soon. I wanted to watch her fall apart first, knowing if my orgasm finished washing over me first I would feel so guilty and sick I’d probably run to the bathroom to throw up and miss the best part.
The faster her hand moved and the closer she got, the more her sounds increased in volume. It’s fascinating how being aroused shifts your perception of the world around you because I would bet that she didn’t realize how loud she was getting. It didn’t matter anyways because the person she tried to keep quiet for was standing in the dark watching her.
When a whine escaped her, and her thighs started trembling, I knew she was close, so I started to increase my pace. I wanted to come with her, watch her fall apart and use it to reach my own climax.
My hand moved frantically around my cock and when her face scrunched up in pleasure and her thighs closed around her hand, I imagined how they would feel clenching around me. It was that thought that finally pushed me over the edge and made me spill my cum into my underwear. I bit down on my tongue hard and continued stroking myself while coming down, the same way she did.
When her hand stilled and she huffed out a breath, I knew I had to move fast. As quietly as I could I closed the door the same way it was before I had entered earlier and rushed to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and decided that I preferred to sleep in cum covered underwear instead of no underwear at all.
I caught my breath and tried not to think about what I had just done, but when I opened the door to go back to bed, y/n stood in front of me.
“Hi”, she almost squeaked when she saw me. Looking at her face, warm and splotchy from her orgasm, I felt myself getting hard again. I cleared my throat.
“Hi yourself”, I replied, acting like the last 10 minutes didn’t actually happen.
“You’re still awake”, she said and I saw realization wash over her face. To go to the bathroom, you had to walk by her room, and she must have noticed that her door wasn’t closed when she got up. She stood in front of me frozen and I hate to admit how much the sight turned me on. She thought I heard her. God if she knew.
I tried to be a good person, to be a gentleman, and let it go. Let her go to the bathroom to clean herself up and never talk about it again, but I just couldn’t.
“Yeah, I, uh, I couldn’t sleep”, I started and tilted my head to fake a concerned look,” By the way, are you okay? I heard some noise coming from your room. Did you have a nightmare again?” I was a sick perverted man, but the horror that washed over her face at my words almost made me take her right there against the wall.
“Uh yes. Yes, I did, but I’m fine! I’m awake, the nightmare is over. I really need to pee though so… goodnight Spence. Sleep well.” And with that, she started to move around me. I could have just let her go but it was too easy, the opportunity too great not to take it.
“Hey, is that my shirt? I was looking for it all morning.” She almost tripped when the words left my mouth.
“Oh, this was the shirt you lost? I thought it was mine, my bad. You’ll uh, get it back washed and folded just the way you like it. Goodnight!”, y/n rushed out and quickly closed the bathroom door and locked herself inside it.
It was quiet for a moment and then I could hear the faintest “fuck” from behind the door.
1K notes · View notes
gralto · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Schneider enjoys the view ;)
25 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 7 months
Note
Recommendations for fanfictions on bau!reader who has an established relationship with spence and is in danger or something please?I had found one where the reader is Reid's wife and they have a daughter and the unsub asks to go on a date with spence but then figures out he has a family and targets them.I loved that one and can't find anymore like it.If you would please have any recommendations I would love to hear them!!
Hi! Sorry this one took me a few days to answer! I'm actually not great with specific fic recommendations because I don't really save fics anywhere after I read them and I have the WORST memory 😭
However, the lovely @dreatine, @imagining-in-the-margins and @andiebeaword gave me some recommendations for this post so here they are:
Tumblr media
From The Trees by @/imagining-in-the-margins
No Corner of the Globe by @dontshootmespence
Peace by @sometimesiwritebadly
Life Saving Thoughts by @/sometimesiwritebadly
Spencer Reid x Reader by @tweedlydumbtweedlydee
Unknown Targets by @writer-in-theory
Follow My Lead by @actuallyspencerreid
Survivor (multi-part) by @/actuallyspencerreid
Bring Her Home by @/dontshootmespence
A Living Nightmare by @/dontshootmespence
Before It's Too Late and Aftermath by @/dontshootmespence
No Ordinary Day by @/dontshootmespence
When I Close My Eyes by @/dontshootmespence
Bad Feeling by @/dontshootmespence
Two Days by @/dontshootmespence
Caged (series) by @/dontshootmespence
From AO3 as well:
White Knight by brittishmenorbust
Finding a Rhythm by brittishmenorbust
Hope this fits what you were looking for!! ❤️
97 notes · View notes
yellowroseswrites · 10 months
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could write a fic about Spencer Reid x sh/ed reader. The reader is very insecure because she feels like she used to be smart but isn't anymore and maybe after failing a case she starts harming herself again.
