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constantlyembarrassed · 10 months

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Just Some Light Stalking

Summary: Penelope has been pushing Spencer Reid to get some form of social media for years. Suddenly, he has an Instagram acount?

Paring: Spencer Reid x Reader

Authors Note: Hi! This is my first post! If you see this please interact :) I would love to meet more people in this community! Oh and the "..." show the change to the alternating story or time.

Warnings: None

Spencer had never been one for cell phones. Let alone social media. Despite Penelope's constant insistence, Spencer only used his cell for the occasional work call.

Yet, there it was. Spencer Reid's Instagram account. The profile wasn't blank. Minimal, yes, but not blank. The account had a profile picture, name, and, pronouns. But just one. One tagged post from its only follower.

. . .

"Pleaseeee," you begged. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his bisep, leaning all your body weight on Spencer. His opposite hand held your white heels and clutch from the night as you walked home. "It won't kill you, Spence."

"Actually, Mobile phones release radiofrequency energy, or radio waves, that can be absorbed by bodily tissues. In the past, studies have linked heavy mobile phone use to certain brain tumors. Not to mention the chemical effects-," Spencer began. Somehow, he still managed to use his hands (though full) while speaking.

"Spencer," you loudly interjected. Dragging out the "r" in his name as you spoke.

"Why is using social media so important?" He said, furrowing his eye brows.

"Because."

"Y/n, because, is the worst explanation you could possibly provide," Spencer chuckled.

. . .

Why would Spencer Reid have an Instagram account. More importantly, why was he not following his favorite tech analyst ... or JJ, Emily, Morgan, Rossi, even Hotch. His only Follower was someone named, y/n? Who was y/n? Why didn't Garcia know y/n?

Y/n. A college girl in Virginia. Class of 2025. Recent posts for the school rivalry game, her cat, her birthda- .

"Oh. My. God" Garcia said out loud. Her fingers had stopped typing to stare blankly at the screen. "Oh my god," she repeated. "Oh my god, oh my god!" Now she fully stood up, frantically shaking her hands.

The cover photo was your favorite of the night. The club lighting was dark, almost black. Purely lit by the disposable flash. Your dress was white, covered with blue and green flowers. You were blowing out the "21" cake candles. Spencer sat to the left, his arm resting on the back of your chair. A smile of pure adoration across his face as he watched you. The only post Spencer Reid's Instagram account was tagged in. Posted by y/n. His only follower.

Almost immediately, the line boomed,"DEREK MORGAN!"

"Whoa-Whoa, baby girl, what's wrong?" He said in a concerned tone.

"Did you know?" She spoke accusingly. "Did you know about her. How could you not tell me. Me of all people. I love love. I -" She said overdramatically.

"Garcia, you know I love you, but I have no idea what you're talking about." He replied, smirking.

"How, Derek Morgan, could you not tell me about boy wonder's girlfriend!"

. . .

"My man!" Derek exclaimed. He walked through the bull pen with an extra pep in his step the next mroning. Spencer grimaced at the call while sipping his coffee. "A little birdy told me something," he followed with a rythem in his voice. A large grin was spread on his face.

"Oh, Do tell." Prentiss said comming from the kitchen with a fresh cup.

"Pretty Ricky here, has been holding out on us." Derek said, gesturing to Spencer.

"Holding out?" An anoyed Spencer replied.

"Spencer Reid's got a girlfriend." Derek declared.

Spencer's shock manifested as he almost spit out the coffee he was drinking, clumsily fumbling with the cup.

Once Spencer finally regained a shred of composure, he swolowed hard, licking his lips before frantically asking,"h-how did you even?".

"You may be the genius, but I know all." Garcia said, smirking at the good doctor as she headed to the round table.

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mandarinmoons · 4 months

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Annabel Lee - Spencer Reid

Hello! This lil' fic was inspired by a video of Matthew reading the poem Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe found here !

Summary: When you're not able to sleep Spencer to throw out ways to help you, but turns out the solution was right in front of you

Warnings: none

I haven't written in a while so pls let me know your thoughts!

For the past week, every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you’d be kept up for hours on end. Tossing from one side to the other, trying out an array of different positions to feel comfortable enough to finally catch some rest, nothing would help.

When the issue was brought forth to Spencer he would list out an endless list of suggestions to try and find something that could eventually work

“Hmm let’s see, have you tried herbal-”

“Yes Spencer.”

“Okay, what about…”

You felt your thoughts drift off and eyes grow heavy as Spencer kept listing off different solutions for you to try out in hopes of finally getting some rest. A moment later you were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt a soft shake on your shoulder and were brought back to reality, “You okay Y/N?”. You blinked a few times and gazed at the concerned boy in front of you, realizing that the answer was there right in front of you and a small smile tugged on your lips, “I’m better than ever Spence. I have an idea.”

That night, Spencer came over to your apartment. The weather forecast had predicted heavy rain and when Spencer entered your apartment, you could well see that it had come true. Spencer’s hair was matted to his forehead from the rain and you were surprised he managed to walk all the way there because the rain had completely drenched the lenses of his glasses. You ran to get him a towel and chuckled as you ruffled the fabric over his hair, causing him to smile lightly.

After fetching him a warm blanket and making him a cup of hot chamomile tea, you both laid in your bed. Spencer brought over a poetry book to read to you and your eyes widened with curiosity. You just thought that you both would talk until you eventually ended up passing out, seeing that Spencer’s voice seemed to soothe you so much to the point of relaxation, but hearing Spencer's idea caused your heart to do a little flip. You thought that it was adorable.

So there you were, head resting in Spencer’s lap as he held a book of various poets' works in his hand. He would occasionally glance down at you and smile sweetly seeing how relaxed you seemed. The piece that finally did it for you was one by Edgar Allan Poe.

As the poem went on you felt your heartstrings being played with so hard that you thought you felt tears prick to your eyes. And the strangest thing of all was that when you looked over at Spencer, you swore you saw him look into your eyes as he kept reading it out loud.

“Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,”

That was it, those were the words that melted your heart and caused your breath to go shaky. A few lines later Spencer finished the poem and he placed the book down and turned his attention to you. His brows furrowed upon seeing your glassy eyes. His hand brushed against your cheek in a comforting way, “Hey you okay?”.

You nodded and shook your head lightly, “It was a really nice poem, thank you”. Spencer smiled and poked your cheek lightly which caused a small giggle to fall from your mouth.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

You smiled up at him and poked his cheek in return, “Without a doubt.”

You can find my masterlist here! x

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

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whereireid · 1 year

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𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 | masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

Summary: Drinking with Spencer turns out to be more eventful than you thought.

— warnings: fluff, alcohol

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol that’s making you feel warm and gooey, or the fact that Spencer’s hand hasn’t left your thigh since he slumped next to you on the sofa.

He’s drunk, that’s for sure. You both are. It’s been a rough day — for him more than you. It’s been a day so bad that when Spencer had come back to your apartment, mopey and dull, you’d taken the tequila out of your fridge and offered him a shot.

And another. And another.

“Do you think I’ll ever manage to save up and get my own apartment?” Spencer grumbles from next to you, his fingers trailing shapes on the skin of your thigh, his head lulling tiredly against your chest.

“One day,” you answer honestly, your heart pitter-pattering in your chest as Spencer hums. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, and you take the chance to snuggle closer, your leg brushing against his. “But I don’t want you to.”

“Why not?”

You bite your lip, focusing on the half-empty bottle of tequila as you speak. “I don’t know. I guess I’d miss you, Spence,” you mumble, your skin exploding with goosebumps as his fingers run up and down your skin. “Besides, it’s much safer with a literal member of the FBI living with me.”

