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#spencer reid x jealous! reader
the-au-thor · 3 months
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Hi!! I have a request for a Spencer Reid x fem reader!!
Can you do something like reader also works at the BAU and they both are in love with each other but have never said anything, and Spencer goes on a date or flirts with a girl when the team is out at a bar or something and reader gets sad and jealous. She like leaves cause she’s annoyed and angry. And Spencer is confused why she’s upset? And eventually confronts her and this leads to feelings being revealed and it ends in cute fluff??
Hey hun, hope you're having a great time! I am a sucker for friends-to-lovers and jealous friends motifs. Thanks for the request. I wrote something, I hope you like it, I wrote it last night cause I couldn't sleep.
The Secret Game and the shy Girl | Spencer reid x fem!Reader
Word: 1.6 k
Warning: Typical cm topics. Nothing gore
Caliope's Bar was bustling. It was surprisingly calm for a bar; usually, it was packed, but people calmly occupied the tables, enjoying dinner with a couple of beers or fancier drinks. The karaoke didn't start until around 10, and the dance floor opened at midnight. Spencer didn't stay until that late hour; he usually left with you when you stepped down from the small stage, carefully placing your electroacoustic guitar on its stand.
In Quantico, it was no secret that you loved music. While your father was a retired cop, your mother had been a talented backup singer in Las Vegas before becoming a nurse. They inevitably passed on their interests to you, ensuring you couldn't escape the excitement whenever you had the chance to sing and let others listen. Although the fact that you sang at that bar had been a secret for a while.
Today was a special day, not just because it was the day of the week you came here and had the courage to play the guitar and sing a couple of songs for half an hour, but also because it was the celebration of your adoption. When you first arrived at the BAU, you were so shy that you could barely speak more than two words. You usually approached Hotchner and whispered your thoughts on each case, avoiding verbalizing them in front of the entire team. After a while, you recognized that Hotch had shown you a lot of patience, as had the rest of your colleagues and friends. The truth was that Hotch had identified in you resilience, talent, and a strong sense of ethics; he just needed you to believe you could do more than the office work you were used to in your previous job in the cybercrime department. That's why he asked Spencer to help you; both had a lot in common, being young and somewhat socially awkward, but Spencer had been in Quantico much longer, and Hotchner knew he could help you break out of your shell. To be honest, Spencer would have helped you even if Hotchner hadn't asked; he had observed how challenging it was for you to adapt to the team and the enormous effort it took for you to go out into the field and chase psychopaths. As their friendship grew, so did Spencer's admiration for you, discovering new facets of your personality that you struggled to reveal. It took a year for Spencer to learn about your adoption, and another year for the team to find out and want to be part of that celebration. By the third and fourth years in the BAU, that tradition had become much more organic and easier for you, someone whose sociometer didn't allow too many social commitments.
There was a night in your first year as a BAU member when Spencer followed you out of childlike curiosity from the offices to Caliope's bar. He didn't expect to find you singing a song by The Carpenters under a dim spotlight, but there you were. After your performance, with flushed cheeks and trembling like jelly, you introduced Caliope, the owner of the place and your best friend, and made him swear to keep the secret. Spencer respected that; every time you decided to open up to the team, it was on your own terms, and Spencer knew you would be comfortable when the time came to share those little details in your life that made you special.
Both remembered that conversation after you stepped down from the stage that night.
"Hey, hey," Caliope stopped you from the counter. "The Carpenters?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed you a chamomile tea in a recyclable mug.
You accepted it nodding.
"Uh, yeah. It's my parents' favorite band. Does it sound bad?"
Caliope vehemently denied.
"Not at all."
Taking your second sip of tea, you raised it with a smile.
"Thanks for the free tea. You do know I don't play here for free food, right?" you asked.
Caliope raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Oh, no queenie" she denied using the nickname she had given you since she met you "Not today. This is an invitation from the curious not ugly man who's been watching you since you arrived"
You turned, surprised, following Caliope's gaze, and found — not just eyes — but Spencer Reid's eyes surrounded by a purple scarf around his neck, sitting elegantly and eccentrically at the farthest table in the bar. Then, you sent him a serious look that Caliope immediately caught.
"Should I call the police?" she hesitated clumsily.
You shook your head.
"No, it's the police" then you smiled to reassure her " I know him."
You walked towards Spencer, seeing him somewhat nervous, as if guilty of eating the last cookie from the bag.
"Good performance up there" he greeted." I didn't know you could sing"
You observed him in silence and shook your head slowly.
"I hadn't told anyone at work. It's just a hobby..." you stammered "...What are you doing here?"
Spencer looked a bit more nervous, then fiddled with one of the laces of his converse while looking at the ground.
"I..." then his voice almost disappeared "... I followed you because I was going to suggest we could take the subway together since we both go the same But then I got curious about where you were going. I promise when I saw you enter the cafe, I thought, 'Okay. She's in a safe place. This is when I leave'" he looked at you honestly "And then I liked the place, and I thought it would probably be good to run into you and say it was just a coincidence."
That caught you by surprise. That didn't sound like Spencer at all. Not knowing what to say, you looked at your chamomile tea and heard Spencer clear his throat.
"Yeah. Since it's late, I thought something caffeine and theine-free would be much better"
You nodded at Spencer's explanation and silently sipped the infusion.
"It's true. It is"
You saw him press his lips with discomfort, and something seemed to bother him.
"Please don't be bothered by this. I never do this, really. I understand we are also colleagues. And now I feel like I intruded into your private life"
You interrupted.
" First, no. Except for Callie over there, I have no friends. And second, please, don't keep justifying it because it somehow makes it worse" you paused and smiled, not really feeling the smile, but trying to be friendly " I have to go home. Don't worry about this"
You said your goodbyes and left the place with your hands buried in the pockets of your jacket.
"Wait. I'm really sorry" you heard him behind you.
"You've already said that!" you replied without turning to him, while you continued walking.You heard his steps behind you diminish until he reached your side.
"Seriously. I didn't mean to intrude — he said, gently wrapping his arm around yours.Both stopped, and you recoiled, almost as a natural reaction, making Spencer take a step back and let go of you. That obviously surprised him, but he didn't say anything.
"It doesn't matter now. It's not a state secret. Just, what? did you discover that I play the guitar and sing decently? That's it. Seriously" you kept walking, and Spencer decided to accompany your steps.
"I'm your friend"
That statement stopped you in your tracks. You looked directly into his eyes with a surprised look.
"What?"
"Yeah. You're my friend. That's how I see you," he clarified almost shyly. "Although friends don't keep secrets, but we can work on that," he said with so much confidence that you could feel the walls around you crumbling.
After that, Spencer suggested the plan of revealing a secret from time to time, even if it was tiny and of little importance. He never pressured you, though, and that made you feel safe. A couple of months ago, you had managed to tell your team about your hobby when you announced that Caliope had offered you a table with free snacks and drinks for the anniversary of your adoption, and everyone was invited.
You had been adopted at the age of 12, which meant you had spent much of your life in foster home and temporary homes with guardians who had accepted you more for government benefits than out of a kind and giving heart. You knew that was the main reason why your shyness was a huge personal enemy. When your parents adopted you, you came to your new home with many reservations. What kind of people adopt an almost teenager when they could easily adopt a baby and raise it without all the traumas and problems you carried? You had been in therapy because you couldn't speak more than two words in a sentence, and you brought with you a bunch of deeply ingrained habits that you no longer had to carry out; your parents genuinely loved you and wouldn't send you back to the orphanage for breaking a plate or not making your bed perfectly. Although you had created a connection with them and felt comfortable around them, it was still difficult for you to interact with the world. Your parents made an effort to plan barbecues with your father's entire police department and instill in you the confidence to earn your own money and step out of your comfort zone. That helped you take risks; you went to college in a place far from New York at Caltech, then joined the FBI, and suddenly you found yourself in a job interview at Hotchner's office. You had been alone, and the weight of the sudden responsibility that your job required hit your shoulders hard; you had no idea, however, that Spencer Reid would be right by your side all the time to make that weight lighter.
Obviously, you would fall in love with him.
Due to your history, it was difficult for you to give your heart a chance to risk feeling something for a guy, and because of your personality, it was difficult for a guy to even get close to you and decide to be your friend. Spencer broke those walls and also built a bridge for the rest of the team to cross and get to know you.
You had let him in; he helped you with your little aversion to kids. You went from feeling terribly uncomfortable with them to not knowing how you could live without Henry and Mike. He knew about your fascination with compost and Californian worms without thinking for a minute that it was disgusting and that you were a weirdo. He had even entered your kitchen and followed every instruction from the recipe book your mother had given you but that you had never used because you were very bad at cooking.In retrospect, you opened the doors of your life, your mind, and practically let him into your heart with a welcoming committee.
And it was so damn painful. Especially because he was beautiful, brilliant in more ways than intellectual, and an excellent match, and even if he didn't realize it, other girls did. And the frustrating part was that you were all too aware of the female attention he received.
"Listen; no talking about work tonight," Penelope threatened from her seat while urgently drinking a piña colada through a straw.
You had stepped down from the stage a few minutes ago and sat at the table with your friends. You had mare your own version of "Child Of Mine," the anthem your parents had decided to dedicate to you and the song that had become your favorite since then.
"Olivia, Deacon," Will drew your parents' attention as he hugged J.J from his neck. "A couple of days ago, we celebrated Henry's birthday. Do you know what he asked for as a gift?"
"From your expression, I'm going to guess it wasn't a scale model train," Derek, Who couldn't attend to the party replied with a curious expression.
Will raised a half-smile and shook his head.
"It wasn't a scale model train or an animatronic dinosaur, no."
"It was a gardening and composting kit," J.J answered, making your parents laugh.
"He spent half an hour lecturing us on the structure of a cocoon," Emily drank from her drink and looked at the ceiling. "Ah, I just wanted to eat cake," she recalled, also reminiscing about her frustration, making you laugh.
"I think we owe that to our dear girl here," Rossi pointed to you with his glass and proceeded to make his traditional toast.
Spencer watched your cheeks change color to a nervous pink and lower your gaze, causing your lashes to brush your cheekbones.
He knew why those little bugs fascinated you so much; daily they did essential work for the ecosystem that no one saw and laid thousands of tiny eggs protected by a cocoon that enveloped them until they were ready to hatch. Those characteristics made you unconsciously identify with them.
His eyes studied you from top to bottom, enjoying the microscopic reactions that only he, because he knew you so well, could see, and he felt somewhat overwhelmed. Lately, this happened to him frequently; he even considered getting medical exams again to check that everything was fine. Maybe he just needed to lift himself a bit.
"Pizza and strawberry juice?" He offered, knowing that under no circumstances would you drink alcohol.You looked up at him as the rest listened to your father tell a story from his years in the police.
"I can go, don't worry," Spencer said.
"Spencer, I can do it, it's not a problem" you replied.
Spencer raised a small smile and unconsciously, for a brief moment, placed his hand on yours.
"No problem as well, I'll go order and be back in a minute," he promised and quickly walked to the counter where your friend was talking to a few clients.
You watched his back with a somewhat lost look. You repeated to yourself over and over that you had to try to see yourself as he did: his friend, nothing more.
Of course, your emotions had decided something completely different.
You averted your gaze from Spencer and decided to make an effort to engage in the conversation at the table to distract yourself for a while. The "minute" turned into half an hour, and then you realized Spencer still hadn't returned with the juice and slice of pizza he had promised you. You searched for him throughout the bar until you found him at Caliope's counter, confidently pulling a coin from the ear of a fascinated girl sitting there.
The elegantly shaped woman, sporting heels that only accentuated her already lengthy legs, held a martini in one hand and had Spencer's full attention in the other. He animatedly spoke to her, occasionally touching a strand of her hair while asking her questions about something that seemed to greatly excite him.
You observed yourself, feeling overly aware of all your flaws and the fact that, of course, Spencer wasn't by your side at the moment. He was too busy performing his coin trick again with the unknown woman.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a tight knot in your stomach, pulling your guts, remembering the scene you just wanted to escape from. Spencer was charming, and when he talked about something that interested him, his eyes shone and magnetized the area, so much that there was no other option but to gravitate around him, unable to deny him attention. This time was no exception; Spencer's charisma stealing the attention of the captivating woman with a perfect impeccable smile.
Jealousy, like an unexpected storm, seized your veins, pulling at them and tensing your body. Involuntary glances towards Spencer and the captivating brunette revealed your internal turmoil. Spencer's subtle flirting gestures turned into a vivid picture, leaving an indelible mark on you.
Panic surged through you; you were at a table full of profilers, your parents being the best in the field, even though they had never studied it, but they would analyze you perfectly because they just knew you that good. They would read you; you had to leave there quickly before they noticed, and could only feel pity for you.
"I'll get some fresh air," you whispered confidently to your mom.
She knew that social situations easily drained you, so she wouldn't suspect. You stood up, trying to appear natural, and walked away from the scene that systematically broke your heart, making you want to confront Spencer even though he owed you nothing. He was single, and you were just his best friend.
You took a deep breath once outside, running your fingers through your hair, trying not to lose your composure. You had to leave, right? Invent an excuse; a stomach virus or something. You could pretend something like that without them realizing you were faking. You just had to seem convinced.
Outside, the air was cold in contrast to the boiling emotions within you. You tried to calm yourself, and when you thought you had succeeded, you turned to re-enter the bar, only to collide with Spencer, who was hurrying out with a concerned look that didn't relax until his eyes met yours.
"Are you okay? You left in a hurry, and I got worried," he said.
You bit the inside of your cheek, but that didn't stop you from responding with too much harshness, "I'm fine. I just needed some air. I'm surprised you noticed me leave; you seemed very comfortable."
Spencer looked surprised. You had never spoken to him like that, and he couldn't find a logical reason for it.
"Comfortable? What are you talking about?"
You lowered your gaze. Of course, Spencer Reid wouldn't be aware of his own flirting.
"With the girl at the bar. You left for a slice of pizza and didn't come back" That seemed to make Spencer piece together part of the puzzle, and he genuinely looked embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, I just got distracted."
You wanted to yell at him and drag him away from the bar, but instead, you muttered an almost emotionless "ah."
"I'm sorry for lingering at the bar."
"You know? I think the fresh air hasn't done anything. I must have caught a virus or something. I'll get my things," you excused yourself, knowing you couldn't have acted less convincingly.
"Maybe it's just fatigue. Let's go for your pizza, and you'll see that you'll feel better," he said with a repentant tone.
You shook your head without looking at him.
"No, no. It's not that. Seriously, don't worry. Go back to the girl, and I..." you took a difficult breath, searching for air, "You go back to the girl, and I'll get my things."
Concerned, he might have sworn he saw tears starting to well up in your eyes, triggering alarms inside him. What was happening?
"What? No! I'll take you home. I'm done with her anyway."
That made you feel nauseous. What did that mean? He had finished talking because they had exchanged numbers, and he no longer needed to keep charming her, treating her like a human ATM. He could charm her on their upcoming date, or...?You furrowed your brow.
"You're done with her?"
"Yes. She's a friend of Caliope. She joked about adding a magic show to the bar nights, and her friend asked me to teach her the coin trick to use it to get a date."
You blinked, stunned by that revelation, and looked up at Spencer, who wore the most innocent expression a man of his age could have. That made you forget your distress for a few seconds.
"Spencer..." you called him, "she was just flirting with you."
He blinked quickly, confused. "No, she..."
"She asked you to teach her a trick to flirt because she was flirting with you," you clarified, realizing that all this time Spencer was genuinely teaching a trick to an unknown girl while she genuinely thought she was doing a good job of flirting with him.