I was also wondering if you could include
that she wears a watch all the time
that she tends to cut small cuts on her fingers because she can blame them on other things and often digs her nails into them when anxious
has a good relationship with family so she feels her actions are unjustified
Spencer and reader are friends but shes always thought of him as more
I totally understand if this isn't possible and thank you.
"I want to help you carry it."
Spencer Reid x Sh!BAU!Reader
Author's notes- [ “has a good relationship with her family so she feels her actions are unjustified’ called me out personally and i need emotional compensation /j. Sorry these pieces have taken so long, a lot of my requests have been sh related and i wasn’t in the right headspace until recently, i hope you understand and i hope you enjoy this piece <3 also this is taken quite far from the prompt, so i’m sorry about that. I’ll definitely try to write more with reid and sh reader, so i’ll try to follow the request a bit more closely next time]
TW- {Self harm mentions, not super graphic, but it is a bit detailed, mentions of kidnapping and su!c!de (briefly), Eating habits mentioned, but not detailed at all, disassociation scenes, 2 of them i think, use of y/n}
1.2k words, enjoy
You looked down at your watch, watching the second hand tick all the way around the circle, desperately trying not to look up. If you looked up, all you would see is the dissapointed face of your best friend, Spencer.
You were sat on a stool near his kitchen counter. Usually if you were sitting here, there would be laughter and smiles, maybe pizza or some freshly baked cupcakes, but this was different. You only ever saw Reid like this once, when he sat you down to talk to you about your eating habits. You swore you would never do anything that would make him that upset again. You never wanted him to worry about you. He had enough on his plate, you would only be a burden. And yet, here you are.
You thought you were hiding it well, to be honest you really were. You never let anything slip, not a wince, not a complain, nothing. No one knew a thing, until today.
You were finishing a case, a rough one if you’re being honest. There was a young girl, one with scars everywhere, self inflicted. Everyone thought she had killed herself, except you and Reid. You both fought hard to find the girl. The team did end up finding her, she was trapped in some freaks attic. The case was closed, she was found, it was fine. You told yourself it was fine, you did your best to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you. It wasn’t until you were filling out your case reports that you finally let yourself dwell on it. You could hear Derek’s voice so clearly in your head, “Is it possible that she took her own life? It’s clear she has suicidal tendencies.” Even after JJ and Hotch explained the complexities of non-suicidal self injury, his words still rang in your head. You dont even know why it bothered you. I wasn’t judgmental, it wasn’t disrespectful, it wasn’t even a bad theory, but it rattled you. It’s like you could perfectly imagine them talking about you like that, like you were nothing but your habits. You knew that wasn’t how Morgan meant it, he was doing his job, you would do the same for any other case, but this one just stung.
As you thought about it, you faded into your mind. It’s like you weren’t even there at your desk, you were inside your head. Your nails found there way to your other hands knuckles. You were good at hiding the marks, and it was easy to lie about them. They were your hands, anyone would believe that you just knicked them, or got them stuck in your car door, or that your neighbors cat was a playful fella, or the countless other excuses you had saved in your resevoir. You never hurt youself in public, or when people could catch you, except today apperently. Your finger was red and bleeding by the time you snapped out of your haze. Or rather, was rudely dragged out of our haze by Spencer. You blinked a few times as you focused on him and what he was saying.
“Y/n stop that.” His hands were on yours. You were frozen for a second, your mind almost buffering, before the reality of that moment actually dawned on you. Without speaking a word you pulled your hands back and stoop up from your desk.
You grabbed your bag, sliding your unfinished report into your desk drawer, before beginning to walk off, “Good work Spence, I’ll see you tommorow.” You made your way to the elevator, ttrying to avoid the obvious footsteps following you. He put his hand on your shoulder as you made your way out of the building, gently guiding you to his car. You didn’t fight it, you knew you couldn’t, and you would really rather not make a scene in your work parking lot. You listened to the hum of his car air conditioner as he drove the all familiar route to his appartment. 
That’s how you ended up here. A few warm tears falling down your cheeks while Spencer silently stares at your shrunken figure. He was trying to find the words that he wanted to say, which was never a good thing. He was the Spencer Reid, he always knew what to say. 
He finally cleared his throat, after what felt like ages, “Non-suicidal self injury is a habitual addiction, but it’s possible to recover from it. You just have to tell someone about it, that’s step one. That’s always been step one. We’ve talked about this.”
“I know Spence. I’m sorry.” Your voice was small. You felt small compared to your all knowing best friend. You knew everything there was to know about self harm, sometimes it was the only thing you wanted to read about or learn about, sometimes you felt like it was the only thing you knew about,  but you knew this was how Reid helped, so you tried to stay calm as you let him tell you everything that you already had memorized. 