Spencer snorts, the frame of his glasses rubbing uncomfortably against your shoulder, but you don’t comment on it. You’re afraid that if you do, he’ll move away, and that’s the last thing you want. No, you like Spencer being close to you, because it makes you feel good and warm and gooey.

“I failed my firearms qualification,” he mopes, sighing as you smooth his hair down gently in an attempt to reassure him. The touch makes his cheeks flush a wild red, and he hopes you don’t notice — and, if you do notice, he hopes that you think it’s because of the alcohol. “It’s hardly any safer with me around.”

“You’ll pass next time,” you offer, shooting him a gentle smile, and you try to ignore the way that your heart twists when his hazel eyes bore into yours. “I believe in you.”

“I’ve never failed at anything before,” Spencer slurs out, the dragging motion of his fingers stilling, his open palm resting on your thigh. There’s something intimate about the way he’s touching you and the fact that you’re allowing him. “It’s embarrassing.”

You grin, trying to ignore the way Spencer’s pitiful whining makes you yearn for him even more. “There’s a first time for everything, Spence,” you say, watching as his tongue comes out to wet his pink, plush lips, trying to ignore the way your stomach pools with warmth as he does so. “C’mon. Let’s stop the moping, and let’s celebrate instead.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Your first failure.”

Spencer tries to ignore the way his heart races in his chest when you lean in towards him, your hands planted on either side of his face when you speak. His senses are so dulled, and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the fact that he’s obsessed with how good you smell. He assumes it’s the Cantu coconut curling cream that you use — he’s smelt it on you many times before, but tonight, it’s making you insatiable and it’s making him dangerously unfocused.

And you’re thinking the exact same thing, because in your drunken state, the cologne he’s wearing seems to have become much more delicious. Spencer smells so good that it drives you crazy, and you beam at him sheepishly as he takes the shot you offer him, his face contorting into a grimace as he swallows the bitter liquid.

“Did you really mean it?” He asks, his hands now cupping your cheeks, his breath fanning against your face, flooding you with the smell of tequila. “When you said you’d miss me if I left?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you, Spence. You know that.” You shoot him a smile, your face flooding with warmth as his thumb grazes over your lips. “Besides, you’d be able to tell.”

Spencer grins, sheepishly, his cheeks flushing a pastel pink as he gazes at you. “I’m going to ask you something and I need for you to tell me the truth.”

“Okay. Ask.”

His brows knit together, his tongue coming out to wet his lips again, and you curse yourself for getting so distracted by how adorable he looks. Spencer is so fixated on you that he doesn’t even realising how teasing he is, how being this close to you is only amplifying your attraction to him.

“Do you — do you like me?” He finally manages to stammer out, his ears flushing a twinge of pink as he speaks. “As in, like-like me? Because I think that I like-like you.”

You blink at him, drunken and confused, trying to piece together the words in your head. What they mean. And you’re pretty sure that you know — he couldn’t have been more obvious, but your heart is racing in your chest nonetheless because, holy shit, did Spencer Reid just confess he had a crush on you?

“I do,” you whisper, and Spencer’s grin widens, his entire face now a beet red. You’ve never seen him like this, so flustered and so intense. “I like-like you, Spencer.”

“Good. Because I feel more for you than a like-like, and it would have been really awkward if you said you didn’t feel the same just then.”

You didn’t think you’d confess to Spencer. Ever. And, now that you have, you’ve no idea what to do, blinking confusedly as the alcohol pulses through your bloodstream. Your body is warm and Spencer’s hands are insatiably hot as they press against your face, his close proximity clouding your thoughts. “Spencer,” you whisper, your eyes boring into his, your stomach tight with nerves as he gazes at you with pure, drunken adoration, “can I kiss you?”

“Please,” he breathes, his nose smudging against yours as you press your face to his, your lips intertwining, goosebumps prickling up and down your skin as he kisses you back, with the same feverish intensity.

When you finally pull away, you feel hot, like an inferno. Your skin blazes wildly, and your eyes scan Spencer’s, whose so fixated on you that it makes you flush even hotter. Spencer’s lips are painted red, smudged with your lipstick, and you laugh, your thumb wiping away the mark that you left behind.

Spencer hesitates, his eyes scanning yours before he stutters out, “can you do that again? Please?”

You giggle, nodding your head. “I’ll do anything for you, Spence,” you say honestly, brushing the hair from his eyes as you lean in again, your stomach fluttering with butterflies as you kiss him, softly, your lips moulding with his.

You’re unsure of how you’re going to get any sleep tonight, because Spencer’s mouth on yours is more god-damn intoxicating than the alcohol you drank to get yourself in this position.

tags: @junieswrlds

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iluvreid · 5 months

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If I wasn’t borderline dyslexic and basically illiterate i think i would gag everyone with the fics i would write. Or maybe that’s just me being delusional. Who knows? Who cares?

(cute little spencer gif bc why not 😉💋)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x me #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #mgg pics

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misskingshit · 2 years

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𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘪 summary: He is so sweet, tender and innocent, a man written by a woman in every way. He seems to need help to be respected and you would do anything with him… I mean, for him. Note: So this is my first post, i don't really know what i should write in here, but thanks for reading and give me a chance! if u like this, follow me and ask me anything, again, thanks...and also, english is not my firt lenguage so i'm sorry if i write something wrong. xoxo

"I know man, I'm just saying, you have to start opening up to women" Morgan says "or you open them up, that would be a better option." Reid showed a confused face "are you assuming that I have a low rate of sexual activity? Besides, it doesn't seem right to me to talk like that about ladies" the characteristic tone of a good boy accompanied by his constant confused face melted you inside. "I already understand why no woman flirt you buddy, you're weird" a guy x whose name was unknown, joined the conversation that the two friends were having. "The girl from the bookstore, she had a very good conversation with me, she asked for my number" the smart boy said, trying to defend his manhood. "That girl, she is a lady at least thirty years older than you and you asked her to be a member of the bookstore. She needed your number to register on the computer." Reid was about to object but the unknown boy's hand interrupted him by lightly hitting his chest, pointing to the elevator. "Now, that, that is a woman" they seemed to look at you, hypnotized. You with your black hair, green eyes, boots with jeans and a blouse, all black. To the young boy it looked like you were walking on a slow face. "Guys I need the files of the case from yesterday, I spoke with some snippets and I have more information that I would like…" you looked up "hey Spence" you smiled coquettishly, slowly approaching the boy, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek, they connected glances for a few seconds and the desire to throw yourself on top of him was not lacking. "Would you take the files to the office as soon as you can?" you asked him, even being close to him. "y-yeah, of course" you smiled at him "Thank you pretty boy." The two men who were there, looked at the scene crazy. You left to continue with your affairs without first saying goodbye. "You lucky son of a bitch." Morgan couldn't help it. "You're an idiot, I can't believe it budd" the unknown agent put his head in his hands. "What are you talking about?" "She loves you brother, the only problem is that she's a big wild wolf and you're a… harmless… bunny" Morgan interjected "but now, you're going to bring her those files and attack, like the lion king that you are…that you will be". Reid nodded, somewhat confused by the examples and animals mentioned, but he would. But one thing was for sure, he would attack.

i'm gonna do part 2 later

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hotchaways · 2 years

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Heyyy 💕 hope you're having a really nice day/night!!!