That simple explanation seemed to have a clarifying effect on Spencer. His cheeks turned slightly pink. Surely, he felt like a fool.
But here, the only fool was you. You had fallen in love with your best friend and had made a scene of jealousy without justification. What's worse, even though Spencer wasn't interested in the stranger this time, someday, someone who capture his attention would appear, someone he would want to be with. You would have to step back and watch as your best friend, the love of your life, was happy with someone else. You would lose him before even have him for a stranger who he would love dearly. You didn't know if you could bear it.
Spencer observed your face, almost able to imagine all the gears turning inside you. You looked upset and embarrassed. He wondered what you could possibly be thinking. He knew you well and had never seen you so distressed. You didn't want to look him in the eyes, and you weren't sure if you could handle that.No. He needed to fix whatever he had ruined so that you would look at him again with your precious eyes. He saw your guilty expression and accusatory gaze, and then something suddenly clicked. Spencer's heart took a sudden leap.
"Don't tell me I missed the story of your adoption. It's my favorite."
You shook your head, grateful that Spencer changed the subject, but your masochistic side wanted him to keep investigating. That would be the only way Spencer would know how you truly felt.
"No, Dad was telling eberybody the story when he discovered a drug cartel operating in an abandoned gym.
"Spencer nodded in silence, genuinely relieved. "Great. I love the story of your adoption, especially because your dad always adds a new detail."
You shook your head. "I'm sure he makes them up," you replied with a half-smile.
Spencer chuckled. "Whatever. He's good at telling stories," he said, seeing you sigh and nod slowly.
"Yeah, he is. Let's go inside," you said gently. "Maybe we're still in time to hear some of his new creative liberties."
You made a smooth move, but Spencer didn't release his grip on your arm. Instead, he held you with a little more firmness, earning one of your confused looks.
"Hey. A secret of mine for one of yours," he used the phrase he always used to get you to open up and confide something you wanted to tell him but couldn't find a way to.
You furrowed your brow."I... have nothing to—"
"Okay, how about this? I'll tell you my secret first."
You furrowed your brow with curiosity, still confused about what Spencer wanted to achieve with all this. So you nodded to understand.
Spencer looked directly at you. "I think you don't have a virus, and instead, you felt jealous."
Your cheeks turned red, and mortified, you just wanted to disappear.
"Spencer," you pleaded, closing your eyes in embarrassment, "please, let's go inside."
Spencer pressed his lips with excitement, feeling his heartbeats so strongly he could almost hear them in his ear. His hand traveled to your chin, touching your soft skin and directing your face towards him.
You resisted opening your eyes, and you seemed genuinely affected.
"Wait, I haven't finished telling you my secret," you moved away from him almost abruptly, trying to escape from that situation with the least possible damage. He called your name, trying to stop you.
You turned towards him, the tip of your nose beginning to blush; the first symptom that you might soon cry, and he wanted to clarify the situation before it got worse.
"No, Spencer. I won't stay here to hear something I don't need you to say."
He sighed. "Please, angel, just... trust me."
For some reason, that request broke your heart, and the irrational fear that you would leave there with his feelings hurt tore you apart inside. But he looked at you pleadingly, and the gentleness of his request broke down your protective barrier. You didn't say anything, but you didn't leave, so Spencer took it as a green light to keep talking.
"I wasn't flirting with her. Seriously. And I'll tell you why; here's the secret," he took a step towards you but still wasn't close enough. He seemed nervous but didn't hesitate for a second when the next words left his mouth, "I can't flirt with anyone else because the only person I want to do it with is you."
That revelation left you completely stunned. Your lips parted in surprise, and nothing came out of your mouth for a couple of long seconds.
"I... you," you murmured, unable to believe that he had actually said that, "don't joke with me," you pleaded in a thin voice.
He shook his head seriously, and it seemed like he hadn't finished telling you the secret because he kept talking.
"And I want to flirt with you because the truth and the secret are that I love you."
And yes, that's how a person falls apart, piece by piece. Your chest felt too small for your heart, which seemed to be growing inevitably inside you.
It wasn't possible that he had actually said that. He watched you at the same safe distance and raised his eyebrows, hoping you would say something, hope filtering through his gaze.
"Do you have any secrets to tell me?"You looked down at the pavement, not sure if you could move. Your feet were anchored to the ground, and finally, you nodded, trying to find the strength to speak.
"Yes," you admitted, adjusting your hair and clearing your throat as you tried to maintain a pose and say more than one word, "yes, I have a secret," you clarified, looking directly into his eyes with a burst of courage, "I also want you to flirt with me, and-and flirt with you," you blinked rapidly, "because I've been in love with you for a long time now, and I really don't know what to do with that."
Spencer watched you slowly with studious slowness, and finally, a satisfied little smile appeared on his face, slowly rising and with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He approached you, circling your lower back, and his breath collided with you.
"I do know what to do," he replied confidently, and then closed the remaining centimeters that separated you to give you a kiss that both had waited a long time to happen.
The kiss carried a quiet intensity, as if time stood still for both of them. Spencer's tenderness was a silent promise that he was willing to navigate through your complexities with patience and care. His touch, a soothing balm, erased the doubts that had persisted in the shadows of your mind for the past few years.
Upon parting, the street seemed to exhale a collective sigh. Spencer's gaze radiated a newly discovered warmth, and you, with your heart echoing the unspoken feelings, realized that sometimes, in the simplicity of a kiss, truths could be expressed more eloquently than words. The night air carried the weight of that shared revelation, and under the embrace of the lamppost light, Spencer and you looked at each other breathlessly.
"I think we're really missing my father's story right now," you whispered, raising your hand to Spencer's face at last, satisfying your eternal hunger to touch him.
He smiled, taking your hand and kissing your palm affectionately.
"With all due respect; right now, I'm writing one just as good as his," he said, making you laugh, "you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
You felt your cheeks warming.
"Oh, stop," you asked, but he made no promises as he took your hand and began to walk towards the bar "Now let's go for your pizza, I guess your virus left as quickly as it came."
You sighed.
"How brave" you replied, but you moved closer to his side and nestled into him as he wrapped his arm around you.
He would keep you by his side, keep you by his side for the rest of his life.
314 notes · View notes
mydearzero · 8 months
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i need jealous spencer SO BAD if he sees a guy flirting with you it would drive him crazy, no thinking, he just has to have you and everyone needs to know that you're his and only his, smut pls with praise (“good girl” 🥰) THANK U SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for the request and for reading!! I got inspired to write this as a continuation of Prey, so that's what it'll be! I hope you enjoy ♡
Predator | Professor!Spencer Reid x Reader
This is a part 2 to Prey, but can be read as a standalone.
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: You apparently have a knack for picking up FBI agents. But if prison has taught Spencer one thing, it's that sharing is not his forté.
Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, SMUT, professor/student relationship, age gap, dom/sub, dom!Spencer, sub!reader, public sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy, possessiveness, praise kink, a lil bit of degradation, exhibitionism. If I missed any warnings please tell me!
3.9K words
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You didn't know what you'd expected after finally getting what you wanted. Sure, you weren't going to date your professor. Yet, you had expected Reid to at least acknowledge what had happened between the two of you. Maybe tell you to keep it to yourself, bribe you to not tell a soul. 
Nothing. Not a peep. 
It didn't help he was only on campus sporadically. You tended to forget teaching was only his temporary side gig. He had to go back to catching bad guys. So much for your eye candy. 
You couldn't let yourself dwell on Dr. Spencer Reid. It was a one-time thing, and he probably regretted it. He'd let his desires get the best of him. 
You sighed as you applied some chapstick, checking your hair in the mirror before turning to put on your coat. It was just drinks with friends, but you were in no mood to be social. You hadn't told them about your stint with Spencer and weren't planning on telling them anytime soon. They just knew you were hung up on someone and would likely try to set you up to help you get over it. 
It wasn't fair you were even hung up about it. You didn't have feelings for him. He was just so intriguing. It was hard to see him go. You sighed and locked the door behind you, greeting your friends and getting in the car towards O'Keeffe's. 
Loud music, conversation and laughter met your ears as you entered the bar. You threw a quick glance around the crowded room, spotting an open spot at the bar. You got the attention of your friends, pointing to the free space. 
Spencer chuckled at one of Penelope's jokes, but his smile quickly dropped as he saw you walk into the team's favourite bar. You obviously hadn't spotted him, engrossed in a conversation with a girl he'd previously seen in his class. He sighed, sipping his drink and trying to pull his attention away from you. 
"What is it, Spence?" JJ inquired. He shook his head in dismissal. 
"It's nothing, just a couple of students from my class," Spencer explained, letting his eyes wander over your body just this once. 
"That doesn't look like nothing, boy wonder," Emily raised an eyebrow, following his gaze. 
"Just some unfinished business, is all. Nothing interesting." 
Nothing interesting. Spencer scoffed to himself. Even he didn't believe it. He was glad his break from the BAU was over, not having to force himself to ignore your inquiries any longer. He'd been reckless, and now he'd have to live with the consequences. The consequences haunted his mind every time he closed his eyes. 
Please, Spencer. Please.
Your desperate words echoed around his head. He should've never given in. 
"Do tell more, my inconspicuous sage," Penelope leaned her head on her crossed fingers, a big grin on her face. 
"There's nothing to tell, Garcia. They're my students," Spencer shrugged. He had a superb poker face, but nothing could be hidden from his team. 
JJ narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure it out. Emily was way ahead of her, letting out a pleasantly surprised scoff. "You animal! You slept with one of them!" 
"Will you keep it down?!" Spencer whisper-yelled. Realizing he hadn't denied it, he looked at the glass in his hands, refusing to meet the girls' eyes. 
"I see you, Casanova. Wouldn't have pegged you the type," Penelope laughed. Spencer shook his head.
"Because I'm not! It was a mistake," it was more to convince himself than the others. 
"So, which one is it?" JJ questioned, wanting to discuss his type with the girls. 
Spencer refused to look in the direction of the bar, not wanting to give anything away. "Can we please just change the subject?"
"No can do, Spence. Now, is it the tall, leggy blonde? Oh! Is it the one talking to the newbie?" That caught Spencer's attention. 
"What?" His head snapped up, turning to where you were leaning against the bar, Luke Alvez whispering in your ear. Spencer's grip on his glass tightened as he observed your pleasant smile. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out what Alvez possibly could've said to paint that smile on your face. The smile he'd wrongly presumed was reserved for him. 
"Oh, that's the one, alright." Emily laughed. Spencer snapped out of his jealous tunnel vision, trying to appear unaffected by the situation. Damn you, Alvez. He was supposed to go and get drinks, not flirt with girls barely over the legal drinking age. He crossed his arms and tried to tune in on the girls' conversation. 
"Look at him, definitely jealous. Crossed arms? Refusing to look in their direction? Chewing the inside of his mouth? Classic signs of jealousy." JJ spoke, gesturing to Spencer's body. He really regretted agreeing to go out. 
He watched you throw back the last of your drink, laughing at a story Luke told. 
"Do you have any pictures?" You asked. Luke had been telling you all about his Belgian Shepherd, Roxy. You couldn't even remember how the topic came up in the last ten minutes you'd been speaking with him. 
Luke was classically handsome. Toned, too. You admired his features, but condemned yourself for comparing them to a certain professor's. You'd approached him as he waited for his drinks, asking if you'd previously met. He looked familiar. You just couldn't put your finger on why. Surely you would've remembered meeting someone as handsome as him.
The mystery man had told you that, no, you hadn't met, but introduced himself as Luke Alvez. 
Luke showed you a few pictures of his adorable dog before continuing the conversation. "So, what do you do?" 
"I'm a full-time student, currently. You?" You got comfy leaning against the bar, enjoying his company. 
"I actually work for the FBI," Luke informed you. You nearly choked on your drink, instantly realizing why he'd been familiar. You'd done your research. 
"You wouldn't happen to be a part of the BAU?" You winced. 
"Yes, actually! How'd you kn-" 
Luke was cut off by a harsh grip on your upper arm. Your head turned, only to find the hand to be attached to the source of your dread. 
"Spencer? What are you doing here?" You tried to be casual, but you were panicking. Was he here with Luke? Or was it just a coincidence? 
"I could ask you the same thing," Spencer dejected. 
"I was actually talking to my new friend Luke here," you tugged your arm out of Spencer's grip, a challenging expression on your face. Luke looked uncomfortable, clearly already having figured out how you'd learned he was a part of the BAU. 
"Why do you have to be so fucking diff- No, you know what? I'm not doing this. Let's go," Spencer motioned towards the door of the bar. You furrowed your brows in confusion. First, he wanted nothing to do with you, and now he expected you to just leave with him without question? 
"What? No, I'm not leaving. I'm here with friends. Besides, why would I leave with you, Professor?" You questioned. Luke's expression changed to one of surprise. That definitely wouldn't have been his first guess, seeing as you'd called him 'Spencer.' 
"Is that Professor Reid? Oh my god, hi!" One of your friends finally noticed what was going down. Spencer gave her a tight-lipped smile and half-hearted raise of his hand. Their attention quickly returned to their previous conversation. 
Spencer looked agitated, taking a deep breath to recollect his bearings. "Please, just come with me," he pleaded quietly. You crossed your arms and huffed. 
"You can't go making demands, Spencer! Not when you've been ignoring me!" You tried to keep your volume down, trying to not give away what had obviously happened. 
Luke took that as his queue to leave, but not before earning a nasty look from Spencer. He raised his hands in defence. When Luke returned to the table, he was met with excited whispers from the girls. 
"I've never seen him like this," JJ exclaimed. They were all observing as you were arguing with Spencer. 
"I take it you know what's going on there?" Luke sat down, putting his beer next to Spencer's unfinished glass. 
"Oh, newbie. It's a true scandal. Our resident genius was very jealous of your new lady friend," Penelope clapped her hands together in excitement. 
"But she's his student, right?" 
"Exactly why it's such a scandal!" 
The team observed your body language as well as Spencer's. They noticed your defensive stance, a change from the relaxed one you'd had when talking to Luke. Spencer, too, exuded a different energy. He was clearly in charge of the conversation, domineering stance looking like his second nature. It was clear there was a side to him they hadn't seen, intentionally hidden away. 
"Oh Ehm Gee, look!" Penelope clamoured. 
Spencer had had enough, dragging you towards the bathroom instead of the door like he'd initially intended. He'd tried to hold back, but you made it so damn difficult. 
"Where are we going? Let me go," you struggled in his grip, nearly tripping over your feet as he dragged you to the bathroom. 
"You clearly need to be taught a lesson in respect," Spencer spat, pushing you into the women's bathroom and closing the door. 
"Stop it, Spencer. You're acting childish," you scoffed, trying to push past him out the door. 
"I'm being childish? What was that back there, then? Flirting with my coworker in front of me? That's a new low," Spencer mocked. His body language was hostile and distant. He was feeling worse about it than he was letting on. He clearly had unresolved feelings about your situation, just like you did. 
"I didn't even know he was your coworker! Or that you were here! And you've ignored me every time I've tried to talk to you! You don't get to stake some sort of claim over me!" You defended. Did he really expect you to just wait around for him? 
"I'm not staking a claim! I just assumed we had an understanding!" Spencer's voice was rising with every sentence he spoke. The small bathroom seemed to only get smaller as he towered over you. 
"What understanding, Spencer? We only fucked once," you sneered, rolling your eyes. 
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Spencer's tone shifted, simmering anger underlined with something you couldn't place. You searched his face for emotion but only found his tightened jaw and eyebrows raised in question. 
"So what if I did?" You challenged, crossing your arms. He wasn't backing down, staring into your eyes. You felt your resolve crumble little by little. 
"Bend over," Spencer demanded, motioning to the sink with his head. 
"I'm not bending over some gross bar sink! Especially not for you," you tried pushing past him again, to no avail. His hands found your upper arms, turning you around and pushing you over the sink. 
"You'll listen to me if you know what's good for you," Spencer whispered in your ear. The dampened bass thrumming through the closed bathroom door had nothing on your heartbeat. 
You awaited his hands against your ass, but they didn't come. You stayed in the position he'd put you in, waiting. Spencer stepped back, and you didn't dare move a muscle. 
"Hmm, good girl. See how easy it is to just listen?" He ran a hand over your back, stopping at the hem of your bottoms. You didn't reply, waiting with bated breath. 
"Now, do you remember the rules?" Spencer made eye contact through the mirror. You felt yourself nod before correcting the behaviour. 