“We’re friends y/n, you can talk to me.”
You huffed at that, mumbling a small, “Yea friends.”
“You’re deflecting.” He sounded softer, you hurt him. You were deflecting, and now you feel worse than you did before. You hated this, you wanted to go home and relive this day. Your nails started to sink into the skin on your thigh.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Great, Spencer saw. Spencer knows. Spencers going to think your insane, he’s going to talk about you like your a victim. He’s going to talk to you like a baby and look at you like your bleeding out in front of him. He’s never going to think about you the way you think of him, your just some charity case for him. He doesn’t -
His hand grabs yours, taking it away from your leg. Before your brain can catch up with you, your arms are wrapped around him, pressing your face into his torso. Your tears are falling more freely now. You feel his hands run through your hair and rub against your back. You never feel more safe than you do when your in his arms, your thoughts can’t catch you here. 
You aren’t sure how long you stay like that before you gently pull away from him. You sit patiently as he examines your hands. You can see the hurt in his eyes, you do your best to ignore it. 
“I love you, y/n. I don’t want you to do this to youself. You can get help for this. You can talk to me about it if you need to.” He was soft, but not condescending. You could feel yourself melt, as though you needed another reason to love him.
“I can’t do that, I’ll just be a burden. This isn’t your baggage to carry.” You started to pull away again.
“It’s still your baggage, I just want to help you carry it. Let me help you, please.” His voice pulled you right back in.
You wiped the remaining tears from your face, “Okay Spence.” He sighed in relief, taking your hands and leading you to the couch. You both sat, you resting your head against his chest. You didn’t have to talk about it now. You knew you would eventually, but that's another thing about Spencer, you felt comfortable. You didn’t feel anxious about the impending conversations to be had, you weren’t stressing about him watching you or knowing your secrets, you simply felt safe. That was enough for now.
189 notes · View notes
avkima · 5 months
Text
~invisible strings:jamie flattersxreader~
Tumblr media
Chapter 1
Summary: after Bailey drags Reider (reader) to meet Britain’s friends for a little hangout a quick bond is formed between her and Jamie. Doesn’t matter though, she’s so in the friend zone. P.S summary will change chapter to chapter as new info is given
tags:friend groups, Bailey Bass is your bff, Avatar cast, Sam and Zoe are your parents simply because they can be, fluff, friends to lovers, angst, love triangle if you squint, unrequited love but it’s really not, closed door smut. Stay tuned for some Easter eggs of secret characters and plot lines.
wc: 1.2k
tag list↯
@neteyams-wh0re
💌💌💌💌
truly don’t think I’ve lived before I found you.
But it was always meant to be
I never saw the world until I looked into your deep brown eyes.
You were there in the little things, but how had our paths never crossed?
I never felt alive until I felt your touch.
As a connected duet we preform this experience together.
I wish to dance with you forever.
For eternity—
Not just till death do us part.
-jamie flatters
* “Shall I compare the to a summers day?”
“I’m more of a fall to be honest”
——————
I really needed to get out of my dorm. Or at least that’s what Bailey had been telling me when she caught me talking to myself while folding laundry. She would barge in unannounced when she felt the need. Today I had been home alone all day so ranting to myself about horrible Professor Quaritch was inevitable.
“I was winning an argument—now I’m off track” I glance at her as she strolls in.
“Oh my apologies weirdo.” She sits down next to me and begins folding too, “Have you been in here all day? It looks spotless!”
My tiny 250 square foot dorm could be cleaned top to bottom in an hour if I was being a perfectionist about it—or I had neglected it that week. But I wasn’t about to go through my whole list of antisocial activities which only included an hour or two of actual school work.
“Yeah mostly, that and Gilmore Girls”
“You live like you have no friends”
I chuckled, “I live like an introvert who has been with her friends all week!”
She frowned.
Bailey was the most bubbly extrovert I’ve met. Most of the time she was very understanding of our opposing personalities but to be honest I think she saw I was more in the dumps than I was letting on.
“Come on, you need to get your mind off of Chris and have some fun tonight!” Bailey gets a twinkle in her eyes, a plan is forming as she pulls me off of the beige couch. “It’s party time!”
I groan “I’m all for a little get together but I don’t know if I’m party ready.” Bailey tugs on my arms back and forth to get me to dance with her.
“Britain invited some of his friends and the group to his apartment. It’s gonna be like so chill, I promise no more than like 7 people.”
I frown, mulling over how truthful that statement really was and how uncomfortable I would be if it truly was a party.
She notices I haven’t exactly been won over and back tracks. “I said party but I didn’t really mean party. It’s so casual and you know me, you know Britain, and you know Jack.” She meets my eyes for the selling point blinking her big green eyes “plenty of people to hide behind.”