Well, I wanted to know if I could request an angst/fluff one where reader is having a breakdown at home and Spencer comes from work to find out and take care of her, her medications and stuff even tho at first it was hard bc of her, but happy ending. Reader doesn't work in the BAU n stuff

Thanks thanks for your time at reading my request 💕

hello! i hope you are having a great day/night too :) sorry this took WAY too long, was really caught up with school :( but i hope you like how this turned out! thank you for sending in a request! 💗

Throughout the whole day, Spencer couldn’t help but feel worried- although, he felt like that would be an understatement. There was a lack of response on your end to his texts or calls to check up on you. All he wanted was to clock out and head on home to read on the opposite ends of the couch with you, or even watch reruns of old sitcoms late at night. But, he didn’t know that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” Spencer called out in your shared apartment while he closed the door behind him, “I stopped by the bakery and got your favorite croissants. Actually, I got some lemon squares, too.”

Spencer would’ve usually been welcomed by you running up to him to tackle him with your infamous hugs. But, he only heard the sounds of sniffling and sobbing coming from your room.

“(Y/N)?” Spencer softly knocked on the door, hoping you’d let him in. He respected your space and wouldn’t do anything to upset you even further, “What’s wrong?”

“Go away, Spencer,” You choked out, “Why won’t you leave me just like everyone else?”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” He frowned, wanting to know what prompted you to throw that question at him, “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m me- I don’t know how you keep up with me. God, Spencer, I weigh you down so much- I am nothing but a burden to everyone around me!”

Spencer felt his heart ache from your words- he never thought you were one, but he couldn’t help but think of anything he did that could’ve possibly caused you to think that way, “Can you let me in, (Y/N)? I don’t want to talk to you with a door in between us. I want to know what I’ve done wrong, sweetheart.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Spence,” You said as you leaned against the bed frame, “It’s just- fuck, I hate this. It must be so tiring to stay with me, and I don’t even know why you do. I’m literally a fucking shitshow.”

“I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to always pick up after me whenever I break down,” You said as your bottom lip trembled as the tears started to fall again, “I know you’re going to leave me soon enough. Everyone does- they all get tired of my same old shit, and it fucking hurts because I know I try to help myself, but I can’t because the demons in my mind can’t stop fucking with me.”

“Sweetheart, let’s press pause for a minute, okay?” Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed when he spotted your medications bottle peeking out behind the vase and walked towards it. He opened the lid and counted its contents and frowned, you must’ve forgotten to take it for the day. Spencer got a glass of water and sat back down near the door, “(Y/N), I’m not mad nor do I want to upset you, but did you take your medications today?”

You wiped your tears with the sleeves of one of Spencer’s sweaters, “I couldn’t find it! I don’t remember where I placed it and it should be where it usually is.”

“I found the bottle, is it okay if I asked you to let me in?”

Spencer couldn’t see you, but you shamefully nodded as you dragged your feet to the door to unlock and open it, revealing a smiling Spencer holding the bottle, a glass of water, and the baked goods he brought home for you, “Delivery for my girl.”

Silently making your way to sit back down on the bed, Spencer followed to sit beside you, “Here, drink up, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Spence,” You muttered as you took the bottle and glass from him and set it at your bedside table afterwards. You didn’t know why Spencer seemed unfazed by the accusing words you’ve thrown at him, but you didn’t bring that up and climbed into his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, “‘M sorry.”

“It’s okay, (Y/N). For what it’s worth, I love taking care of you,” He said as he kissed your temple and stroked your back in soothing circles, “Aren’t we all just variations of the shitshows in this world? You’re everything to me- my sun, moon, and stars. I’m here to say that I’m promising you all of eternity.”

You looked up at him with a small smile, “I love you, thank you for sticking by me. Even when I’m a mess.”

“Oh, hush it, you’re anything but a mess. I love you, no matter what. Through all the lifetimes we’ll have,” He smiled as he looked down at you, “I'm certain you’re my soulmate if that ever exists. The Spencer today wouldn't be without his (Y/N).”

Burying your face back in the crook of his neck to conceal your blush, "You're turning me into a tomato, I hate you. Can we eat the pastries you brought home and watch reruns of Golden Girls?”

“We can do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

#riley’s blurbs #riley's mini celebration!#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid hc #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfiction #spenc er reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst

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oceanmusings · 10 months

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Butterflies

Pairing | Spencer Reid x Arwen Valentine

Summary | Arwen moves in with Spencer.

Word Count | 1K

The pillow that Arwen hugged to her chest was the only thing that anchored her from the butterflies swirling in her abdomen. She stared at the packed boxes in her bedroom that were waiting for her to carry down the flight of stairs and into her car, then back up another set of stairs and left in Spencer’s place. And soon leave herself there with them.

Well, “leaving” wasn’t the right word. That’s not what’s happening. Arwen was moving in.

Spencer had suggested that she moved in after she asked to sleep at his place on their way home. It became a habit for Arwen to just sleep at Spencer’s instead. Half of her things had gravitated over there anyways. It made sense when he placed the idea out, but he was so gentle while saying it. Attentive of all her issues with making large steps in a relationship.

She was waiting in the elevator with him, standing next to each other as Arwen searched for her keys - she would rather drive with him than take public transportation. And he blurted the words out. “You could move in.” Then the panic was in his eyes that Arwen saw before when he let the “L” word out. She didn’t blame him for thinking what happened last time. “I mean- I just- wanted to say, I’d be okay with it. If you wanted to.”

Arwen felt the butterflies in her abdomen then too, adjusting her bag again, trying to keep her hands busy. Trying to think about this suggestion he had laid out. “Are you sure you want to live with me?” What if this is how she ruins her second chance with him? She didn’t want to lose him. And she couldn’t help but think this could be the domino effect of them splitting once again. “You won’t get bored and annoyed from seeing me 24/7?”

“You act like I don’t already.” Spencer points out.

Touché.

The elevator doors opened to the garage. Spencer saw how she was anxiously holding her bag, and immediately knew the swirling amount of emotions she could be feeling. He tapped on her fingers clutching on her bag's strap, and her fingers relaxed and released the bag, letting him take her hand into his own. He gave a gentle squeeze.

Arwen’s mind focused on the feeling of his hand in hers. It was like Spencer had some kind of superpower able to keep the clawing anxious thoughts at bay. She didn’t know how he did it, but she also didn’t want to question it. “But, of course I’m sure. You already kinda live there, and this would just make it more permanent. And I could never get bored or annoyed with you.”

Arwen melted and agreed to the idea. They decided to do it when her lease was up at her apartment to make things easier. Her brother could still have the old apartment too so there was no worry there. She even told the twins, and immediately Sam asked if he could have her room. Everything was falling into place. Now it was the final step. The day of moving in.

Currently she was waiting for Spencer to arrive since she called for his help. She couldn’t fit everything in her car and she refused to do this in multiple trips. Spencer could help with some of the boxes that just wouldn’t fit.

It wasn’t too many boxes either since most of her things were already at his place. Their place. It’s going to take Arwen some time to get used to referring to the apartment as theirs that they own together. Not just him.

Arwen got pulled out of her thoughts when she heard her phone go off, the photo background changing to a photo of her boyfriend instead. She pressed the “answer” button and pressed it the phone to her ear with a “hello?”

“I’m here,” She heard Spencer say on the other end. “Ready?”