"Yes, Sir," you were quick to stammer the words. 
"Good girl..." Spencer trailed off, hooking his fingers into your waistband and pulling everything down to your ankles, leaving you exposed. 
He admired your pussy, kicking your legs apart to give him a better view and access. He wasn't wasting any time this time around. He placed his hands on your ass, squatting down to be at face height with your nethers. You jumped and tried to contain your reaction as he licked a stripe between your folds. Your hand slapped over your mouth, begging nobody could hear what was going down. 
"Wait, Spencer. Lock the door," you remembered. 
"Shut up. Did I give you permission to speak?" Spencer spoke against the warmth between your legs. 
"N-no, Sir," you answered. Your eyes darted to the unlocked door again, anxious someone might walk in. It was a public bar, after all. You wanted to question him. What if someone walked in? But you knew better, keeping your lips sealed. 
Spencer resumed with his mouth on your cunt, slowly devouring and driving you crazy. Tremors built in your legs as he sped up his advances. The wet sounds of his tongue lapping at your clit reached your ears, sending blood rushing to your cheeks. You clenched your eyes shut and balled your fists, doing your best to withhold your reactions. 
"Fuck..." The soft whimper left your mouth as Spencer sucked harshly on your clit. It was almost enough to send you over the edge. Almost. Spencer seemed to know as much, teasing endlessly. You wanted to beg, plead with him to make you cum, but you knew any words from your mouth would urge him to do the opposite. 
The doorknob clicked, and you tried to kick Spencer away from you. His grip on your hips was unwavering as he maintained his eager actions. 
The door flew open, and an unknown girl shrieked at the sight before her before quickly backing out the door. You'd hidden your face to the best of your ability, but there was no doubt what was going on. The least you could do to spare your dignity was hide your identity. 
Your heart beat rapidly in your chest at the intrusion. Even though you hated that you'd gotten caught in such a compromising situation, you couldn't deny it was a little exhilarating to know anybody could walk in at any moment while Spencer had his way with you without a care in the world. 
"You liked getting caught, didn't you? That's what little whores like you get off on," Spencer muttered against your pussy. You shook your head, denying his accusation. 
Spencer got off the floor, and you met his gaze through the mirror. "No? You didn't like it? Then why'd you get so wet," his words were emphasized by the fingers running through your sensitive folds. You whined at the sensation, biting your lip. 
"Fine, have it your way," Spencer sighed, leaning over and finally locking the door. The damage had been done, anyway. 
"Get up and turn around," Spencer ordered. You quickly obeyed, spinning to face him. Your ass pressed into the sink as Spencer stepped closer. He observed you for a second, his right hand coming up to cup your cheek in a strangely intimate moment. 
He quickly snapped out of it, bringing the hand down to your chin and gripping it tightly. You attempted to beg him to continue without words, but he was taking his sweet time. While his touch was no longer tender, the unexpected kiss he planted on your lips could only be described as delicate. A promise. 
His lips quickly moved down your neck, sucking harshly in any open spot he could find. His hand went up to your hair as he put the other on your waist. He tugged strategically, intentionally messing up your put-together appearance. This, combined with the trail of bruises he was leaving on your neck, made one thing clear: He was marking his territory. A fond feeling you wanted to ignore, perhaps to preserve it for later, bloomed in your chest. 
Spencer pushed you backwards onto the stone sink. You crossed your fingers it was a sturdy one, knowing what Spencer likely had in mind. He stepped between your opened legs, unbuckling his belt with one hand as the other remained on your thigh, rubbing the skin and driving you crazy. 
He reached into his underwear, tugging his rock-hard cock out of its confines. He held it tightly in his fist, stroking it as he kept rubbing his fingers closer and closer to your heat. You would've easily been able to take his teasing if he hadn't left you hanging on the edge with his mouth. The seconds he spent stroking himself lazily as he watched you felt like torturous hours. 
Finally, he made contact, tapping the head of his dick against your clit crudely. The sensation made you jerk backwards. He placed his length between your lips, lazily sliding yet never pushing inside. Every time the tip hit your clit with the upwards motion of his hips, a meek noise escaped you. 
"What would Luke think if he saw you like this, huh? Think he'd still be all over you if he knew you were such a little slut for me?" He accentuated his words by finally thrusting inside, pulling a moan from your throat. 
"Bet you'd like that, huh? Having him walk in here? Have him watch as I ruin your little pussy?" You cried out at his words. You couldn't help but imagine it. 
"But you're my good girl, huh?" The slide of his cock against your walls felt phenomenal. You felt yourself tighten at his words. The ridge of his tip got stuck on your entrance, and Spencer chuckled. 
"So tight for me. My pussy," he continued pushing inside, ignoring how you squeezed around him. 
"Say it," he urged. "Tell me who this pussy belongs to." 
"You! Belongs to you, Sir," you whined. You felt your body slowly slip off the sink with every push. You brought your hands to Spencer's shoulders as leverage to keep yourself upright. 
"That's right, all mine," Spencer moaned. His voice was raspy. It was the sexiest thing you'd ever had the pleasure of hearing. 
"Let me hear you," he coaxed. You took it as permission to finally speak. 
"Please, Sir, more," you begged. You no longer had control over your body, throwing your head back and nearly crashing it into the mirror. Your throat was quickly becoming hoarse with the pleas and whines escaping it. 
"More what, sweetheart?" The nickname sounded anything but sincere, just like the last time he'd used it in his office. 
"Fuck- Spe- Sir, harder, please," you were gradually losing your sanity. Your nails dug into the skin of his neck in desperation. 
He fulfilled your request, speeding up the momentum of his hips. You could only hope the music from the bar drowned out the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt with every harsh thrust. The wet squelches coming from where your bodies connected were vulgar. 
"Fuck, baby. So good. Such a good girl for me," Spencer babbled as he leaned forward to plant a messy kiss on your lips. You kept him close with the hold on his neck. 
You brought your hands up to his delectable locks, tugging harshly when he hit the magic spot inside of you. 
"Spencer! Oh my god, please, don't stop," you exclaimed. He continued pounding into you roughly. 
"Nobody can fuck you like I can, nobody will make you feel like I do," Spencer groaned. He was right. He'd ruined you for anybody else the second he'd set foot on campus. 
"O-oh, shit..." Spencer whimpered. If his rough voice was sexy, then Professor Spencer Reid whimpering in your ear in desperation as he neared his climax was on another level. The filthy whispers and sounds falling from his lips were enough to bring you back to the brink. 
"Fuck, Professor," you moaned. It snapped something in Spencer, whose hips stuttered. His pace turned brutal. 
"Say that again," he commanded. Who knew his official title would've set him off? 
"Please, Professor," you whined. The noises falling from your lips sounded foreign to your ears. Frenzied moans left you as Spencer brought his hand to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts. 
"Good girl," Spencer moaned. "Such a good girl for me." You could tell he was about to cum, mirroring your own predicament. 
"Fuck... Let them hear, baby. Tell them who's making you cum," Spencer's hips pressed hard against your own. 
"Spencer, oh- shit," you were no longer holding back. 
"That's right, cum for me." 
His words sent you over the edge, vision momentarily going black as your toes curled. You felt your legs shake as Spencer pushed inside one last time, cock pulsing as he shot his cum deep inside. It was concerning how quickly you'd come to love that specific feeling. 
He allowed you a second to catch your breath before he pulled out of you, tucking himself back into his pants and buckling his belt. He wasted no time, gathering some toilet paper from one of the stalls and carefully cleaning you up. He threw the paper in the toilet and flushed it, turning his attention back to you. 
He bent down, placing a peck on your mound. "All mine."
You scoffed at the action, pushing him away. "You sap." 
"Caught me," Spencer smiled softly, helping you off the sink. You pulled your bottoms back up, cringing at the wet feeling of his cum trickling down. 
"Spencer, I can't go out there like this," you gestured to your exterior. 
"You can and you will, c'mon," he placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you to the exit. You did your best to rearrange your clothes to look somewhat presentable, but there was only so much you could do with your dishevelled appearance. The messy hair, ruined makeup and blotches splattered over your neck would be enough to give away what had happened. 
Your eyes searched the bar for your friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. You grabbed your phone, and with all the notifications, your suspicions were confirmed. They'd left without you. 
"Spencer, can you drive me home?" You tried turning to him, but he kept pushing you to the table where his team and Luke were still seated. Luke wolf-whistled at your appearance. You tried to shrink into yourself or to hide behind Spencer, but he wouldn't allow it. This clearly was some kind of dick-measuring contest to him. 
Spencer sat down next to Emily, pulling you into his lap. "Knock it off already. They get it," you groaned. 
"So, you're taking Spence's class? How's that working out for you?" The blonde next to Luke questioned. Spencer put a drink in front of you. You didn't question its contents, taking a sip before answering. 
"Well, I guess we had some disagreements over some of my work, but it seems we've found a way to work that out," you joked. There was no use in being sheepish about it. Spencer had made very sure they understood exactly what your dynamic was. 
"So it seems." Luke chuckled. You gave him an apologetic smile. He shrugged it off, raising his glass to clink it against yours.
Spencer's arm around you tightened. He'd 100% gotten his message across, but that didn't mean he liked you talking to Luke, or anybody, for that matter. If there's one thing Spencer learned from prison, it would be that sharing definitely wasn't his forté. Especially not you. No... You were all his. 
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lychello · 1 month
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jealousy, jealousy | s. reid
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pairing : jealous spencer reid x male reader
wc : roughly 1,900
a/n : i appreciate requests because it gives me more variety to work with but i was thinking about this for a while and i thought Holy shit what would jealous spencer reid look like So here we are.
Also I didn't go over this more than once, so if there's a spelling or grammar mistake or two, either tell me or ignore it.
you're not as affectionate when working, so it takes a while before you begin to notice the response
content warnings : jealousy, spencer's trauma references, sexual implications, themes and references, comfort
"What did you say her name was?"
You hold a notepad in your hands, scribbling down random connections you could make from the girl's trembling tone. She answers hesitantely. "...I don't know."
You smile, "That's okay, that's okay... you're doing great. Anything else?"
Spencer sits beside you, recounting the conversation in his head, looking for details you might have missed and studying the expression of the girl's face as if looking for something that might resemble a lie.
You two have been in a relationship for the past few months, the team doesn't know; and quite frankly you don't care if they do. Although for someone so set on showing off, Spencer hasn't really made you known—not because of the feeling of being ashamed—but because he's never wanted to let the world steal you from him like the other parts of his job has.
A woman stands beside the girl, no older than 25. Her pitch is high as she talks to you, and the repetition in her voice starts to be caught on by the man standing close beside you. His eyes narrow vaguely, "you're her sister. Am I right?"
"Why, is it obvious we both share the same parents?" Her blonde hair gets caught on the inside of her earring, and her voice naturally gets lower as she looks to Spencer. His voice starts to speed up, "Well, typically older sisters have qualities that remind you of the relative, and not just in appearances too—in simple terms your hand movements match that—" The girl seems to look more scornful the more Spencer speaks, and in doing so, backs closer to her sister. "...I was making a joke." Ignoring the two, you speak up again, crouching to the child's height. "Would you ask your sister if you can do me one more favour by coming down to the station? We're going to show you a few pictures and you'll choose the one who most resembles who you saw. Is that okay?"
Before she has a chance to deny, the woman gazing at you speaks out, far too confidently in the aid of a girl with a missing best friend, and little leads. "Yes! That's okay." Spencer glances at you, whispering, a little louder than what was considered, "...Are you sure about bringing the older one?"
"The girl needs a relative's support; they seem to be close. She's only six... maybe seven, Reid." Your voice softens as you take into account his perspective, "She may be an asshole, but she could be a huge help in speaking logically considering how shaken the younger girl is." You pat his shoulder, "If you're worried, Spence, I promise—I'll stay careful."
Spencer isn't concerned about your safety, he knows you can handle it; he's worried about how you'll react once it comes to your knowledge that he's jealous, but he doesn't let it be known. For the moment, he understands that you're focused on getting the sisters back safely without disturbing their memories.
Still, it doesn't diminish the look of affection in her eyes as she stares at you.
————
Upon entrance to the station, you lead the girls to the interrogation room, advising the older sister to stay out while Emily showcases images and narrows down the search. The sister, you, and Spencer stand behind the glass, watching quietly.
Spencer glances at the girl beside him, "I didn't catch your name."
"Tamika." She says after little hesitance.
"Were you there?" you ask, keeping your eyes stable through the glass. "Did you leave your sister alone?"
Tamika's face sinks lower as she senses how aloof your tone is. "Um... no. No, I wasn't there. She was with her friends at the, um, time. I didn't think much of it..."
You stay silent for a few brief moments before responding with "Okay."
Spencer's eyes trail over her facial features. She was pretty—that much was obvious—her figure was slim, and her eyes were puppy-like. Freckles covered the bridge of her nose and her hair was even a perfect shade of gold.
There's a thought tugging on his mind, one of grief, that tells him you're willing to leave him for someone better, someone like her.
"Why? Why not?" Spencer's voice hovers on an accusatory tone. "Surely you would have noticed something was wrong?—"
"Reid, stop." You say, sternly. "What has gotten into you?"
There's some sense of jealousy set in his expression, but it's vague, and only noticeable to the trained eye. Her sore eyes never leave your soft skin. Her sore eyes never leave you.
"..." Of course, you notice. You always notice when it comes to him, you notice everything. From the mole on his right cheek to the singular ringlet on the back of his neck.
You glance down at your wrist, the time on your watch reads 10:43pm. It's not late for the team members, but it is for everyone else.
The door to the room opens and Emily walks in, sighing. "She's too shaken to identify a set person yet. We've only narrowed down a few."
"Run them by Garcia." Spencer says with his hands stuffed into his cuffed jeans, his voice still uneven. "I'll go over the case files again tonight."
Emily shoots him a glance as if to ask what's wrong with him, but within a few seconds she grins sarcastically, "Roger that, Dr. Reid."
The bounds of the room keep the conversation inside, and the doors don't slam as loud when Emily leaves with an open flip phone in one hand and four pictures in the other.
For a few brief, uncomfortable moments, there's silence.
Taking the discomfort as an opportunity to manipulate, Tamika's left hand brushes softly over your arm, "Hey, um... Y/N, was it? Can we talk?"
Noticing the attention, you keep your voice steady. "What is there to talk about? Your sister is waiting outside with one of the other team members. It's late. Go home."
Her fingertips trace your bicep, her voice lowering slightly more in the means of seduction. "Mhm, I know, I know... but... would you like to come over? I can put the girl to bed while you and I..." Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, "don't make me say it."
"Y/N, we're going back to the motel. Come on." Spencer's voice wavers with a brief disgust as he stands by the door with his phone open on a message. "Hotch is giving orders."
Tamika looks up, "But—"
You nod to Spencer, moving away from her touch. There's no hint of a response; you leave her speechless where she is and she soon decides whether to leave on her own, or be escorted out.
————
As soon as Spencer closes the door to the motel room, you kiss him along the corner of his mouth. "Spence, baby, today was rough..."
He giggles in response, using his palm to push against your mouth as if using his hand to defy your attacks. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, do your homework."
You grin playfully and, after enough convincing, you let go.
The motel room wasn't exactly cheap, but you could afford it quite easily. Velvet curtains line the windows and there is plenty of space for clothing. The beds are singularly separate and lined against each other. Everyone in the team was told to split two into each room, and coincidentally you two ended up together.
Spencer is already pulling books from his bag and flipping through loose annotations, while you're setting files on your desk to sort through. After four or five books, you feel him lean his head on your shoulder from the back.
You chuckle softly under your breath at the embrace and put your hands through your pocket to pull out your keys only to halt, pulling a slot of paper from your pocket. "Huh." You murmur, turning it over to read the numbers on the back.
Spencer looks up, "What's that?"
"A phone number." You whisper in thought. "Must be Tamika's, right?"
Spencer's head perks up higher. "...What? When would she have had the time to do that? I can't think of any... what?"
You shrug, putting it to the side on the desk below you to continue sorting files.
He murmurs into your shoulder softly, "...Are you going to text it?"
You place your hand on the back of his head although looking away from him. "Maybe. She could still provide us useful information if she finds any out."
"You know that's not why she, uh, left it."
You notice his stuttering and pull him off your shoulder, turning around. The look in your eye speaks volumes against his discomfort and he swallows heavily.