I sigh. I hadn’t met any of Britain’s friends but I knew Bailey hangs with them too so they couldn’t be too bad. If anything I can just be introduced and then let Bailey and Jack do all the talking.
“Ok sure.”
“Yay! We can bring drinks, our wine is gonna go bad soon.”
>——————>
October In LA proved to be colder than I usually is. I regretted my sleeveless top but the jeans made up for it. With some chilled Merlot and some odd white claws or two in tow me and Bailey headed out to Britains apartment just off of 110 not far from campus. The smooth car ride in Bailey’s Camry proved useful for my mascara application. She had mentioned some of her boyfriend’s friends were single and encouraged me to at least get out of my sweat pants. I wasn’t getting my hopes up but I guess I was expecting something…maybe.
Britain’s apartment always smelled like something was cooking even when there was no food in the house. Tonight it smelled like burnt…toast?
Bailey scrunches her nose upon entering, “What did you burn?”. She asked Britain who opened the door for us.
“Popcorn.” He kisses her cheek and takes the drinks to the kitchen. “At least we have these” he tosses the bag of popcorn into the trash and takes some plastic cups out of the cabinet.
We set our bags down on the couch and look around at the seemingly empty apartment.
“Where are the boys?” Bailey asks, stepping closer to me. I know what she’s doing.
“Not sure actually,” he looks towards the hallway that led to his and his two roommates rooms. “Party’s here bros!”
My stomach flipped as a guy emerged from the hall, thankfully followed by Jack.
Jack greeted me with a smile and hug, “hey bro.”
The other guy he was with looked pretty friendly, a big smile on his face as he introduced himself. “Hey I’m Duane.”
“Reide.” I smile and shake his hand.
Britain calls out for ‘Filip and Jamie’ who we could hear laughing in one of the bedrooms down the hallway while we had been making our introductions.
One Filip and Jamie come walking down the hall—though I do not know which is which. They were still chuckling to each other from their conversation.
Bailey linked arms, probably trying to ground me with all these new people…new boys.
“So this is Jamie,” she gestures to the brunette with the sharper features who also seemed to be a few inches shorter than “and this is Filip.”
“this is Reider.” She finishes
“Everyone just calls me ‘Re or Reide.” I smile at them giving him my best attempt at confidence.
“Good to see you Reide.” Filip says he seems less chummy with me but this almost gives me more solidarity with him.
Jamie’s eyes catch my attention. They are blue or maybe hazel. The apartment lighting is still enough to see that he’s pretty. One of the hotter guys I’ve ever seen on campus.
“That’s a pretty name, ‘Reide.” He shakes my hand.
My flick wider and my cheeks grow hot.
He’s fucking British.
“Oh wow you have an accent.” Shove my hands in my back pocket, again posing myself as confident to make up for how frocking nervous I was to be talking to a cute boy.
“Yeah I’m from London.” His smile tells me he’s had this conversation a lot.
I panic a bit, not knowing whether he rather me just move on from his Britishness or if it would be rude to be so disinterested.
Bailey comes in to save me. “Well Britain burnt the single snack he had so is anyone up for a snack run?”
We all agreed the night would end in a movie and some games as we piled into Duane’s van.
He graciously offered to drive us to Walmart. Jack jumped in the passenger seat and immediately grabbed the auxcord.
The seating arrangement left me sitting in the middle of Jamie and Bailey. He smelled good though like cinnamon, vanilla and maybe pine. I hoped I smelled good, seeing as my body was so close to his. He was even cuter up close.
Jack started playing Get Him Back by Olivia Rodrigo and from there the chaos sprung. The boys belted the lyrics as if they had just been through some gut wrenching break up with their gaslighting boyfriend.
I giggled with Bailey, content. They seemed pretty cool but the night has just begun.
51 notes · View notes
caernys · 10 months
Text
i only dream (when i'm lying down)
Tumblr media
relationship: spencer reid x reader, romantic pairing (part one)
Tumblr media
summary: you're an agent of the violent crimes division of the fbi and you’ve fallen in love with spencer reid.
notes: part two! also posted on my AO3 account, kitkat_katsuki
warnings: vague mention of dead body (the shooter) and mild use of firearms
part one -> part two
Tumblr media
you don’t shake hands. it’s a thing you’ve had since childhood— an aversion to touch and skin to skin contact. it’s stupid, you know, but everytime you go to peel off your gloves another statistic goes clicking through your head (a study conducted by researches at the institute of biological, environmental and rural sciences at aberystwyth university showed that a handshake passed about 124 million colony forming units of e-coli) and you’re pulling back your palm to wipe nervously on the hem of your shirt.