There was a moment of silence as Arwen searched her feelings. Was she truly ready? It was really too late to back out now. She had already made her decision. But she also found herself not panicking to run the other direction. Just the fact this was all new. And the sound of Spencer’s voice on the other end caused this wash of warmth to spread through her. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

It was like a game of tetris trying to fit enough boxes in her car. A really frustrating game of tetris. She was really glad to have called Spencer for help and put some of the boxes in his own car that just didn’t fit, but also have his help on how to get everything to fit. He kept checking in with her to make sure she was comfortable and ready. And she kept confirming, she was okay. She was ready for this.

It was hell carrying those boxes back up the stairs. By the time she put the last box down, her thighs were so sore and exhausted. She definitely could skip leg day. She could feel a sheen of sweat all over her after basically a long ass work-out she has done. She really needed a shower. But she did it. All her things were here.

Arwen felt some arms snake around her waist and Spencer pressed some kisses along her cheek. She cringed at how close he was to the grime she has built up, rather he wasn't so close to her right now. She tried to squirm out of his hold, but he just tightened his arms around her.

“Please, I’m so gross. You don’t want to be close to this.”

“Yes, I do.” He murmurs as he presses more kisses along her body.

“I’m all sweaty!”

“I don’t care!” He grinned against her skin. “You’re here finally.”

A laugh left her lips as she memorized the feeling of being in Spencer’s arms, in a space they share together now. It felt surreal they were at this point of their relationship, Arwen would never be able to do this if they were together the first time around. Or with any relationship she’s had before. The idea would have petrified her and made her run for the hills. But here she is now, being held by her boyfriend in their apartment. Arwen realized all those feelings she was having earlier wasn’t the usual anxiety she was having. It was excitement. She was excited to move in. She was so used to the butterflies meaning anxiety when, in reality, they were excited butterflies. She couldn’t wait to share a space with him. A smile grew on her lips at this realization, a sense of pride rising in her at how much not only herself has grown. But Spencer too for them to be able to make this step together.

#arwen valentine #arwen and spencer #criminal minds oc #original character #original female character #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds one-shot #see I can write fluff for them #spencer reid x ofc #spencer reid one-shot

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appocalipse · 2 months

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selfish - spencer reid

summary: someone sends you flowers at work. spencer hates it more than he likes to admit.

a/n: i'm watching criminal minds again so...yeah, there we go. 2.1k words. ily if you read & reblog. ♥

"Coffee?"

The question takes you by surprise as much as the voice that says it does—you've been so absorbed in your work you almost forgot there was anyone else on the floor aside from you. Almost being the key word here, since it's pretty hard for you not to notice Spencer Reid.

You turn around in your seat, a little startled, but when you see him standing there, leaning slightly against his desk and looking at you expectantly, you immediately smile. You let out a heavy sigh and take a look at the papers scattered on your table.

"Yes, please."

Spencer smiles back and turns to head towards the kitchenette. When he comes back, cup of steaming coffee in hand, you're trying to re-arrange the chaotic mess that is your workplace as best you can. You'd never been particularly organized — your mind works differently than most people, always bouncing around from one thing to another — and even after seven years of working at the BAU, you still have trouble keeping everything in order.

And today there's something you don't often see sitting on top of the stack of books on your desk: flowers. Generic, vibrant red roses, to be specific; something straight out of a grocery store parking lot display, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with string. It’s the thought that counts, you suppose, though maybe putting a little effort would’ve been nice. There’s a little card attached that reads "Thanks for last night - Zach".

You wonder what Zach, last night’s blind date, is thanking you for. He had seemed nice enough during dinner, sure — a good conversationalist, quick-witted, easy on the eyes — but by the end of the night, you had already made up your mind that this wasn't going anywhere. You didn't let yourself think too much about the why, though. It would've led to questions you didn't want to answer.

"Here," Spencer says, bringing you back to the present, and you take the coffee cup from him. His brow furrows as his gaze trails downwards, until it settles on the small bundle of flowers.

You know he had already noticed it earlier, when he walked into the bullpen this morning, but he hadn't said anything then.

"You're a lifesaver," you say, ignoring the way your stomach churns, and take a sip of coffee. Unsurprisingly, it's exactly the way you like it.

Spencer hums, doesn't look away. "Did you...have a good time last night?" he asks carefully, almost cautiously.

"How did you..."

"Garcia," he replies simply, before you can even finish the question.

"Ah...I should've guessed."

Of course she would tell Spencer — she tells everyone everything, but especially Spencer, who has become her best friend over the past several years.

"Sorry," he says sheepishly.

"Don't be, you have nothing to apologize for." You shake your head, let out a light laugh. "It's Garcia we're talking about."

"Right," he agrees, but it sounds absent, somehow.

And suddenly his gaze flickers up, catches yours. You inhale sharply. Something is there, in the way he's looking at you, in the way his lips part slightly as if he wants to say something, but no words come out. You stare back at him, your heart skipping a beat, and you wonder if he can see it; the pounding of your pulse under the smooth, bare skin of your throat. Or worse, the reason behind it.

"So...did you?"

"Hm?" You blink, confused, still somewhat dazed from just looking into those warm, golden-brown eyes. "Did I what?"

"Have a good time," Spencer repeats, with the slightest tilt of his head.

Oh. Right. The date.

"Uhh...sure, yeah, it was great," you respond, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. A little too quickly. You hope, in vain, that he doesn't notice the slight waver in your voice, the rush of color that floods your cheeks. "The guy seemed really nice, very polite."

Polite is safe. Polite doesn't betray how much of a lie this whole thing actually is.

"Polite," Spencer echoes, a strange inflection to the word that makes you almost feel defensive, like you have something to prove.

But he isn't looking at you anymore, his eyes are trained somewhere over your shoulder, on the small notecard attached to the flowers.

You'd like to disappear right now. "Okay, you got me. It was absolutely boring and dull and awkward," you blurt out in frustration. Then, quieter, almost as an afterthought: "Maybe it's me, I guess."

Spencer's brow furrows. "Why would you think that?"

Because I can't get you out of my head. Because I want things I shouldn't.

"It's complicated."

"It usually is," he mutters, "especially when feelings are involved."

You think of Maeve, because that's probably who he's thinking of, too. It still feels like a punch to the gut.

"Yeah...they have a tendency to make you do stupid things."

Things like going on dates with people you're not even remotely interested in.

"Tell me about it," Spencer says with a sigh.

A beat of silence passes between the two of you, thick and heavy, and you let your gaze fall, focus on the coffee in your hand.

"Well, at least the flowers are pretty to look at."

Another sigh — much louder, heavier — and when you look back up at him, you see him glaring daggers at the flowers, almost like they'd somehow personally offended him. He doesn't even notice you staring, you think, and there's something else on his face, in his expression, that's hard to read, even for you.

"Spence?"

He jolts, as if startled by the sudden break in the silence, and glances back over at you. "You don't even like roses," he states.

There's a sudden tightness in your chest, a pressure behind your ribs, as if someone had reached in and squeezed your lungs until the air rushed out in one big gust.

"I...they're not my favorite, no," you say slowly. "But, you know, it's the thought that counts."

That seems to snap him out of it; he shifts, runs a hand through his hair, lets out a shaky breath. "Right. Yeah. You're right. It's...the thought that counts."

His fingers fidget with the cuffs of his cardigan, the tension in his shoulders melting away.

"I would have gotten you carnations," he continues, his voice so low that you barely hear him.

"Carnations?"

"Red ones."

The coffee mug feels slippery in your hands; your palms are suddenly clammy. You're almost afraid you'll drop it. "Red ones," you echo, unable to keep the wavering note out of your voice this time.

Spencer looks at you — really looks at you — and his gaze softens, pools like honey in the light. "They're more personal."