"Spence, baby, are you jealous?"
Your voice is soft in an attempt to console him but there are hints of amusement stuck to it. You, alone, know the answer, but by questioning him, it made this far more fun than it was already.
"Huh? No. Why would I be jealous? She... no." He sputters out, still clinging onto your waist despite being moved to face you instead.
"Oh come on, you're a horrible liar when it comes to me. Besides, I noticed earlier today in the station, you've been a lot less talkative as of late than ever, haven't you?" Your hand crawls up his neck gently. "...Spence, please."
Although he was half listening, the way you say his name makes shivers walk up his spine and his lack of attention fully subsides when he looks up at you. His back straightens suddenly to the point he's now standing taller, "What?"
"You know I love you. Like... seriously love you. I don't know if I could ever explain that to you, but I do."
He stares at you, dark brown gazing into your eyes. "...I know, I know... I love you too. I just—" His tone falls to a whisper before trailing off. "You seemed interested. And she was pretty... you know?" He continued eventually.
You stay quiet before laughing. "What about me screamed 'interested'?"
With your palms holding his face, he moves his gaze to your lips and back to your eyes, "What?"
"I was avoiding her at any cost... I highly doubt that's something you do to your love." You run your thumb along his cheek, almost in a subconscious motion, as he processes exactly what you said.
"She was seducing you." He says flatly, "You know that. You knew that—and you didn't take up the offer? Why?"
You stare at him blankly. "...Because I don't love her? I'm not sure what you want me to say here, Spence, but I can assure you that is my reasoning."
The clock strikes 12am in the motel, night seeping in through the curtain cracks and moonlight illuminating what the ceiling light can't.
You pull Spencer closer, running your fingers through his hair. "There is no one in this world who could replace you. And even if there were, I wouldn't take it. I wouldn't give you up. There's no one better than you."
"..."
Spencer's hands fall into your lap as he leans his head into your chest. "I know, I just—I know. I'm really sorry."
You laugh. "Don't apologise! Things happen. I get jealous around you sometimes too, you know?" You notice him smile into your shirt and you pat through his hair, grinning. "Tough day, huh?"
He shakes his head at you, "Stop talking now."
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"Damn, he's so cute." | s.r
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summary: Spencer returns home and the last thing he expects to hear is that his partner is fangirling about someone else besides him.
warnings: spencer jealous by min yoongi, so it is a jealous!spencer x army!reader, for my dear armys.
based on this tiktok, because shit, he's attractive.
words: 812 words.
a/n: Here is a little blurb improvised after watching a video of Min Yoongi, I hope you like it. Also, during the weekend I will be uploading the requests that have been asking me, I promise to upload them. Thanks for all the support, and soon I will be uploading chapter 2 of "Boy Wonder and the Rockstar".
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One of Spencer's problems with being a technophobe was not keeping up with pop culture, so knowing the latest gossip or what was trending that day was not his forte.
Unlike Penelope, who was the encyclopedia of pop culture. Any kind of question or news you had about what happened to a certain celebrity over the weekend, she'd fill you in no problem.
So, when Spencer started dating you, he was constantly asking Penelope about what was going on in the pop world and coming home to talk about it. That way, Spencer could be listening to you fascinated about what you thought about anything and be fed with new information.
But one day, as he was coming home from a meeting to his shared apartment from a meeting, he could hear a comment from his room.
"Good Lord, how can he be so attractive?"
Spencer's brain stopped working for a couple of seconds.
Who was attractive?
Who did you find attractive?
Maybe you meant him.
He used to be very cocky about his looks ever since he started dating you, because of the constant compliments you gave him. Plus, he knew deep down inside that comment to someone else.
"Damn, he's so cute."
Who the fuck was that person?
The door to the room slowly opened, revealing your back silhouette as you watched something on your phone. A flirtatious smile left your lips, managing to fuel your boyfriend's jealousy even more.
"Hey, beautiful."
You turned around, blocking the screen of your phone and put it aside to hug your newly arrived boyfriend by the neck.
"My love, how did it go? I was already starting to miss you."
A sarcastic chuckle came out of Spencer's mouth, leaving an annoyed smile to settle on his lips. Your face made a slightly confused grimace, looking at your boyfriend blankly.
"Is something wrong, Spence?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
You gently pulled away from him, looking at him with some confusion in that minute. You bit your lip, noticing how suddenly his face looked serious with a hint of annoyance.
"I don't really know, nothing's wrong." You followed the man's gaze, noticing how he stopped on your phone and blurted out with some momentum.
"Who were you just talking about?"
"What, what are you talking about?"
"Who do you find so attractive and cute? Huh?" your eyes scanned Spencer, causing you to let out a chuckle, fixating on that adorable bout of jealousy.
"Are you jealous, Spencer?"
"Tell me, who is it?"
You could tell by his tone of voice that he wasn't for jokes, so you decided to give him the answer he so desperately craved.
Your feet went to your phone, which you unlocked and showed him.
In the video, there was a famous Korean singer named "SUGA" or "AGUST D", who had been recorded by a fan taking off gloves and then doing his hair back, which to you was quite an attractive action, but to Spencer it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Him I find attractive. He's from the Korean group I was telling you about the other day, BTS, remember them?"
Spencer's eyes went from your phone screen to your face, feeling embarrassment take over his face. He was jealous of some pixels, of a video of a worldwide recognized artist, of some pixels of video.
"Love..." An embarrassed chuckle escaped Spencer's lips. "Sorry, I just heard you so suddenly and, well, I didn't expect to hear that just coming home and fawning over another man, god... How embarrassing."
"Spence, honey, it's okay. It's understandable, it wouldn't be the first thing I'd want to hear either if you just got home, plus it had to be weird that you suddenly put my phone away after saying something so revealing. It's fine." You mentioned laughing, letting your hands go to his neck and caressed the unruly curls brushing your fingers. "But, there is no man more attractive than you, pretty boy. No one is quite like you."
A cocky smile settled on the lips of your partner, who was suddenly kissing your mouth in a deep kiss.
"I'm glad no one has yet taken my spot of being the most attractive man in your life."
"No one could do it, love."
"What about that 'SUGA' guy?"
You paused, making a thoughtful face before you could see the feigned annoyance Spencer had and let out an amused chuckle.
"This is a hard question, I have to think about it more."
"Well this will make you not think about it anymore."
"Spence!"
As soon as you let out the last sentence, Spencer's hands went to your hips and he lifted you up to carry you to your bed, leaving you to prove to yourself that night who was number one on your beauty scale and in your heart.
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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
a lot of love, alme. ❀
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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More Than Words
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader
Requested: yes
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!
Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”
It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.
“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.
“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.
“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.
“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”
“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”
You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.
“Promise you won’t tell?”
“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.
“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.
“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”
“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.
“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”
“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.
“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.
“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.
–X–
Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.
At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.
“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.
“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.
“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.
“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”
“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.
“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.
“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”
“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”
“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.
“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.
“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.
“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”
“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.
“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.
“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”
With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.
“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”
–X–
The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.
“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.
“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.
“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”
“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.
“What was our first date?” He asked.
“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”
“What else have we done together?”
“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”
“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.
You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.
“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”
He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.
“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.
“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”
“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.
You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.
But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.
“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.
The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.
“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”
“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.
“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”
“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”
“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.
“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”
“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.
“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.
“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.
“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”
Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.
“Mom, how did you know…”
“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,
“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.
–X–
The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.
Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.
What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?
So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.
You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.
“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.
“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.
You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.
“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.
“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.
He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”
“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.
An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.
“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.
“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.
“I don’t pick my nails!”
“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.
“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”
“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”
“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.
“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.
“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.
“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”
“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”
“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.
“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”
“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”
“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.
“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”
“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”
“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.
“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”
“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.
“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.
“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.
“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.
“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”
“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”
“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.
–X–
“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.
“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.
“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.
“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.
You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.
“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.
“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”
You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.
“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.
“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.
“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”
“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.
“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.
“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.
“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.
“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.
“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.
“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.
“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.
“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.
–X–
You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.
To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.
“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.
“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.
“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.
“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.
“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.
“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.
His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.
“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”
“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.
–X–
The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.
You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.
So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.
You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.
You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.
You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.
“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.
“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.
“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.
“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.
“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.
“How’d you figure it out?”
“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”
“Three.”
“Three what?”
“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.
“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.
“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”
“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”
“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”
You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.
“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.
You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.
“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.
“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.
You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.
“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”
Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.
“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.
“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.
“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.
“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.
“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”
“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.
“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.
“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.
“Yes?”
“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.
But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.
“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.
He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.
“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.
“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.
He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.
“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.
“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.
It never did.
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rynwritesreid · 5 months
Text
Mine, all mine| Spencer Reid
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Request| I love your writing and if you're interested of course, I'd really like to read something with jealous Reid x bau!reader . Maybe some angst at first where Spencer is a bit insecure and then it ends in fluff or smut, whatever you decide.
Summary: Spencer starts to feel jealous after realising how many men flirt with you. You try to reassure him, that you don’t want them, and you only want him.
Content: Fem!reader. Some angst, fluff but mainly smut. Jealous Spencer. Dom!Spencer. Sub!reader. Marking/spanking. no mentions of contraception. Pet names (Princess and sir) 18+
Masterlist|Requests are open|Navigation
Spencer Reid had never been a jealous man before, insecure certainly, but jealousy wasn’t his thing. However, lately, a peculiar feeling had been creeping into his thoughts, catching him off guard. It was an unfamiliar sensation that left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He saw how other men in the FBI looked at you, or when you were out in the field, how the police would flirt with you. He knew you wouldn’t cheat, you barely entertained the men that talked to you, but he still hated it and thought one of them may take you away from him.
He trusted you though; he had never once doubted your loyalty or intentions. The people Spencer didn’t trust were the men who would watch you like hawks, or flirt with you any chance they got.
 