it’s been interpreted a lot of ways. a sense of superiority, some propose. others spit about a god complex, or just a plain old lack of basic etiquette. it doesn’t help that immediately after you’re proudly introduced as a “genius” by your ssa, left to stand there awkwardly while stevens brags about your iq (192), how fast you can read (30,000 words per minute), or your photographic memory (eidetic, you’re always itching to correct).
but you’re used to it. before your mother passed, she used to pull you tight at night and work her hands into your neck, whispering about how you were perfect just the way you were. it wasn’t your fault people got threatened when confronted with someone they perceived to be above them. it didn’t stop the harsh, barbed words that would always be hurled at you, but it did soften the blow.
your mother had always said you were meant for greater things than your dinged up apartment in la and your run down elementary school. she’d urged you time and time again to go where your brilliant mind was taking you, but you always turned her down. just because you could memorize a dictionary in seven minutes didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the fifth grade.
when she got stabbed for refusing to give over her purse in a mugging (and subsequently bled out over the dirty pavement, screaming and alone) you cried for the first time in years. you’d never been one to cry— your father had beat it into you long ago before your mother had managed to whisk you away half across the country. you gave yourself forty eight hours. then you dried your cheeks and took a placement test.
the administrator had been shocked, at first. you knew you had aced it. it hadn’t been that hard. when she had told you with slightly shaking hands that she recommended skipping you all the way to highschool (college was on the table too, she said, but you just shook your head. that was a bit too far of a jump). she enrolled you into your senior year of highschool, and you had rocked back on your heels with a satisfied grin. it was a tribute to your mother, you told yourself. one day you were going to stand at the top of the world and you were going to be able to tell her that you had let your brilliant mind take you all the places she had told you about. (of course, she hadn’t mentioned some things.)
you got thrown into a locker the first day of school. they were seventeen, going on eighteen— you were eleven. as smart as you were, it wasn’t hard to put together the conclusion that harassment like this was always going to be inevitable. unavoidable.
you’d swing by the drug store on the way back from school, buy a tiny tube of concealer to dab on in the denny’s bathroom before heading back to the “flavor of the month” foster home. you got bounced around a lot. couldn’t blame them.
you were three months into your senior year when you met austin. she was pretty. long, auburn hair and natural make up. high cheekbones and sharp, angular lines that made up her face. she told you she had lost her parents young, and she fostered to give other kids the childhood she never had. you didn’t trust her. you never trusted anyone.
she was, surprisingly, the first one who finally got a clue. it doesn’t match your skin tone, she’d told you, rubbing the concealer off your face with a wet rag. you didn’t flinch away from her touch and she smiled all soft at you. she was alright, you guess.
austin offered to step in. she might not be your actual parent, she had vowed, but she could make hell in the school system until those kids were reprimanded. you had laughed, assured her it was fine. it wasn’t, but this was one of those things you had to deal with yourself.
she’d been frustrated, but understood. after a couple more days of you coming back a little rough around the edges, though, she had snapped— and offered to teach you how to fight. you had accepted. seemed like a valuable skill to have, didn't it?
austin owned a gym a twenty minute drive from your house. the mats in there quickly became a safe space for you, a shelter of training and quiet and peace. you took to taekwondo immediately, transitioning from there into hapkido and jiu-jitsu, muay thai and just about anything else you could get your hands on. your frame began to fill in with wiry muscle and you began to catch the punches before they hit you.
after you beat harry summers into a bloody pulp by the water fountain after he tried to reach a hand up your skirt, people began to back off. you’d been suspended for five weeks but austin had squeezed your shoulder proudly on the way to the car. you’d let her. she would adopt you five months, three days, four hours and thirty two seconds later. (an eidetic memory did have its perks.)
the fbi recruited you when you were fifteen and at mit, hacking their servers on a drunk dare. you had done it after eight shots, and they had never been more delighted to their code so mercilessly destroyed.
they couldn’t take you on as an agent until you were of age, so you stayed a shadowed consultant for the three years, sorting through case files between lectures and research papers.
you signed away your life to them when you were eighteen and got a badge and a gun in exchange. it was an even trade, you mused. (the first time you would fire that gun you were quivering and bloody, beaten and scratched, but your hands were steady when you pulled the trigger. grayson davids, a serial murderer, died that day. when you got to hug a mother and tell her the man who had taken her daughter would never hurt anyone again, you found that you didn’t regret it.)
austin would always force you home on weekends. she’d moved to dc to be closer to you, and you would spar for old times sake in the living room, tackling each other over pillows and chasing around the kitchen counter. you found that you loved her, one rainy saturday when you were 19. you called her mom for the first time a week later, and you both cried.