You nod, dumbly, and your brain has already started jumping to conclusions. "Personal," you parrot again, like a broken record.

Spencer nods, hesitanting.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being selfish."

Your stomach twists itself in knots. The pounding in your ears is so loud, you wonder how Spencer can't hear it.

"You're the least selfish person I've ever met, Spence."

He sighs. "Not when it comes to you."

The confession catches you off guard, and your grip on the mug falters.

It shatters on the floor.

"Shit," you mutter, bending down to pick up the bigger pieces, only to recoil in pain as, of course, you manage to cut yourself.

It's a small nick in the flesh of your palm, red beading and trickling along the length of your hand.

"You're bleeding," Spencer says, kneeling beside you automatically.

You take a moment to glance at your hand, at the scarlet dripping onto the floor, then look back up at Spencer. "I am."

You don't know why you say it, except that he's so close — closer than usual — that you can feel the warmth radiating off him in waves, can smell the lingering scent of sort of subtle cologne.

"Hold out your hand," he says, voice slightly raspy.

You do.

His thumb brushes against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. If he notices, he doesn't say anything.

"It's not deep."

"Good to know."

"Come on," he says softly, pulling you up to stand with him. "Let's go clean that up."

You let him lead you into the kitchenette, let him rinse the blood away in the sink and press a napkin to the cut until it stops bleeding. You let him dab iodine into the wound, watch him gently wrap gauze around your hand and secure it with medical tape. You let him do it, even though you could have done it on your own, because it gives you an excuse to stay this close to him for a few seconds longer.

You're not particularly proud of it, but you let him do it.

"There," Spencer murmurs, examining his work one last time before looking back up at you. "Good as new."

"Thank you," you whisper.

"No problem."

You study each other for what feels like a minute, caught in the spell that always seems to descend upon you whenever you're in the same room together, a bubble of tension that you never seem able to break.

Then, in unison: "I should go."

Neither of you move.

"Work..."

"Yeah. I have to send these emails."

"I have...reports. To finish."

Spencer is the first to move, to start to turn around and leave. But then, without warning, you reach for him, your good hand closing around his forearm.

He stops dead in his tracks. Doesn't turn around.

You swallow hard, try to calm the racing of your heart. "Wait," you say, quietly, because anything louder would be too much in this moment. "Are you...what did you mean? Earlier, when you said you were being selfish with me."

It's silent for a few moments. You think he might not have heard you.

And then—

"You already know," is his reply. It's so quiet you can barely hear him, but it resonates, nevertheless. It echoes in your head, over and over. "You know what I meant, what I'm trying to say."

"I'm not sure."

"Yes, you are. You're smart."

"Not as smart as you," you quip, because it's easier to make a joke, to hide the quivering in your voice, the pounding in your ears. "And I don't want to assume, because if I'm wrong—"

"You're not wrong."

"—but if I am, this is going to be incredibly awkward and embarrassing and I don't think I can handle that on top of everything else."

"You won't be wrong," he repeats, with such certainty that your heart leaps in your chest.

You have to say something, anything to release the pressure that's building in the air around you.

"The problem wasn't really the flowers, you know," you confess, letting out a shaky exhale. "I would have loved even those stupid roses...if they came from you."

Spencer's posture stiffens, tense underneath your touch, and for a split second, you worry you've misread the situation entirely. That you've made a complete fool of yourself and any friendship you and Spencer had managed to cultivate over the past several years would be irreparably damaged.

But then, he turns around to face you, his gaze searching, probing. Your grip on his arm loosens, and he takes a step towards you, tentative.

"Do you mean that?"

You nod, swallowing hard, and it suddenly occurs to you that you've never been this close to Spencer before — at least, not like this, with no one else around. Not in a place where you can breathe in the subtle notes of his cologne, where you can see every freckle, every eyelash.

"Because if you do," he whispers, leaning in, his eyes locked on yours, "then you should know that I've been thinking about you for a very long time."

He waits, the pause dragging out... until you realize he's waiting for your consent.

You answer by rising up on your toes, reaching up to cradle his jaw in your hands, and pressing your lips to his.

It's soft, hesitant, a question. Spencer leans into the kiss, tilting his head slightly, and the change in angle sends a shiver down your spine, makes your knees go weak but you don't care. His hands find your waist, and you pull him even closer, until there's no space left between you.

When you finally pull away, both of you out of breath, Spencer rests his forehead against yours, lets out a contented sigh.

"Sorry," you murmur, your voice hushed. "I probably should have, um, asked first."

He laughs, and you can feel it reverberate in your chest. "I would have said yes."

You smile.

"Still, sorry."

Spencer pulls away just enough to look at you, and his gaze is so warm, so tender, that your heart aches. "Don't be, okay?" He kisses your cheek, and you let out a quiet sigh of delight. "And just so you know, I'm going to bring you carnations next time. The prettiest ones I can find."

Next time.

"I would like that."

"Good."

And this time, neither of you goes anywhere.

921 notes · View notes

street-smarts00 · 29 days

Text

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

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WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited.

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you.

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love.

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically.

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders.

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope.

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact.

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs.

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm.

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind.

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane.

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk.

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started.

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair.

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it.

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen.

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face.

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.”

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.”

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.”

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked.

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.”

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive.

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.”

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships.

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.”

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.”

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought.

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him.

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings.

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name.

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him.

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to.

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home.

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door.

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath.

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly.

“Oh.”

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips.

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled.

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was.

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms.

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head.

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need.

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache.

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered.

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck.

“Do you wanna lie down?”

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.”

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend.

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile.

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him.

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …”

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers.

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had.

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg.

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm.

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did.

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms.

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice.

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you.

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured.

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold.

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?”

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.”

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response.

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze.

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.”

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank.

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch.

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were.”

“Y/N please,” he begged.

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.”

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it.

“I was freaking out,” he blurted.

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now.

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable”

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good.

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?”

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Here we go. Flood gates.

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ”

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence.

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach.

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss.

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning.

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him.

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears.

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.”

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased.

“That too,” he chuckles.

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes.

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,”

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added.

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh.

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours.

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Tag Requests: @nomajdetective

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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Reader commenting on Spencer’s hands being cold, and he starts excitedly rambling about the best ways to heat them up, like putting them under armpits. Only to get completely thrown back when she stuffs his hands in her under boob to keep them nice and warm and strong :) <3

Your eyes are drawn to Spencer's hands when he starts curling them into fists, rapidly clenching and unclenching them in the chilly Chicago air. You're sitting cross-legged on the stoop of a witness's home, waiting for JJ to return from questioning her. She'd been uneasy with such a heavy government presence in her home, and you don't blame her for it, so you'd elected to stay outside with Reid.

"Cold, Spence?" You ask, and he nods sheepishly, his curls flying.

"I'm trying to get circulation back to my fingers," He explains, shaking his hands out for a brief second before curling them again, "Moving your fingers gets your blood flowing, but there's only so warm I can get in 30-degree weather."

You smile sympathetically at him, watching as his nails dig into his palms once more with a curl of his fingers, "Maybe we can bribe JJ to get us coffee on the way back to the precinct."

"They never give me the sugar I ask for," Spencer laments, shaking out his fingers once more, "I think they think I'm trying to steal their supply, but I really just like having eight packets in one cup."

The snort that you let out releases a puff of visible breath into the cold morning air. As it dissipates Spencer tries breathing into his hands, but his skin is still pale, nail beds dangerously close to turning purple, and you sigh resignedly.