You had noticed how he was acting. Though you liked it when he was possessive over you, you wondered if you had giving him any reason to act this way. So, while the rest of your friends were either dancing or getting more drinks, you asked; “Spencer, are you okay? Have I given you any reason to be jealous because that’s what you’re acting like.”
 
“I’m not jealous. It’s just… you’re mine” Spencer said through grated teeth, while placing his hand gently on your thigh. “Say it, say you’re mine Y/N.”
 
“Spencer, you know I’m yours. Why are you being like this?” While you knew Spencer could get possessive, he had never once asked you to proclaim to the world you belonged to him.
 
“I want to hear you say it. I see how other men look at you and hear how they flirt with you. So, say you’re mine. Tell the world you belong to me.” His hand was now gripping your thigh, you knew it was going to leave marks.
 
“Why are you acting like this Spencer. Do you not trust me?” Spencer's grip tightened, making you wince. His eyes bore into yours, his jaw clenched. “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s them. God, they look at you as if you are naked in their bed.”
 
You could sense the anger building up in him. You put your hand on top of his, trying to calm him down. "Spencer, please. I'm not going anywhere. You have nothing to worry about."
 
“Okay. Well just say you’re mine then, that’s all I want to hear.”
 
You took a deep breath, trying to think of the right words to say to Spencer. You knew that he was just afraid of losing you, but he needed to understand that you were in this relationship because you wanted to be, not because someone was forcing you to.
 
“I’m yours, Spencer. I belong to you and no one else. I love you and only you,” you said, looking into his eyes and trying to reassure him.
 
He let out a deep breath, his grip on your thigh loosening. “Thank you,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. His kiss wasn’t gentle, or soft. It was full of passion and possessiveness, devouring you completely. His hand moved to your hair, gripping it tightly as he deepened the kiss even more. You could feel his need for you, his fear of losing you, and his desire to claim you as his own.
 
As he pulled away, he looked deep into your eyes once again. “I love you, Y/N. But I want to ruin you. Ruin you for other men.” He leaned in, speaking the last part in your ear. “Because you are mine.”
 
You were left speechless; all could let out was a little whimper. You loved this new side of Spencer.
 
“I think I’m going to take Y/N home.” Spencer's voice was firm, possessive, and brooked no argument. He pulled you up from your seat and led you out of the bar, his hand gripping yours.
 
The drive back to his apartment was silent, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turning white. You still hadn’t found your voice, and even if you had, you knew there would be no use in arguing with him.
 
As soon as Spencer opened the door to his apartment, he pushed you inside and slammed the door shut behind him. He locked the door and turned to face you, his eyes smouldering with intensity.
 
“You look so beautiful; I can’t really blame those men for looking at you. But maybe I should do something to show them that you’re mine.” He moved so close to you; you could feel his hot breath against your ear. “Leaving little marks on you won’t do it.”
 
He seemed to think for a while, but you knew he had already thought about what he was going to do. Suddenly, his lips were back on yours, devouring you with a fierce hunger. His hands roamed your body, pulling you closer to him until there was no space left between you.
 
“I’m going to mark you, Y/N. Show everyone that you’re mine.” Spencer's voice was low and husky. “But my marks aren’t going to be little hickeys. No, my marks are going to leave an impression.” He pulled away from you, leaving you slightly dazed.
 
You wanted to ask him what he was planning on doing to you if it was going to hurt more than usual. But he didn’t let you speak, before he started talking; “Princess, I’m going to need you to go to the bedroom and wait on your knees. Is that okay?” His voice was soft and gentle, but you could tell it was a command.
 
You turned around, and started walking towards the bedroom, his eyes never leaving you. You kneeled on the floor, crossed your legs, and placed your hands on your knees. You had done this many times before, but this time felt different.
 
As you waited for him to join you in the room, you wondered what exactly he was going to do. You had seen what he was capable of, so you weren’t afraid. You saw him walk into the room, his presence didn’t bring much comfort, you saw a look in his eyes, one of annoyance, almost anger.
 
“You know I’ve noticed how you act when other men give you attention. You like it, don’t you? Am I not good enough?” While he asked a question, one he expected you to answer, you knew he already knew he was good enough.
 
“Of course, you’re good enough, you’re more than good enough”, you replied softly.
 
Spencer looked at you, his eyes darkening. He started to take off his belt but hadn’t told you to get up or to start to undress yourself.
 
“I want you to show me how much I mean to you.” Spencer looked at you as he spoke, his eyes full of desire as he watched you obey his command.
 
Spencer was standing in front of you, his cock already hard and ready to go.
 
“Suck it” he growled.
 
You did as you were told, knowing this is what he wanted. His hands gripped the back of your head as you deepthroated him.
 
"That's it princess, take it all" Spencer grunted. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, but you enjoyed this, and you knew he did too. As you looked up at him, you saw the pleasure that was his face, the moans leaving his mouth.
 
His hand gripped your hair faster and faster, and finally he just yelled "Fuck" and emptied his load down your throat. "Beautiful" he whispered, out of breath.
 
He sat on the bed and motioned you over. As you went to him, he began to undo your buttons on your shirt. "I'm going to punish you for allowing those men to flirt with you." You nodded, and he let you remove the shirt, taking off your bra in the process.
 
 "Who do you belong too?" Spencer asked.
 
“You, sir.” you whispered.
 
“That’s right. And you’re going to feel the pain that you deserve for having me worried all night.” He ran his hand down your bare skin. “Now lay across my lap.”
 
You got over his lap, and he began spanking you. This wasn’t new, you knew it’s something Spencer enjoyed. It hurt more than usual, but you knew that was because he was angry with you. He spanked you harder and harder until your ass was bright red.
 
“Have I made my point, princess?” Spencer’s voice was thick.
 
“Yes, sir.” you said, tears still streaming down your face.
 
Spencer placed his hand on your ass, rubbing it gently. “Princess, I love you. I just don’t want to see other men trying to take you away from me.” He kissed you, pulling you closer to him.
“I’m sorry, sir.” you whispered.
 
“Don’t be sorry, just don’t let it happen again.” He pulled your hips closer to him. “You’re going to make me hard again, aren’t you?” He asked with a smirk.
 
“Yes, sir.” you said softly.
 
“What are you going to do about it?” He growled.
 
He looked at you with a smirk before he reached between your legs and started rubbing your clit. "Fuck, you're so wet. Do you enjoy been punished?”
 
"Yes, sir." you whimpered.
 
Spencer started rubbing your clit, pinching it, making you moan. He smiled and just watched you, and when he saw the pleasure written across your face, he pushed his fingers deeper inside you, curving them up against your g-spot. He leaned closer to you, your body still moving against his fingers. He licked your neck and whispered "You're mine."
You couldn't say anything, just moved against his fingers. He bit down on your shoulder, then ran his tongue up your neck.
 
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You moaned.
 
"Cum for me, princess." Spencer panted.
 
You were shaking harder and harder as the pleasure built up inside of you. Spencer started rubbing your clit again, and you came harder than you ever had.
 
Spencer took his fingers out of you and moved you off his lap, gently laying you on the bed. He stood up and took the rest of his clothes off. He climbed on the bed next to you and leaned over to kiss your lips. He whispered in your ear "You're so beautiful." You could see the lust and love in his eyes. He kissed you again and pulled you closer, pressing his body against yours.  
 
You felt his cock against your legs, and in one quick move he entered you. You moaned against him as he thrust into you. He whispered in your ear, "Fuck, you're so tight."
 
He wrapped your legs around him as he moved in and out of you.  "Such a good girl. You're dripping wet. You like it rough, don't you?" Spencer whispered into your ear. You could only let out a moan in response.
 