you met penelope garcia at a party and you were instantly enraptured. technology seemed to bow to her will and you’d spent the entire night together, drinking and laughing and dancing. you kissed her in the bathroom and she’d sighed all pretty, leaning forward to snake a hand around your neck. 
you’d left the party happy and floating for the first time in years. (though you loved penelope to pieces, you two had parted as friends that night.)
she’d often call you with questions or invite you over with movie nights, though you’d always end up bent over a computer with her, nudging each other and laughing as your fingers flew over the keys. she never asked about your job. you never asked about hers. it was widely understood that penelope garcia’s house was a serial-killer free space. 
at least, it had been until she’d gotten shot on the steps of her apartment. you’d gotten a call from her late the next day, and you had flown into a nervous panic. you couldn’t lose her– couldn’t bare to lose anyone ever again. at the hospital, she’d held your hands and cried into your arms, and assured you that there would be police outside of her house. you had dismissed that, offered to stay over, but apparently a member of the fbi had already beat you to it.
you’d asked her if she trusted him. she’d responded, “with my life.”
so you had relented. gone home, took your phone off of silent, set it right next to your bed. she didn’t call, so you assumed everything was alright. (it wasn’t).
the next day you swung by her office with a jar of peanut butter cookies to leave on her desk. she loved them, and you’d figured it was a nice thing to come back to.
instead you found a police officer with a gun pressed to the temple of an fbi agent, and two men from penelope’s team standing in front of him, hands raised. you recognized him from a sketch an artist had made penelope complete the other day at the hospital. you shot him in the back of the head, bullet shattering the glass.
the room was silent. the man was dead. your hands, as always, were steady.
(you would meet spencer reid exactly twenty five minutes and thirteen seconds later.)
77 notes · View notes
action · 1 year
Text
A Florida Republican pitches a bill to cancel the Democratic Party in the state. Source Joy Reid
125 notes · View notes
alrauna · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Marcel Reider
30 notes · View notes
pherelesytsia · 2 years
Text
Period Pain
Pairing: Spencer Reid x female Reader
Summary: Spencer helps his girlfriend through her period.
Warning: Fluff and Period
Word Count: 1.1k      
a/n:  Requested by Anonymous.
Spencer Reid Masterlist
Tumblr media
Pain flooded her body, coming and going like the ebb and flow of the tide. Her steps were heavy and ungraceful Libs ached painfully. The keys in her right hand jingled. The mask of happiness fell to the floor like a curtain after a long performance of great actors singing and performing a lovely old play of hundreds of years.
The door slammed shut. The weight resting like a cloak on her shoulders trying to bring her to her knees was awfully heavy, but Y/N stayed strong, longing for a long bath, for warmth, for a hug, for words telling her everything would be all right again.
Y/N smiled faintly and stepped into the flat she shared with her boyfriend. Questioningly, Y/N looked around. Her brows almost touched. She was no detective, yet her senses were sharp and keen, having learned much from her boyfriend of many months, which turned slowly into years. She let the handbag slide to the floor and clutched the keys of the keyring so she could use them as a weapon. Again, footsteps echoed through the peaceful flat. Light streamed through the large windows flanked by long curtains in light hues. Y/N stopped, searched for a person. The tiredness disappeared from her face, carried away by the cold gust of air, getting ready for a fight, not even wasting a thought on fleeing through the unlocked door of light wood. Y/N made two steps and halted.
Water splashed and the smell of freshly baked biscuits lingered in the air and mingled with the smell of fresh herbs. Brows almost met on their way. Since when do burglars bake and take a bath, Y/N wondered, searching for the reason for the commotion. Peering into the long hallway, Y/N realised no blankets were resting on the shared bed. Her eyes went on a quick journey and then she found the two blankets on the sofa among the light pillows in different shapes and sizes. Smoke was rising from the cups and next to it were bowls filled with sweets and strawberries.
            "Spence?" breathed Y/N.
The words resembled the whisper of the wind, but they were loud enough to startle the men in the bathroom. Spencer ran his dominant hand through his unmade hair, rose from the floor and looked confusedly in the direction the voice was coming from. Swiftly the man in the dark suit rose from the tiled floor of the bathroom and looked down at his watch, sure he had more than half an hour before his girlfriend would be back from work and enter the flat.
Spencer had recognised the symptoms at first glance before Y/N could even realise the week of pain and massages was approaching. He smelled it. Her skin always smelled differently yet he loved the scent. It was heavier, yet lovely. Her nails turned fragile and her skin was dry. Spencer smiled weakly and took a long step across the bathroom, filled with the scent of blossoming flowers. He passed the towel he had warmed on the radiator lying on the round table next to the bathtub, filled with water hidden under a thick layer of bubbles.
            "What are you doing here, my love?" he asked.