"Come here, Spence," You hold your hands out, and he looks curiously up at you. His head tilts just barely to the side, and you're reminded of a confused puppy.

"Give me your hands," You urge, emphasizing the way that you're holding yours out. He does so without question, but you can tell that you've certainly improved circulation to his face, because his cheeks are blazing hot with a rosy blush when he obeys.

"Body heat really helps," You promise, unzipping the fabric of your FBI windbreaker. You hold both of Spencer's hands in your free hand now, but when your jacket is properly unzipped you lead his hands straight to your torso. They're posed on your ribcage, and Spencer stills, watching the way that they touch you with wide eyes.

"Under- there," You slip his hands up an inch, letting them slip into the space beneath your bra, your skin flushed with natural heat that soaks into Spencer's veins like sunlight to a wilting plant. Contrary to the body heat now flooding his limbs he's frozen, eyes wide and jaw slack as you stuff his hands beneath your chest.

"That better?" You ask, shimmying slightly in place and jostling his hands. Your bra slips further over the backs of his hands and only makes them warmer, enveloping him in even more of your body heat. He gulps, you actually see his throat bob, and nods silently, still leaned forwards to take in more of your warmth.

"Thanks," He breathes, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like he's not about to combust.

You're almost certain that his hands are barely thawed at all when JJ steps abruptly out of the front doors of the building, and her boots skid to a stop in front of you and Spencer. You glance up at her with a warm smile, but Spencer yanks his hands away, wringing them out in his lap with wide eyes.

"Uh, she was- we were just... my hands-" Spencer babbles, and the more he struggles, the more her smirk grows over her face.

"His hands were cold," You explain, reaching out to grab them once more and squeezing the barely-tepid skin, "Let's hurry and get into the car, we can turn the heat on full blast."

You've seen Spencer exhibit a mild jog while chasing unsubs, his gun held at his side like it's a bag of bricks, but he skitters to the SUV faster than you've ever seen him move, leaving you and JJ behind on the steps of the apartment building.

"So, did he put his hands there, or did you?" JJ asks, and you don't need to see her face; you know from the mirth in her voice that she's still smirking as you stand up.

"I did," You grunt, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like you're not about to combust, "He was shivering, JJ. What was I supposed to do, let him freeze to death?"

"No, no," She raises her hands in a gesture of surrender but her voice still contains that sadistic amusement, "You're right. A word of advice, though: next time, stick his hands between your thighs. It's a lot warmer down there."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

Text

The Ballad Of Dr. Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.

Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking.

In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.

He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.

You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.

It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips.

What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.

His hands on-

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you.

“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today.

The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.

There was no clean getaway.

“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”

Fuck.

Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”

“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.”

He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class.

Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university.

“Really?”

“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke.

There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.”

The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment.

“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his.

You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.

The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down.

“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point.

The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips.

“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.

This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut.

“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.

His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.

“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating.

With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open.

“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded.

“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan.

As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.

There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.

Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.

Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did.

As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Deal.”

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inkdrinkerworld · 16 days

Note

post!prison Spencer realizing you’re not always sunshiny and happy when one day he spots you crying in the hall before wiping your eyes and walking into the bullpen with your usual megawatt smile like you hadn’t been balling your eyes out five minutes before

It’s a call with your brother that really gets you started.

Spencer watches you take the phone call that starts off pleasant, you’re all smiles and then you frown, dark and full of an anger Spencer hasn’t ever seen on you.

He knows humans are capable of all emotional spectrums but it’s so foreign on your face and in your body language that he’s shocked a little still.

You walk to a secluded part of the office, hushed, rushed, heated words that Spencer feels horrible for straining his ear to listen to but it’s a strange sight.

He’s never seen you like this.

“How is that my fault? I can’t drop everything and take a plane over there every time shit hits the fan. They’re big kids now.”

What’s worse is your voice cracks and he wants desperately to rush to you, comfort you but he forces himself to stay where he is.

He strains his ear and hears you whisper,

“I’m not doing this again. I can’t be that person anymore. They’re 20, I can’t move back home just to baby them again. I’m not going to be walked all over by them anymore.”

You’re not together, you’re just friends- not super close but closer than anyone else on the team. Spencer feels like he should be comforting you when he moves to the kitchen and watches the first tear tumble down your cheek.

“Hey have you seen, Y/N?” Emily asks and Spencer turns his body to block you from view.

“She went to the bathroom, do we have a case?” He asks, stirring a pound of sugar into his coffee.

“Yeah, when she comes out tell her meet us at the jet.” She hands off a file to him and Spencer glances through the pages quickly.

Spencer watches you compose yourself, swiping at your face, fixing your hair and rolling your shoulders back.

Then he watches almost sadly, as you plaster a smile back on your face.

“Hey, Spence. Where’s everybody?” You open the fridge like you usually do and reach for the canister of whipped cream you keep tucked away.

“We have a case,” Spencer watches you shake it and spray some into your palm, connecting the dots over the many times he’s seen you do that in the last couple of months.

You’d always said it was just a, ‘pick me up’ and Spencer hadn’t thought twice about. You all have little things you do to keep you going in the job, but he realises now it’s less to do with work and more to do with your upset.

“Oh shit,” you spray another heap of cream in your palm. “I’ll get my go bag, can you fill me in while we walk, Spence?” You’re already turning to your desk, fiddling about the last draw for your go bag.

Your eyes are still a little red, and he watches you switch your contacts for glasses as soon as you get hold of the bag. “They burn a little right now,” you supply when you catch him looking and he nods like he doesn’t know the truth.

“Alright, let’s go,” he opens the case file Emily handed to him and starts, “So the unsub seems to be a woman hater? I’m not sure how no one figured him out before this is his sixth victim.”

You frown as you tuck your go-bag over your shoulder, “And the geography is all the same? No crossing state lines?”

Spencer admires how easily you slip back into work mode, but as soon as the case is over he needs to find a way to have you talk to him.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid

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incognit0slut · 12 days

Note

Just the sloppiest head ever, that’s it. Choking, gagging, etc

Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready.

Warnings: (18+) soft dom spence x inexperienced fem reader. Oral sex (male receiving while he talks you through it?), female masturbation because reader can’t help herself lol. 1.8k words a/n: this is very much self-indulgent because I need him so bad. Ty anon for requesting

"No."

You pulled away from him, shifting your weight on his lap as you peered down at him, a furrow forming on your brow. "No?"

He gently shook his head, his hands tracing up your thighs. "You're not ready yet."

You leaned back, creating some space between you, though it wasn't much given the way you were straddling him. "Wait a minute," you protested. "Since when do you get to decide if I'm ready or not? And why aren't you into it when most guys would be jumping at the chance?"

A faint smile danced on his lips. "I thought I’m the first guy you've ever been with."

"That's not the point!"

He laughed, his hands finding a firm grip on your waist. "It's not that I don’t enjoy the idea..."

"Then what's holding you back?"

He paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked into your eyes. "Because I care about you," he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "And I don't want you to feel pressured or rushed for anything we do together."

"That's what I've been trying to say," you replied. "I don't feel pressured. I want to."

He studied you, and when the silence went on, you knew you had to do something to reassure him. With a gentle sigh, you shifted closer, nestling against him, and allowed your lips to graze the sensitive curve of his neck. It was a spot you knew well, one that never failed to draw out a reaction from him. You felt the subtle hitch in his breath and smiled.

"You already went down on me yesterday and I really, really liked it," you murmured between kisses, your lips trailing further down. "Let me do the same for you."

Feeling the warmth of your breath against his skin, he let out a soft sigh, his resolve weakening.