He started thrusting into you harder and harder, until he had no more to give. He pulled out of you and pulled you close to him. He kissed you deeply and said, "I love you." You smiled up at him and said "I love you too, Spencer." You fell asleep in his arms.
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hotchscvm · 10 months
Text
bad ideas (and good results)
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pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, sort of spencer reid x reader
summary: after aaron’s rejection, you enlist spencer’s help to make him jealous.
word count: 4.2k
warnings: reader putting on a naked show, airplane turbulence, reid calling reader out for daddy issues
a/n: accidentally put too much spencer in this whoops
You couldn’t take it anymore.
The tension between the two of you was so palpable you were practically choking on it. You couldn’t be alone in a room with him without resisting the urge to throw yourself at him. Even with others around, you still had to peel off your drenched panties when you got home and take a cold shower.
And you knew he felt the same, though he wasn’t as obvious about how it affected him. The team had commented how you were his soft spot, always assigning you to him on cases (when you were newer, you had brushed the thought aside, thinking he wanted to watch over you and evaluate your work), getting your favorite coffee every morning and even putting his jacket around you when you’d been soaked in lake water after catching the unsub.
So when you decided to take the leap and ask him if he wanted to have dinner, you weren’t expecting him to reject you so blatantly. Just a flat-out no. Didn’t even try cushioning the blow.
You still couldn’t erase his expression from your memories as he told you he didn’t like you in that way. Confused at the time, you had stood there dumbfounded by what he was saying. Walking out of his office and heading home was a blur and you wondered if you had imagined his previous actions.
Sitting on your couch with a bottle of wine in hand, you thought about your interactions. Surely you didn’t imagine the way he looked at you on those nights you stayed late to help him with paperwork? Or the way he had comforted you after an unsub had harassed you mercilessly during an interrogation. Or when you had to share that hotel room in Alaska and sleep in the same bed for “warmth.”
After an hour of watching The Wedding Date, you had got an idea that was so delusional it might work. Calling Spencer in the wee hours of the night had him pick up the phone after the second ring, concerned it was an emergency. In a way it was, and he had gotten to your apartment in record time.
He had barely knocked on the door when you swung it open, grabbing by the arm and practically dragging him and his Jesus haircut inside. Spencer raised an eyebrow at your excitement, glancing at the state of your apartment as you drag him to the couch.
“What’s going on? Why’d you need me to come at,” he checks his watch. “Eleven thirty-seven at night?”
You sighed, pushing him to sit on the couch and grabbing the remote. “I kind of asked Hotch out. And before you congratulate me for making the first move, he doesn’t feel the same and basically told me he found me ugly and disgusting.”
Spencer gave you a skeptical look. “He did not say that.”
“Whatever, it was implied,” you reply and Boy Genius gives out a snort at your dramatics. “Anyways, I was watching The Wedding Date when I got this idea … In the movie, this girl hires an escort to be her date to her sister’s wedding because her ex is going to be there. And I was thinking …”
“Go on.” he encourages.
Spencer was the only one to know about your crush on Aaron. The others, especially the girls, had a suspicion you did but Spencer was the one you spilled all your information to. Mostly because he was the first to catch you making eyes at your boss and the closest in age to you. He had listened to the details of your days with Aaron, sometimes debriefing you on how Aaron had interacted with you, the words he had said about you, or the way his body language gave him away. You had eaten up everything he had said in the hopes it had been true.
He was also the only one you could go to with this plan. Derek would’ve had you relayed all the details of your crush to him before agreeing and you didn’t want to tell him he had been right about your crush. You’d have rather died than have Derek Morgan know he was right. Spencer was sweet and attractive, and despite your taste for older men than the doctor, it would be believable considering how much time you spend with each other outside of work.
“I was thinking that we fake date to make Hotch jealous.” you finish, slightly grimacing at how stupid the plan was now that you said it out loud. Before Spencer could reply, you jumped in. “I know it probably won’t make him jealous considering he doesn’t like me that way but on the off chance that it does–I kind of want him to hurt a fraction of what I had tonight. And you probably think the plan is idiotic and pathetic–”
“Alright,” he said, cutting off your rambling. When you raise an eyebrow, he lifts a shoulder. “I don’t think it's idiotic or pathetic. I think we should do it.”
It took you a few seconds to process his words. “Really?”
Spencer nods, giving you a small smile. “Yes, I would do anything for you. Besides, it would be a good experiment and I love experiments.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Of course you do.”
“So how is this fake dating thing going to work?”
You spend a good half hour talking about the parameters of the plan. Both of you had decided it was best to keep it subtle instead of announcing to the team you were “seeing” each other. Neither of you would confirm it and if asked, you’d redirect the topic somewhat noticeably so whoever had asked would be able to pick up on it.
Spencer surprised you when he came up with the idea for small touches and light flirting. When you had given him a look, he was quick to explain his idea. Obviously, you had to be affectionate towards each other in front of the team and especially Aaron, but not so much that it qualified as PDA.
The smart doctor had proposed small touches like lingering fingers, a hand on a shoulder (you pointed out you did this with him quite often and he argued it would only make more sense to keep doing it), hair ruffling (again you told him you’ve done this to him and he admitted he liked getting his hair played a certain way), and hand squeezes.
You waited for the shock on Spencer’s face when you wondered out loud if it was effective for you to “sneak” into his hotel room during a case and have a member of the team see you going into his room so they could relay what they saw to the others; instead, you were met with an intuitive hum of agreement.
By the time you’d gotten done with planning, it was ten minutes past midnight and Spencer was yawning every few minutes. And while his apartment was only about ten blocks from yours, you offered for him to stay the night with the promise to stop at his place before work for him to get a change of clothes. He accepted and both of you had fallen asleep in the living room while the credits of the movie played in the background.
In the morning, you came to the realization that the wine you had drank had caused you to oversleep, and keeping Spencer up past midnight had also caused him to wake up about half an hour later than usual. You slapped him awake with a pillow before rushing to get ready.
Spencer had been half asleep as he got in your car but after a near-death experience with a semi, he had woken up and clutched his seatbelt all the way to work. As you entered the building, you were rolling your eyes as he mumbled how you were more of a reckless driver than Derek–impossible–and how he feared for his life whenever you were in the driver’s seat.
As soon as you pushed through the glass doors, Emily noticed something different. You placed your stuff on your desk, plopping down on your chair when she sits on your desk, glancing between you and Spencer, eyebrows raised.
“Reid, are you wearing the same sweater from yesterday?” she questioned, and your ears perked up at her words.
Your eyes flicker to Spencer’s outfit. With your lateness, you weren’t able to stop at Spencer’s place and he had assured you he could change into something from his go bag. He was in the midst of picking up the duffel when Emily commented on his fashion sense. You gave him a look to play along but he was looking down at his outfit to notice.
He tilted his head, nodding. “Yeah, we woke up late this morning.”
You’ve never seen Emily’s head turn so fast–you were worried she had accidentally snapped her own neck. The brunette smirked at you before turning back to Spencer. “We?”
Spencer looked up, eyes finally meeting yours. His eyes flickered with recognition and took the opportunity to start your idea. His slight blush was the cherry on top. “What?”
Emily’s smirk grew, and she looked like a cat that swallowed a canary. She turned to you, giving you the look she’d make when a guy would flirt with you during a girl’s night out. “So … what’d you do last night?”
You couldn’t help but grin at her nosiness. “Work. Long, hard work.”
“Yeah, I bet.” she chuckled, side-eyeing Spencer. “The work definitely looks hard when you’re doing it.”
The water you sipped trickled out of your mouth at the innuendo, and you furiously wiped your chin. Emily cackled at her own joke, drawing JJ’s attention from nearby. You try to ignore her, gently pushing her off your desk, mumbling about having to do work, but it only makes her gasp for breath.
JJ sauntered over to your desk, curious at whatever made Emily cackle like the green witch from the Kansas movie. “What’s going on here?”
Emily leans over to whisper in her ear before pointing at Spencer who had taken his go-bag along with him to the bathroom. JJ adopts Emily’s smirk, sharing a look with the brunette before glancing between you and the men’s bathroom.
The blonde pulls up a chair next to yours, the girls surrounding your desks. JJ leans in close, grinning mad wildly at you. “I thought you liked Hotch, not Spence.”
You rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed by the whole thing while you smiled internally. “I don’t like either of them, beyond friends. … Stop looking at me like that!”
“Clearly you like Reid more than that if you guys spent the night together.” Emily wiggled her brows, earning another chuckle from JJ. She yelped at the small smack you gave her on the arm.
“We didn’t spend the night together.” you hissed, keeping your voice low. How you would’ve loved to show Rossi your performance right now after he commented you were a terrible liar. “We were doing paperwork together and we fell asleep because it was late and so we woke up late.”
The girls gave each other a look, nodding at you, clearly not believing the semi-lie you told. (Did it count as a lie if you told them the half-truth but in a way that was unconvincing?)
“Uh-huh.”
“Of course. It makes perfect sense.”
“Yeah, especially if you guys were up late. It’s only reasonable that he stayed the night.”
“Mm-hm. You guys were probably so tired you didn’t do anything before sleeping.”
The sarcasm was leaking from their voices, practically dripping on the floor. You didn’t know how to answer their cryptic responses, covering your smile with a hand. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. Despite Aaron’s harsh rejection not even twelve hours ago, you were feeling better.
Thankfully, you were saved from coming up with a reply when Penelope came in the room with a case file in her hands, gesturing towards the briefing room. Unfortunately, JJ and Emily’s amusement was so obvious, Penelope was able to pick up on the brewing gossip from just the look on their smug faces.
You passed her on the way up the stairs, giving her a small smile as she stayed back to get the information from JJ and Emily. You rolled your eyes when you heard the technical analysis gasp, walking to the briefing room faster.
While you temporarily escaped Penelope’s wave of questions upon entering the briefing room, you were met with the presence of the man your bones–and pussy–ached for. You avoided looking in his general direction as you sat next to Derek.
He turned to you as the girls entered the room, smiling. “Damn Mama, you look tired. What’d you do last night?”
And as if on cue, Spencer sat down in the empty chair on the other side of you, causing Emily to burst out laughing. The guys turned to look at her, confused by her reaction to Spencer’s timed action. She waved away their confusion, hiding behind her iPad, pretending to study the case all the while her shoulders shook from silent laughter.
Penelope had her eyes set on you and Spencer, giving you a look that read she wanted all the details directly from you. Saving you from having to explain Emily’s reaction, Penelope started the briefing, pulling everyone’s attention from you and Spencer to the serial killer running around Los Angeles.
It was easy to ignore Aaron’s stares through the briefing, too focused on the case details to give him attention but that couldn’t be said on the plane, especially when he walked up behind you on the steps. Your eyes met his and it felt like your nerves told your brain it was a fight or flight situation, causing you to internally panic.
You more or so sprinted up steps and into the plane, inadvertently sitting down next to the man half your coworkers suspected you were hooking up with. While it wasn’t unusual for you to sit next to anyone on the team, your normal spot had been right beside Aaron, the window seat while he took up the aisle seat. So accidentally sitting next to Spencer had caused Emily and JJ to share a glance with each other.
After Aaron had given the team details on what they were supposed to do–thankfully he had partnered you up with Rossi instead of himself–your phone buzzed relentlessly as Penelope texted you asking for details about your new paramour. Said paramour was peeking over your shoulder to read the numerous Penelope had sent.
After a second of them being left unanswered, she called you, her name popping up on your phone. You playfully glared at Emily and JJ before getting up and answering the call.
“Yes, baby girl?” you cooed, pushing the curtains aside to get a cup of coffee. “What can I help you with?”
“You and Reid?!” her voice was so loud you flinched as it hit your eardrum. “I thought you liked Hotch!”
“I don’t like either of them.” you sighed, heart pounding at the lie. Even just hearing his name had caused your body to tense, and you were sure there was a patch of wetness on your underwear. “And Spence and I are just friends.”
“JJ told me you guys spent the night together,” she replied, and you could practically hear her brain cogs working overtime. “As in doing intimate, not-suitable-for-work stuff.”
“No funny business, I swear,” you mutter, hissing when you spill coffee on yourself.
“Please don’t lie to me,” begged Penelope. “You can tell me anything, you know that. And you don’t have to be ashamed that you like Spencer, he’s cute in a nerdy way! You guys would make a great couple–”
Spencer pushed through the curtains, and it was as if Penelope sensed him through the phone because she went silent. Boy genius reached over you to grab a plastic cup from the counter, pouring his own coffee.
“Is that Garcia?” he asked, motioning to the phone. You nodded, smiling at the nearly inaudible hitch of Penelope’s breath. He chuckled, moving a tad closer to the speaker. “Hi, Garcia.”
Before she could reply, you intervened. “Bye Pen.”
You hung up, sighing. Taking a sip of coffee, you leaned against the small counter. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think our plan would progress so fast. Do you think it makes it look less believable?”
“I don’t think so. If anything, it just made it more so,” said Spencer, mirroring your actions. “It’s very realistic friends would hook up when the situation pushes them to like working late nights, watching movies, or going to chess tournaments together.”
Giving him a blank look, you slurped your coffee rather loudly.
He cleared his throat, feeling awkward. “Anyways, the only thing people may not believe is that I was able to … get you.”
“That’s insane. Why don’t you think you could pull me?”
Spencer blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just that I’m me and you’re … you. It’s kind of obvious you’re out of my league. I mean you’re very pretty and you could get any guy and honestly, I find it hard to believe Hotch would turn you down–”
You grinned, interrupting his rambling. “Aww, Spence, you’re so sweet. But you underestimate yourself. You’re very cute and if I wasn’t attracted to men twenty years older than me, then I would’ve gone for you.”
“Have you ever wondered if your attraction to much older men is caused by your daddy issues?” he blurted.