Immediately Spencer wanted to take back the words he had chosen. The choice was poor, letting her know she should leave. Sadness spread through her eyes and was close to tears.
            "I didn't mean it, but you always arrive at six, never earlier. I wanted to do something special for you. I know this time of the month is not the easiest not only for the female body but for your mental state. I wanted to surprise you, my love", "How do you know? I don't think I told you I was getting my period. I got it earlier, more than a week." Y/N hiked in.
Her fingers played around the buttons of her long coat, wanting to take it off, but before it could fall off her shoulders, Spencer stood by her side and helped her, throwing the long coat onto the sofa a few steps away from them. Y/N flashed a weak smile, thanked her boyfriend and grinned broader as the scent of fresh flowers enveloped her and washed a small chunk of the pain away.
            "I handed in the papers earlier, but I can leave if you want." Y/N teased.
Spencer shook his head and Y/N let him know she was joking but Spencer knew it. His warm breath touched her skin. Gently he squeezed her shoulders and breathed an affectionate kiss on her cheek while his thumb drew in circular motions pictures on her skin, feeling the tense muscles under his touch.
"I wanted to surprise you.", "You surprised me anyway Spence. I thought you are a cookie baking, bath taking bugler." Y/N objected.
Her words elicited a soft laugh from him, which he couldn't hold back. His arms wrapped around her body. Carefully Spencer´s hands rested on her belly. He felt the bloated stomach. Spencer applied delicate touches, knowing how much his girlfriend suffered, knowing exactly why she was wearing clothes not her size, not wanting to be asked awkward questions she had heard several times, ashamed of her swollen abdomen resembling the stomach of a pregnant woman in the fourth month. Spencer rested his head on her shoulder and kept looking from his hands to her eyes, recognising the pain and anguish in them which had shone with life just a few days ago.
            "I have prepared the tub for you, get in and I'll follow you with tea and sweets in a moment. And after that, we will watch a movie of your choice and enjoy the rest of the day." reported Spencer, seeing out of the corner of her eye the growing grin appearing on her lips.
His hand travelled up and down.
"I saw your schedule for tomorrow and I know you have a day off so I decided to call Hotch to spend a wonderful and relaxing Saturday with my beautiful girlfriend," Spencer murmured into her ear.
Y/N turned in his lose embrace. Smiling she wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing herself close to his chest, feeling his sturdy palms travel up her body, journeying from her backside to the middle of her aching back. Words filled with love and affection left his throat. The pain faded away; the muscles ached less and she closed her eyes in delight, inhaling his scent.
323 notes · View notes
occultamusica · 2 months
Text
Fennir Reider - Dark mist of the final dawn (in Fennir Reider, 2024)
7 notes · View notes
hetalia-club · 1 year
Text
Can we talk about something for a second babes?
If anyone in my real life life found out who my animated crushes were I would simply just ✨ pass away ✨ like on the spot like a fainting goat just dead. Like if fucking just random ass normal Jessica with thee kids at my work found out I have a crush on the anime personification of our great nation of The US of A….
I would quit my job on the spot. I wouldn’t even say a word I would just turn around and walk straight out the door. No “sir I would like to submit my two weeks notice”. I would just dip.
I would change my name and move to Mexico where I would sell tamales out of a cart for the rest of my natural life
I would dig a big hole really quickly and burry myself inside of it like bugs bunny and a grave would just manifest on top. And say “rest in piss”
I would move to Manitoba and build a cabin with my bare hands and live off the land. Maybe meet a nice burly mountain man who teaches me to fish and in turn I could teach him how to love
I would move to the swamps in the Louisiana Bayou and become a swamp witch where I would do blood magic for tourists.
Mayhaps I would join a 40s traveling circus and become a carnival barker. I could be the one who drums up business for the freak show. “Step right up, steap right up folks” then when I pulled back the curtain the stage is empty and I go stand in the middle. It’s me I am the freak.
84 notes · View notes
vyorei · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
More from Dimi Reider on the threat to Al-Shifa Hospital
12 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 8 months
Text
On season 9 of my rewatch and just got hit with Spencer saying "I know it's not as effective as my dominant personality" and now I'm 100% writing a fic where reader asks him about his dominant personality
90 notes · View notes
yellowroseswrites · 9 months
Note
yo. so i just saw that spencer x reader you wrote featuring an ED. i was wondering if maybe you could write it as an imagine/one shot/whatever but from a different perspective? im struggling with losing weight unintentionally due to drug use and its starting to scare me. last time i was this thin i did have an ED. so would you be able to do one where the reader is just as concerned as spencer about their weight loss? maybe he helps find foods that work for them, encourages them to eat, etc? id love it of spence were cheering me on to finish a bowl of cereal (⋟﹏⋞)
"One more bite?"