"I..." he began, his voice catching as he struggled to find the right words.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze. "Trust me," you whispered, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest. "Let me show you how much I want this."

His eyelids drooped slightly as your hands moved down. When you paused, fingers poised right above the evident bulge in his pants, you realized you had him right where you wanted him to be.

"Come on, Spencer," you whispered, gripping him over the material of his pants, working your hand up and down his thickness. "Let me suck your cock."

He sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening on your waist as he met your gaze. What kind of man would he be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? With a low groan, he finally gave in, his resolve crumbling as he nodded in silent agreement.

"Okay," he breathed out, his voice heavy with need. "Okay, just... only if you're sure."

With a reassuring smile, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm sure," you whispered against his skin.

As if a switch had been flipped, you felt the tension in him dissipate entirely. His touch on your waist was firm, sending a shiver down your spine, and the look in his eyes had you already feeling a flush of heat between your legs.

"Get on your knees."

Your breath caught in your throat at his tone, a thrill coursing through you at the sheer dominance in his demeanor. Without hesitation, you obeyed, slipping off the couch and sinking to your knees before him. The intensity of his gaze sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he reached for his belt.

As he undid his belt, the anticipation between you intensified, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he freed himself from the confines of his pants. Your pulse quickened as your gaze lingered on him, drinking in every detail, every inch of him, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, your fingers trailing lightly over his length, feeling the heat emanating from him. "I..." you started, your voice wavering slightly. "I might be bad at this."

His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Do you want me to talk you through it?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his offer. "Yes, please," you replied. "I want to make this good for you."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. "You already make it good just by being here," he murmured. "But I'll guide you, okay?"

His words melted away your nerves. "Okay," you whispered. "What do I do first?"

"Start with gentle kisses," he instructed, his voice low and soothing. "Explore the tip with your lips."

Following his guidance, you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his length, feeling the tension in him building with each tender touch. You focused on every sensation, savoring the moment as you allowed yourself to immerse in the way he pulsed underneath your touch.

"Good," he murmured, his breath hitching as he looked down at the way you were gripping his cock, your mouth exploring every inch of him. "Now, use your tongue. Start with light strokes."

Encouraged by his words, you followed his guidance. With gentle strokes, you explored the sensitive skin with your tongue. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath followed by a low groan that sent a shiver down your spine.

His reaction spurred you on as you increased the pressure of your strokes. His hands found their way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he held you close. "That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Just like that."

A sense of power washed over you as you continued to tease him with your tongue, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath you. You marveled at the effect you had on him, and with a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you licked him from the base to the tip, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

His reaction was immediate, a low groan escaping his lips as he arched into your touch. "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out. "Do you think you can handle more?"

Your heart raced at the question, excitement coursing through your veins. "Yes," you replied. "Please."

He guided your lips over to his tip. "Now take me in your mouth."

You leaned in, allowing him to slide into your parted lips. The sensation was intoxicating, the taste of him filling your senses as you eagerly accepted him into your mouth. His hands gently guided you, encouraging you to find a rhythm that worked for both of you and before you knew it, your head was bopping up and down his length.

With your hand already gripping him, you began pumping up and down as you sucked him, eliciting deep groans and breathy moans from him in return. "God, your mouth feels so good," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Look up at me."

Obeying his command, you lifted your gaze to meet his, locking eyes with him. He looked down at you with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, your cheeks flushed, and lips stretched wide around his girth. Driven by the desire to give him more pleasure, you sank your mouth further, keeping your eyes locked on his as his tip hit the back of your throat.

The sensation made you gag, your throat burning with the effort, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. But you pushed through before finally pulling back, a string of saliva trailing from your lips as you gasped for air, and despite the discomfort, the look of satisfaction on his face made it all worth it.

His head fell back against the couch, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "I don't think I can last much longer," he admitted, his voice strained.

Feeling a surge of pride at the effect you had on him, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his cock again, "Then let go. I want to taste you."

"Yeah?" he breathed, looking down at you. "You'd let me come in your mouth?"

Your tongue flickered over his tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. "I think I'd let you do anything to me by now."

He let out a sound of pleasure, and without hesitation, you took him into your mouth again. You set a steady pace, moaning around his shaft as spit dribbled past the corners of your lips and down your chin. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises as you took as much of him down your throat.

With each throb of him in your mouth and every intoxicating sound he made, the ache between your thighs intensified until it became unbearable. Unable to resist any longer, you let your free hand slide between your thighs, slipping underneath your skirt.

Surprised at how wet your panties were, you wasted no time in spreading your arousal everywhere, your fingers finding your clit with ease. You spread your legs further on the floor, arching your back as you pleasured yourself, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of your mouth along his cock.

Spencer's breath hitched as he noticed your dainty hand between your legs, the sight of you touching yourself while eagerly sucking and bobbing your head up and down his length sending him to the edge. He couldn't hold back any longer.

He tightened his grip on your hair, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. His release finally washed over him in waves, his body trembling with the force of it as he emptied himself into your waiting mouth, and you swallowed the hot spurts down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him.

It didn't take long for you to feel the familiar coil of pleasure building within you. With his release still fresh on your tongue, you shifted your focus to your own pleasure, your fingers picking up the pace as you sought your own climax. And then, with a sharp gasp, you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you.

You finally released him when your orgasm subsided, slumping over his lap. He was quick to bring you up on the couch, a tender smile on his lips as he looked down at you. "Did you make yourself come?"

Feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks, you nodded breathlessly, unable to meet his gaze. "Yeah..."

His smile softened further, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured you. But before you could respond, you felt his other hand slipping inside your skirt, tugging down your panties.

Your eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

"I think it's only fair," he replied as he pulled your panties down your legs. Then, to your surprise, he got to his knees, positioning himself between your thighs as he pushed your legs apart. "I want to taste you too."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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pathologicalreid · 19 days

Text

hair care

spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff

w/c: 481

this is based on a tiktok i saw where someone's bf bought the stuff they use in the shower and i thought! spencer would do that!

“Where are you going?” Spencer asked you groggily from where he had been sleeping in his bed. He was blinking at you while he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom.

You were hobbling around his room, trying to pull socks on over your feet. In all honesty, they were probably Spencer’s socks, but you hadn’t wanted to turn the light on. “I have to go home before work,” you told him, keeping your voice low, “I need to wash my hair.”

In the darkness, you saw your boyfriend narrow his eyes at you, “I bought your hair stuff for you.”

Stilling your movements, you dropped your half-socked foot to the ground, “You bought my hair stuff?” It had caused problems since you started spending the night at Spencer’s, you tended to be very particular about your hair products, and you didn’t like to stray from your routine.

“I wanted you to be able to wash your hair here,” Spencer offered, wiping a hand down his face.

Suspicious, you went into the ensuite and opened the shower door. Your sleuthing uncovered the fact that he had in fact purchased all of your haircare supplies – even the things you used once you got out of the shower. “Babe,” you said, still minding your volume, “some of this stuff is expensive.”

You heard him shuffling around on the sheets, but you couldn’t totally see him in the dark, “I know - when I told Morgan he told me I was whipped.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat down on the ledge of the bed. Derek didn’t have any hair to wash, so in your mind, his opinion on the subject didn’t matter. “You have to let me pay you back,” you insisted. Really, some of the products were getting out of hand expensive.