The plane lurched to the side, bringing Spencer to pin you against the counter, a hand placed on the counter to keep himself from falling right into you as the plane stabilized. Fortunately, Spencer’s coffee had spilled on the floor instead of either of you. Unfortunately (or fortunately), Aaron had chosen that moment to walk into your little space.
You and Spencer freeze in place as your boss–and the object of your desires–catches you in a position that would’ve had Penelope screaming from excitement. Spencer's free hand was on the counter, trapping you in between. His torso touched yours, your breast pressing up against his chest and your right hand was on his shoulder to stop him from crushing you during the turbulence.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed at the contact and the lack of space between you and Spencer. Both of you immediately sprung into action, Spencer taking a step back while you slid to your left, trying to put more space between you both.
While you were internally celebrating Aaron’s almost-jealous expression, you were more embarrassed at what he must be thinking. You didn’t plan to be so outward with Spencer, after all, you both agreed on only subtle touches, not pressed up against each other in a public space.
“Are you two alright?” Aaron questioned, eyes darting between you and Spencer.
You didn’t want to be delusional and lie to yourself but the vein on Aaron’s neck was bulging, a thing that only happened when he felt stressed or angry. You must’ve smiled subconsciously because he stared at you, brows furrowed.
“Yeah, the turbulence just caught us by surprise,” you reply, motioning to the coffee-stained floor. You stepped around him, shoulder brushing up against his arm. The curtains parted and you backed out. “I’m gonna head back.”
You don’t miss the way his eyes linger as you walk back.
By the time you head back to the hotel, you’re grumpy and sticky from sweat. Throughout the day, everyone has heard you moan and groan about the heat. By now, the team has figured out you’d rather freeze to death than heat.
The AC at the police station could only do so much when the temperature outside was over one hundred degrees. Rossi fanning you while you checked out the crime scene hadn’t helped and when you got back to the station, you begged Aaron to let you stay inside, breaking that awkward tension between the both of you through your hatred of heat.
Not that the tension hadn’t grown whenever Spencer and you were in the same room. Aaron would send him out to look at the body or interview close friends but as soon as he came back to the station, Aaron would find some excuse to send him back out, not giving you two the opportunity to work the plan. Not that you cared that much, you were too busy melting.
When everyone got to the hotel, Aaron held out four keys, and the team groaned. You’d have to share.
JJ snatched a key from Aaron’s hand. “Me and Em will share.”
“I’m not sharing a room with Reid, again,” Derek announced, crossing his arms. A confused Spencer tilted his head at him, a little hurt at the comment.
JJ smiled, handing Spencer a key. “Spencer can share with his friend.”
You glared at JJ, and she threw you another smug smile. Emily snorted, faking a cough when Rossi turned to look at her. Turning to Spencer, you nodded. “Yeah, we can share.”
“Actually,” objected Aaron, eyes never leaving you. “It’s Reid’s turn to have a room to himself.”
Derek looked at him, confused. “No, it isn’t. He had a room to himself in Alaska, it’s my turn actually–”
“Morgan, you can share with Rossi,” Aaron said with finality, giving him a key. He looked at you once again. “I’ll share a room with you.”
You knew the plan had worked but you were too exhausted and sticky to be happy about it. Not that you hadn’t wanted to share a room with him again, but all you could think about was taking a cold shower and hopefully freezing your entire body to the point where you stay cold all throughout the case.
The team dispersed. Aaron and your room was on the third floor while the rest stayed on the first. He carried your duffel bag, and you didn’t bother fighting him like you usually had. The elevator ride up was awkward and you wished he could make up his mind on whether he wanted you or not.
As soon as he unlocked the door, you rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, setting the temperature to cold. You snatched your bag from his shoulder and ran back to the bathroom, peeling off your work clothes. A moan slips out as the cold water hits your skin, and for the entirety of the shower, you forget about the man behind the door.
Exiting the shower, you notice you haven't shut the bathroom door completely. The tiny crack allowed you to see Aaron sitting at the table, staring at the file in front of him. If you could see him, he could probably see you.
This is fucking crazy.
Maybe it was a breeze from the vent or maybe you mastered some form of telekinesis but the door cracked open further, about four inches wide now. You don’t make a move to close it.
Heart pounding, you dry yourself, turning away from the door as you bend over to dry your legs. The vent was the only noise you hear as you do so. You’re about to cave and shut the door but you feel eyes on you as you stand up straight.
You don’t turn around. Confidence grows as you take your time drying your hair with the towel, sometimes running a hand through it to separate the wet and semi-dry strands. The reality of the situation finally dawns on you when you squeeze the remaining water out of your hair.
Growing wet at the thought of Aaron watching you, nakedly drying yourself, you can’t help but give him a small peek at what he was missing. You turn around, enough so he could see a glimpse of your pussy. No, you don’t look in his direction, but you can see him staring from your peripherals.
The door had cracked open further since you last saw it. There was no doubt he saw every inch of your backside as you hadn’t wrapped the towel around you once.
You let your hands squeeze your breasts once before bending down to grab a t-shirt from your go bag. It’s oversize, the hem falling just below your ass. Putting a pair of red panties on, you remember how much Aaron likes the color.
Once you’re done, you zipped up your bag and looked in the mirror. It’s obvious how free your breasts are under the shirt, your nipples peeking from the thin material. Reading the words on the shirt, you realize it was one of Spencer’s. You remember stealing it from his duffel after swimming into the lake to save an unsub.
Your lips twitched into a smirk. Opening the door, you were met with Aaron’s unrelenting stare, eyes drifting up and down your body. Not giving him the satisfaction, you ignore him, dropping your bag on your bed.
Wait.
Looking around the room, you notice just one bed.
Shit.
In your distracted haze about the one-bed problem, you failed to notice Aaron moving. A hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you back towards a hard chest. You freeze, glancing behind you to see a heated Aaron. His lips graze your ear.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”
3K notes · View notes
avis-writeshq · 8 months
Text
platform ten – spencer reid
summary: two months after he embarrassingly got caught ogling at the pretty girl on the train, Spencer’s team begins to suspect something.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: friends to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).
warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!), reader wears lipgloss, excessive mentions of Edgar Allen Poe (one of my favourite Gothic authors), not proof read
wc: 3.4k
part one: carriage six
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“So, I’ve been reading Poe’s works,” you begin, your headphones around your neck and you pull out ‘The Complete Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe’, flipping to ‘Annabel Lee’. 
Spencer watches as you flick to the page, his heart soaring at the sight of the annotations that litter the page. There are different colours and highlighters across the words and from what he could tell pink talked about language and that was the colour that stood out to him most. You bring the book closer so that he can read your annotations too and his heart stutters in his chest at the close proximity. He can smell the strawberry and honey shampoo in your hair and the heat rises up to his cheeks. It’s intoxicating. 
“I really don’t think the narrator is a crazy psychopath,” you say, glancing at him. “It just sounds like he’s really, seriously in love with her which just makes a bunch of people jealous.”
He watches the way you point to a certain line, ‘But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee.’ 
“Does that not sound like something you would say when you’re in love?” You ask, swooning a little. “It’s romantic, don’t you think? And their love is so brilliant and pure that the angels stole her away from him. I mean, it’s sad, but it’s kind of a picture of how amazing their love is.”
He nods along, his cheeks flushed because that’s what he thinks when he thinks of you. But he’ll never tell you that. How could he even dream of you feeling the same? The idea in itself is just so bizarre that he doesn’t even dare to entertain the thought. Not even when it’s late at night and he’s by himself, thinking through every single interaction you’ve had with him since he finally talked to you two months ago. 
“And I mean, think about it,” you continue, gesticulating with every word, eyes wide with excitement. “The last stanza. He’s still in love with her even after she’s passed away. How romantic is that?”
“Very romantic,” Spencer agrees, and he wonders if that’s how he looks when he rambles. “Alright, it’s definitely a love poem.”
He relishes in the way your eyes light up at his acceptance, the way you grin up at him and he wants to make you smile this way every day. His eyes wander to your lips and he swallows thickly. You’re wearing that lipgloss again, a cool berry tone that makes your lips shine and–
“Spencer? Are you okay?” 
He all but jolts out of his trance and he coughs awkwardly, his cheeks flushed. “Yes!” He squeaks, before clearing his throat and repeating the word. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”
He watches as an amused smile quirks at your lips as you ask, “are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he manages to croak, his ears red. 
He can’t even look at you. His eyes turn back to the book you’re holding, reading through the annotations you’ve made on the page for the nth time over. This is an example of one of the instances he doesn’t want to remember and prays that his stop would miraculously be next. 
“I’ve been reading The Tell-Tale Heart,” you say, bringing him out of his thoughts.
Spencer forces himself to maintain eye contact with you and he manages a small, “really?”
You laugh and nod. “Yep! It’s really good. Kinda creepy.”
“It is a little creepy,” he admits, his gaze flicking to your lips again. He’s kicking himself internally, asking, ‘who’s the creepy one now, weirdo?!’
He figures that you’re either incredibly gracious or incredibly used to it because you don’t mention the way his attention wavers. 
“You don’t seem okay.”
Or so he thought.
“What— um— what makes you say that?” He asks, clearing his throat.
You shoot him a smile. “You’re not going on about the text like you usually do.”
He opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his brain short circuiting. He can imagine Derek snickering and Emily commenting her usual, ‘IQ of 187, slashed to 60’. 
“Spencer?” You look amused, a smile on his face and a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “Are you—“
“I’m fine!” Spencer says quickly, ears burning. “I’m just— thinking? Yes, thinking.”
You laugh. “Dangerous pastime.”
“What?”
“I— never mind,” you shake your head, continuing to laugh. “But I do want to hear your thoughts on ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ at some point.”
“Totally!” He jolts, and he’s kicking himself internally for being so eager. “Yes. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
The train lurches to a stop and Spencer gets up from his seat. 
“Bye, Spencer,” you say, smiling brilliantly at him, and it takes every ounce of self control in him to not just grab your face and kiss you.
“Bye,” he says, saying your name, before getting off the train.
*** 
Spencer has been acting weird. That is the conclusion Derek has come to as he watches the youngest member of their team enter the bullpen with the widest grin on the planet for the fourth time that week. He watches as Spencer sits down at his desk, looking like a literal teenager, and gets down to work. He has his earphones plugged in, the kind you would get at a dollar store, or the complementary ones you get from airports that never fit your ears right and leave you with headaches because of the horrible audio quality. Derek supposes he’s just listening to Beethoven or Bach or another dead classical musician. But as he passes Spencer’s desk, he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks. Spencer is humming. No, not just humming. He’s muttering lyrics under his breath. Since when did classical music have lyrics?
“What the hell…?” Derek asks under his breath to no one in particular. 
“You talking about Reid?” Emily asks, an amused grin on her face. “He’s acting weird.”
“Thank God, I thought I was the only one.” JJ seemingly appears out of nowhere, standing beside them with her arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at her lips. 
Rossi enters the bullpen, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting at his desk, blissfully unaware. “We talking about the kid?”
“He’s been acting weird all week,” Derek insists, his brows furrowing. “What do you think it is?”
“Maybe he won a chess tournament,” JJ says with a soft laugh. 
Emily rolls her eyes at the idea. “Please, Reid’s probably the winner of every single chess tournament in the state.”
“Maybe his mother is doing better?” Rossi suggests.
“Doesn’t explain why he’s listening to, I don’t know, not Mozart,” Derek points out.
There’s a silence that pulls over the group as they stare at the back of Reid’s head. It isn’t long before he turns around to face his coworkers, raising an eyebrow.
“… Why are you staring at me?” Spencer asks, giving them all pointed looks. 
“You’re acting weird,” Morgan says, cutting straight to the chase. “Care to share with the class?”
Spencer offers them all confused looks. “I’m… not acting weird? If anything, you guys are the ones acting weird.”
“Ohh, no, don’t turn this around on us.” Emily grins, walking over to him. “What’s going on?”
“What— guys, what happened to ‘no profiling each other’?” Spencer spluttered, shooting accusatory looks towards his coworkers.
“We’re just worried, that’s all,” JJ says with maternal sympathy, but Spencer can tell that she’s hiding a smile. 
He groans, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “I’m fine guys. I’m not acting ‘weird’ or anything.”
“Who are you listening to, Reid?” Rossi asks quickly, nodding towards the ear phones. 
“What?” Spencer’s head snaps up, redness crawling up to his ears. 
Emily smirks. “Yeah Reid. Who are you listening to?”
“No one,” he answers, avoiding their gaze. “I’m uh— I’m going back to work.”
He quickly turns his chair around, busting himself with his files. His co-workers all exchange glances, mischievous grins on their faces. 
“You know, I could just ask Garcia to dig into your phone,” Derek says with a shrug. “Or you could tell us yourself.”
Spencer shoots him a light hearted glare. “You wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You wouldn’t.”
***
Spencer thinks he’s going to die of mortification. He spent that entire week downloading all of the released songs by Taylor Swift, dutifully listening to each song and reporting back to you on his opinions. He has since come to a conclusion: Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius. Granted, he doesn’t have much experience with other branches of music that involves lyrics, but he figures it’s pretty similar to poetry. Regardless, he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s in for a world of teasing and tasteful jabs towards his sudden shift in music taste.
He’s also been doing this thing called texting, and he even went as far as getting a new phone and email address just so that he could properly contact you. He’s been in contact with you for the past eight weeks, going as far as messaging and calling you during break times and hiding in the bathroom to have an ounce of privacy. He feels like a changed person, all because of a tiny handheld device that fits in his back pocket. And you. Mostly you. The worst thing about this entire situation is the fact that Morgan did in fact manage to convince Garcia to snoop into his phone. 