Spencer Reid x Reader
Author's notes - {I have quite literally no clue if this is good or accurate, but I did my very best. I did a little research but I still wrote it very vague to avoid as much invalidating as possible. I hope this brings at least a little comfort, and my apologies for any and all inaccuracies}
TW- {Plenty of eating talk, reader eats, Spencer eats, they eat cereal, milk is mentioned, past eating issues are mentioned but barely, Pulp Fiction is mentioned, probably inaccuracies about movies, Dead Poets Society mention, there's a 420 joke but it's from Spencer so it's not really said as a joke, Autistic Spencer Reid, but that's just how I write him,not proofread, if there's any more lmk! love you all please eat some food and drink some water lovelies <3}
“I’m not hungry.”
God, it sounded so sad on your tongue. You wished you could just eat, you really did. You weren’t like you used to be, you didn’t want to be like this. You just wanted to eat.
Spencer’s face fell, but only a bit. He was used to this by now to, your body working against you. Your body craved things that would destroy it, but it refused to accept the things it needed, like food. It was scary for you, and it was positively horrifying for Spencer. He was watching you fight back, but wither away anyway, and he hated it.
"I know you aren't, but it's important that you eat it."
You groaned in annoyance. You knew Spencer was helping, but it was the same thing you've heard over and over again.
Reid seemed to think a bit before moving again, this time pouring milk into his own bowl before putting away the milk and the cereals, (fruit loops for you and raisin bran for him, which he insists helps him remember things during cases).
He came back to his bowl and started eating in front of you, "You like Tarantino movies right?"
"Uh, some of them, why?"
While you spoke he took a bite of his food, signaling with his spoon for you to do the same. Once you grabbed your spoon, he spoke again.
"Did you know that almost every clock in Pulp fiction is set to 4:20? Some people have said that they only have 2 scenes where they are set differently, but to be honest I've never seen it so I wouldn't know."
"Wait a minute," You said, "You have never seen Pulp Fiction?"
"That's what you got from that?"
"Who hasn't seen Pulp Fiction? It's a classic!" You took another bite of the cereal.
"That's what you said about Dead Poets Society." Spencer replied.
To be fair, he had read the book. He knew everything that would happen, it was definitely not your fault he spent the whole time pointing out things they got wrong. You simply nodded your head at his reply, messing with the fruit loops left spinning in your bowl.
"Wanna take one more bite for me?" 
There was barely any left in the bowl, half of you wanted to fight back, and half knew it was stupid and that Reid wanted the same thing you did. You took the bite and slid the bowl over to him, which he quickly took with his to the sink. 
"Ok," You stood up from your seat at the table, "We are totally going to watch it now."
Spencer giggled at your excitement, walking over to you and kissing your forehead. "Uh-hu. Go turn it on, I'll be in in a second."
 
You turned to walk over to the couch when Reid stopped you again, 
"And hey, I'm proud of you."
He gave you a quick smile before you walked off again, and his smile only grew as he washed your empty bowl.
94 notes · View notes
samshinechester · 6 months
Note
How about Reider instead of Schneesh LOL
Tumblr media
You are onto something here, my dear anon.
9 notes · View notes
twistiraki · 1 year
Text
Every curve and line, every dimple and freckle.
Tumblr media
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ TᗯIᔕTEᗪ ᗯOᑎᗪEᖇᒪᗩᑎᗪ Pairing Vil x gn reader Warnings none ‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗
Vil had always been fascinated by y/n's smile. It was bright and warm, just like the sun shining down on them. He found himself constantly drawn to it, unable to look away whenever you grinned or laughed.
It wasn't just the physical appearance of your smile that captivated him, though. There was something about it that made Vil feel at ease, as if all his worries and troubles melted away whenever he saw it. It was a small comfort, but one that he cherished nonetheless.
One day, Vil decided to approach you and compliment you on your smile. He was nervous, his heart pounding in his chest as he walked up to you. But when he finally reached you, he couldn't help but grin himself as your smile greeted him.
"Hey, I just wanted to say that your smile is amazing," Vil said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It always makes me feel better, like everything is going to be okay."
You blushed at the compliment, but your smile only grew wider. "Thank you, Vil. That's really sweet of you to say."
Vil felt a warmth spread through him at the sight of your smile. It was as if he had been given a gift, one that he would cherish forever. He couldn't help but stare at it, memorizing every curve and line, every dimple and freckle.
As you talked, Vil found himself unable to look away from your smile. It was as if he had become addicted to it, needing to see it every chance he got. But he didn't mind. As long as he could see your smile, he knew that everything would be alright.
50 notes · View notes