Spencer reached out and pulled you further onto the bed, “I don’t have to let you do anything,” he chided softly. “Besides, now you don’t have to leave at four in the morning to go wash your hair across town.” As usual, his reasoning was sound. You lived on the other side of D.C., and even further from Quantico, making it no surprise that the two of you had been ending up at his place at an increasing frequency.

“But you don’t get anything out of it,” you said, pouting slightly, despite the fact that he couldn’t see your expression in the dark.

Dragging you back down to the bed with him, Spencer corrected you, “Now you don’t have to wake me up when you get up at four in the morning to go wash your hair on the other side of town.”

You sighed, “I always try to be really quiet,” you insisted. You would never purposefully wake him up at four in the morning.

He hummed sleepily, “and yet, you’re really bad at it.”

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 4 months

Text

Secretly Mine

Summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge

Category: Fluff

Couple: Spencer/BAU Fem!Reader

Content warnings: None

Word count: 1.5k

Eight months have passed since your arrival at the BAU. You’re an integral part of the team. Hotch has been sure to let you know. You’ve stood out with your eye for detail at certain crime scenes, outshining even some of the team’s more seasoned members. Luckily, the academy’s rumors about the Quantico team’s bond have rang true time and time again, so competition and jealousy never became an issue. It only made them respect you and even open up to you.

One person who has particularly opened up to you is the genius of the group, Spencer Reid. The secret you learned: he’s a gentle kisser. Almost childishly chaste, but nothing seemed more fitting for his personality. What was surprising was the setting of your first kiss.

New York City police invited the team to investigate the terrorist cell killing random people across the city. Their attacks grew more volatile by the time you all arrived, placing bombs on government vehicles. One of these bombs hurt Hotch, and SSA Joyner did not survive the same blast. The results could have been worse, considering.

Your team faced the problem of uncertainty regarding who (if anyone) had been injured at that moment. Spencer was with Rossi at the police station while the rest of you were on the ground. That damn terrorist organization interfered with signals and transmissions all the time, and this was no different. You, by your luck, were the most difficult to get in contact with, despite being safe at Federal Plaza. You met with the team when it was safe to do so and all targeted areas were cleared. Most of you sighed in relief. Garcia even held your face, as if to make sure you were real, alive and, breathing.

Spencer held your face too, but not in the same way. You both took refuge by the water cooler, surprisingly where no one was present in a once-crowded New York City police station. You talked about what happened, Hotch’s current condition, and how long to expect these nerves to last. Your nerves didn’t settle, though, when Spencer’s knuckles brushed your cheek as he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You didn’t blame these nerves, though, when you leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Spencer was cute, obviously, but workplace relationships are highly unprofessional and even a liability, if the case they just survived wasn’t enough proof of that. You’d think (well, you knew actually) Spencer of all people would know this. He knows everything. When you had a case in Baltimore involving the Ravens, he told you their name came from Edgar Allan Poe’s most famous poem. Then he explained the detailed theories surrounding his untimely death. Spencer believes it has something to do with cooping, whatever that means, you dared not to ask. There’s nothing he doesn’t consider.

So, Spencer must have considered all the odds of professional behavior in that moment by the water cooler since his lips delicately brushed yours. It was barely a kiss at first, until he leaned in for another, to where you could feel the warmth of his mouth and felt that he could do with some lip exfoliant. The last part you didn’t care about because it was practically over before it began. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you stayed there for a while, not touching or talking. Then Morgan told the team to pack up and get ready to go home.

Throughout the past month, you and Spencer have shared many kissing sessions. Not at work, though, because you both still have some sense. Kissing Spencer, though, tends to not leave you with much sense. His gentleness is not a front. His touches are tender and he’s never pushed you beyond your limits. It’s a good thing then that he’s a gentleman, so he earned kisses through dinners, movies, and day trips. It was something to look forward to in between grueling cases.

And it wasn’t even off work when Spencer would bring joy to you. There was a case recently in North Carolina that shook you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to mention what specifically, as it’s something you haven’t spoken about in a long time, but the team picked up on it quickly. They checked on you and even asked if you needed to sit out. You powered through and came to a satisfactory (for lack of a better word) conclusion. Afterward, Spencer invited you to ice cream. It was a welcoming change of scenery, despite the ice cream place being called Jack the Dipper. It was hilariously fitting, so it really wasn’t an issue. Spencer didn’t ask about what happened or what made you feel so disturbed. Throughout the night, he just made sure to ask if you were okay.

You haven’t been okay for a while. Not because of that case, but because it’s been three months now and you are still running around with Spencer without the team’s knowledge. The team might feel cheated (and Hotch might be pissed) because they are not aware of this information, but the uneasiness of all this was starting to settle in. The fear, the worry that this might just be all for nothing. Outside of the office, he shows that he cares. He knows things about you that you haven't revealed in some time. And apparently he has done the same. Bruises from harsh kisses around your bodies linger under work clothes from a weekend in, and the team has been none the wiser. And you’re not sure if you’re as okay with it as you thought you were.

The team went out to the bar on a Thursday, celebrating a government holiday the night before (i.e. a three-day weekend). The team took shots, bet money, threw darts, and Emily ended up with the most by closing. You would’ve coughed up more cash throughout the night if you were confident in your bets.

Spencer barely looked at you. Didn’t brush your hand or even stand near you for too long, like you had the plague or whatever Poe died from. It didn’t help the feeling in your core, and neither did the walk home. Morgan drove Garcia home, Hotch with Rossi, and J.J. with Emily. And of course, Spencer with you. When J.J. drove away after boasting about avoiding a ticket on an expired meter, Spencer didn’t hesitate to reach for your hand. It was nice, and as the weather grew colder, it was a welcomed warmth. But how could it not feel at least a little sour?

His apartment wasn’t far from here, so you walked. Your hands were laced the entire time, but he didn’t breathe a word and you couldn’t tell if that should make you feel better or worse.

It wasn’t until you climbed the steps to his door that he asked, “Are you staying the night?”

You swallowed. Unlike Emily, Garcia, and Rossi, you were on the side of tipsy rather than in dire need of a toilet to bury your head into. “Sure.” You said. “If you want me to.”

“Yeah,” He said, fiddling with his key and lock. “Of course I want you to.”

He finally opens the door and turns on the living room light. You barely had time to put your purse down before his lips were on yours. They were still chapped like the first time, except you could forgive that because of the growing cold outside. His hands hold your waist, they creep to your back. You couldn’t help but lean in, away from the door he pressed you into. It was when Spencer moaned in your mouth that you broke away. Catching your breath, you try putting together a sentence. But breathing is difficult right now for both of you. Spencer’s eyes are lazy and his breath still lingers with a scent of the mint gum he spit out when he showed up to the bar.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think it’s the start to an actual apology. “I was trying to stay patient.” He kisses you again, softly. And you kiss him back still. He moans again. “I want you.”

You swallow again. Your throat is so dry. “Spencer, I—”

“I want to tell them.” He interrupts.

You blink, it quickens as you take in the words. “What?”

His hands cup your face. He brushes the messy bangs from your forehead. “I want to tell them. About this. About us. I just…” He trails off. That is not something you’re used to seeing. “I want more time with you.”

As Spencer’s words sank in, you felt a mix of apprehension and longing, wondering just what could go wrong. A lot, in fact. But you have to believe he’s being honest. Why wouldn’t he be?

And with a soft smile, you reached for his hand and met his gaze. “I want that too,” you said, feeling the weight of it finally being lifted off your chest. “I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it earlier. I was being selfish.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But I would. Because it’s true. But that changes now.” The look on his face, the fully sober look on his face. He’s all in. “I will tell them you’re my girlfriend.”

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