“Alright, Reid, quit hiding. Who’s the girl?” Derek demands, slapping a piece of paper onto Spencer’s desk. It’s a log of calls and downloads. In other words, it’s a log of all the times he’s called the same number and all the Taylor Swift songs he’s downloaded. 
“Girl? What— what girl?” Spencer asks, playing dumb and willing himself to look Derek in the eye. His mind is spinning. ‘Blink evenly. Maintain eye contact. Don’t stutter. Answer his questions evenly. Play dumb. There is no girl, there is no girl there is no—‘
“Reid? Reid? Spencer!” Derek snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting him out of his trance.
“Huh?” Spencer jolts, snapping out of his trance. “What?”
Derek snorts at his reaction. “Look, kid. This person calls your cell every day at 12:30, which just so happens to be in two minutes. So, either you tell me and I let you have your fun, or she calls you and she’ll be hearing my voice instead of yours.”
Spencer scoffs, holding his phone firmly in the palm of his hand. “There is no girl, Morgan.”
“Right.” 
“I’m serious!” Spencer says, his voice going up and octave and he cringes internally. Smooth. “There is no girl.”
“Totally believe you.”
He groans, wiping a hand over his face to calm himself down. Before he could respond, the phone in his hand begins to ring. A smirk tugs at Derek’s lips and he immediately lunges for the phone, eliciting a yelp from Spencer who leaps from his seat. 
“Morgan— Morgan no—“
“C’mon kid, it’ll be a lot easier if you just give in!”
“No! Nope, nope, Morgan I swear to-“
In seconds, Derek snatches Spencer’s phone out of his hand, a triumphant look on his face. He keeps Spencer at arm’s length as he picks up the phone.
“Hey Spence!” A voice rings through the phone.
“Sorry, sweetheart, not Spencer,” Derek responds, his voice smug.
“… that’s concerning,” The voice responds slowly, cautiously. “Who is this?”
Spencer grabs the phone out of Derek’s hand, running out of the bullpen as quickly as his long legs could carry him, flipping his coworker the finger before he leaves. 
“Hello?” He asks into the phone. “I’m so sorry, that was Derek, my co-worker.”
“Oh, the bald one!” You say quickly, recalling his name from the photos Spencer had shown you beforehand. “I thought it was like… a bad guy or something.”
He laughs softly into the phone, his cheeks warm and wearing a smile that could split his face in two. “Don’t worry, he’s not a bad guy. A pain in the ass, maybe, but not a bad guy.”
He hears you chuckle from the other side of the line. “Yeah, he seems like a nice person. Your entire team sounds really cool.”
“Maybe you could meet them at some point,” Spencer says quietly, his heart thundering in his chest. “I mean, they kind of already know you exist.”
“That would be fun,” You muse, and he hears the soft ruffling of cling wrap in the background.
“Lunch?” 
He hears you hum in response, and he can’t help but chuckle. There’s a silence for a few seconds, and he assumes you were eating, before your voice picks up again.
“I’d love to meet your team at some point, Spence. They seem like really amazing people.” 
He can’t help but smile, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. They are. You’d love them, and I’m sure they’d love you just as much.”
Before long, lunch break is over and Spencer begrudgingly hangs up and returns to the bullpen, his team all wearing frustratingly smug faces. He rolls his eyes, not paying them any kind as he returns to his desk. He ignores the very blatant whistle Derek does in his direction and the snort Emily fails to hide.
“So…” JJ begins, dragging her words out. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”
Spencer chokes on air and bites his tongue, grimacing at the taste of blood. “I do not have a girlfriend.” It’s not a lie.
“But you want her to be,” Emily says, smirking. 
“No! Yes. I don’t know, maybe?” Spencer feels like a teenage boy being lectured by his parents. Not that he knows what that feels like.
“Alright, well, have you asked her on a date?” Derek asks as he raises an eyebrow.
Spencer coughs, reaching for his mug of stale coffee. That’s all he needs to do to answer Derek’s question, because in moments Derek is screaming in his ear. 
“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?!”
“We talk loads of times,” Spencer insists, hiding behind his disgustingly old coffee. “We just never… we’re just friends.”
Rossi bites back a chuckle. “Yes, because friends call each other every day during their lunch breaks.”
Spencer feels his face grow impossibly hotter and he chugs the last of his coffee. He cringes before turning his attention back to his files in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t work.
“How did you meet her?” JJ asks, gentler this time. 
Spencer flushes and plays with his watch. “On the train.”
“That’s very you,” she laughs, ruffling his hair. “She seems really nice, Spencer.”
He preens at the compliment, his mind drifting to your pretty hair and glossy lips. He sports a grin and he nods. “She’s really, really nice.”
*** 
Spencer sits next to you on the train as usual. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is combed to be a little neater, only for his efforts to be destroyed when a strong gust of wind hits his face the moment he left his apartment. He reminds himself to put a comb into his bag after work. You’re talking about another one of Poe’s works, this time ‘The Raven’, another love poem. Your eyes are bright with excitement as you go on and on about the writing style and whatever else. 
Spencer is far from religious but your existence alone is enough to have him thanking the heaven’s that he is alive. He can’t help but smile every time you do, his gaze perpetually on your lips. He feels a little guilty about it, about how he can’t even control himself when he’s around you but you’re just so beautiful that he can’t help himself. He feels even guiltier when he realises he hasn’t processed a word you’ve said. 
“... and that’s why I think Edgar Allen Poe is really just a huge softie who wants to be loved,” you finish, snapping the book closed. “What do you think, Doctor Genius?”
“Totally,” Spencer agrees quickly, almost biting his tongue. “Absolutely.”
You laugh and Spencer thinks he’s going to faint. 
“Where are you up to in your Taylor Swift project?” You ask teasingly, nudging his arm. If it were anyone else, Spencer would have grimaced and shrugged them off but you aren’t just ‘anyone’. You’re the most amazing person in the world. 
“I’m up to 1989 track 9, Wildest Dreams,” Spencer recites, pulling out his notebook from his inner jacket pocket. It’s a small leatherbound notebook that he’s been writing all his thoughts in regards to the Taylor Swift songs, all in chronological order. He’s actually quite proud of it as he flicks to the latest page. “I really like this one. I did some research and I found out that the bass sound in the background is actually her heartbeat. That’s pretty interesting.”
You almost scream in excitement, leaning closer to him to read his notes. “I love this song! It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song ever and it’s just so pretty, you know?”
He nods in agreement, his cheeks flushed at the close proximity and he finds that he can no longer feel his tongue. He should get that checked out. 
“It reminds me of you sometimes,” you say, completely unabashed. Spencer thinks you’re trying to kill him. 
“What?” He asks meekly, recalling every lyric from the song. 
You freeze, flustered and you pull away from him. Spencer frowns at the sudden space but he watches as you stammer and stumble over your words.
“I just meant– you know, it’s a good song! That’s all.” You laugh anxiously, fiddling with the book in your hand. “Never mind, just ignore me. Tell me more about what you like about the song.”
In an almost uncharacteristic bout of confidence, Spencer reaches out to take your hand in his. At first, he thought his head was going to explode. It felt heavy and light all at the same time and he was almost about to pull his hand away when you squeezed his fingers. Just like that, all doubts are gone. You’re smiling at him and Spencer knows that he would do absolutely anything to make sure to keep it there. 
When the train lurches to a stop at Quantico, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to move. He’s grinning ear-to-ear, intertwining your fingers with his. 
“Isn’t this your stop?” You ask gently, loosening your hold on his hand. 
He shrugs, holding onto your hand tighter. “I’m always early. I can be late for once.”
Besides, he thinks to himself, inching closer to you, this is so worth it.
Pride bubbles in his heart when he hears you laugh again and his smile grows impossibly wider. 
“We’re almost at my stop,” you say, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. “We should go out. You know, instead of just meeting on the train.”
Spencer nods immediately at the suggestion. “I’d like that. Are you free on Saturday?”
“I’m definitely free on Saturday,” you respond, squeezing his hand again. 
Spencer sits there with you until you make it to your stop. The corners of his eyes are crinkled and he feels happy, so goddamn happy, and he wonders how he’s lived without you. Before you get off the train, he calls your name. He relishes in the way you turn around, the confusion palpable in your eyes. 
“Yeah?”
He takes a step closer to you, his face in front of yours. His heartbeat is in his ears but at the same time he feels an incredibly ironic sense of calm. In seconds, he presses his lips to yours in a short kiss. He grins at you as you stumble out of the train dazed, waving goodbye. From the window he could see you press your cold hands to your cheeks before reaching for your phone. 
The smile that grows on his face when he sees your face light up his phone is embarrassing. It’s goofy and silly and he is so grateful that the carriage is empty. 
“Hello?” 
“You cannot–” your voice comes through the speaker and he grins again– “you cannot just kiss me randomly and then leave.”
“Technically the train left, not me,” Spencer says with a small laugh.
You’re quiet on the other end before replying, “We need a re-do on Saturday.”
Spencer has no complaints. 
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reblogs are always appreciated!
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luveline · 5 months
Note
your bombshell!reader x spencer is feeding me so well, i'm obsessed!! SJSJS since we've seen reader jealous, is it possible to have a fic where it's spencer that's jealous?
thank u!! fem!reader
Your outfit today is simple. Pencil skirt, dark stockings, hair pristine. The thing that catches Spencer's attention, holds it between two squeezing palms, is the shirt and blazer ensemble you've styled. It's cut to fit, sleek and dark and hard to look away from. 
You brush past the back of Hotch's chair with a sigh, clearly unaware of the attention you're garnering from across the way. “What's wrong with him?” you ask. 
“The same thing as usual,” Hotch says. 
“It's not like we've ever instantly solved a case. Gideon knows this takes time.”
Elle pokes her tongue into her cheek, eyes flared wide. She says a lot without saying anything, flicking through the police files in front of her dispassionately.
“How come you stayed?”
It takes Spencer a moment to realise you're talking to him. “What?” 
“You didn't go with Gideon?” You hold your chin in your hand. “Not getting along anymore?” 
Spencer isn't not getting along with his mentor. He would've accompanied Gideon to meet with a past mass murderer, only you're here, and so he'd found unrelated reasons to stay. 
“We're fine,” Spencer says, not wanting to say more and give himself away. 
“Well, he took Morgan.” You pout, your voice dripping to a wistful whine. “What am I gonna do now without him? None of you guys ever wanna play with me.” 
Hotch smiles to himself. Spencer's stomach ties itself in knots, a tight noose that grows tighter still when you notice his expression and lean in toward your superior. “What's that smile for, Hotchner?” 
“Don't you have emails to look through?”  
You hold your cheek in your hand lightly, fingertips digging into the soft of your cheek. Your smile is like a kick to the chest, achingly sweet on such a pretty face. “No…” Your pinky digs into the corner of your mouth. “I don't remember that being on my agenda today.” 
“Consider it an addition.” 
Is Hotch flirting back? Spencer isn't sure why that strikes him so hard. Maybe because Hotch would actually have a chance with you if he wanted it; your flirting with Hotch is more real than if it were with Spencer, because Spencer is a twenty-something know-it-all who still dresses like his mom buys his clothes. 
“It's a lot of emails, boss,” you say. 
“You have time. Start with the ones sent by Hughes and work your way down.” Hotch slides the login information across the desk into your reach. 
You look at it unhappily. Look up at him. 
Just being looked at by you is a full body experience. Whenever you look at him, he begs himself to play it cool as Hotch is now, to treat it as the affectionate playfulness of a friend rather than serious flirting. He'd have a better chance of being taken seriously by you if he didn't blush whenever you so much as breathed in the same room. 
He wishes he could respond calmly like Hotch. (He wishes you'd flirt with him and him alone. He buries that deep.) 
Envy eats at his hands. Pins and needles he tries to shake away. His movements draw your attention, and your smile worsens, which is to say sweetens, like seeing him again is a treat for the eyes. 
“You'll help me, won't you, baby?” you ask.
He goes a little blind. 
Hotch and Elle watch the encounter with similar parts pity and amusement. 
“You can read through them so quickly, I could really use your…” —you drag your fingertips down your face until your nails are at your jaw— “expertise.” 
“Reid has his own tasks–” 
“I can help,” Spencer interrupts. 
You drop your hand from your face altogether. “Thank you. Have I mentioned how much I missed you while I was away?” 
“Only five times,” Elle says under her breath. 
“They try so very hard to keep us apart. It's not fair.” 
Because unlike Reid, you don't have multiple degrees. You're still learning, and you can't be here permanently, but your talent, your knack for profiling, is unignorable. You're guaranteed a place on the team as soon as you can prove yourself to Strauss. Without a Gideon to vouch for you, that could take a while, and yet you're never jealous of Spencer skipping a few hurdles to get here. 
If anything, you admire him. “They don't understand our bond, that's all. And together we're hard to beat. Isn't that right, Spence?” 
Perhaps Spencer shouldn't be jealous. You don't call Hotch by anything so saccharine, after all. 
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foxy-eva · 5 months
Text
Prom Night
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Summary: After everyone shared their sad (or non-existent) prom stories, Penelope decided to host a BAU Prom Night, giving Spencer the perfect excuse to finally ask out Reader
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 
Category: Fluff, Smut
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) a bit of miscommunication, jealous Spencer, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex
Author’s Note: This is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party Challenge!
Word count: 2.8k
Masterlist
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“And that’s how I ended up with a broken heart on prom night,” JJ concluded her story after a couple of other BAU members had shared their prom experiences in their lunch break. 
“Aww, that’s so sad!” Penelope cooed. 
“I didn’t even go to prom,” Spencer chimed in. “I mean, I was twelve, but still…”
Derek looked at you and asked, “What about you, pretty girl? Did anything exciting happen on your prom night?”
You took a moment to think about it and shook your head, “Don’t even get me started.” 
“You know what!” Penelope suddenly exclaimed. “We should throw our very own prom night! This way we can make up for all those miserable experiences.”
“That sounds fun,” JJ agreed. “I would love to take Will to prom.” 
“Yes, that’s perfect. Everyone has to bring a date!” Penelope locked eyes with Spencer and made herself very clear, “No exceptions. Not even for you, doctor.” 
Spencer cleared his voice as a slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks. It made you smile to see him like this and you wondered if he already had someone to ask to go to prom with him. His eyes met yours for a moment and your heart immediately skipped a beat. 
To everyone’s surprise Hotch agreed to have a BAU Prom Night and made sure that you could use one of the function rooms at Quantico. Over the next few days you helped Penelope figure out the details until the date of your big night was set. 
Everything was going as planned except for one detail - you still didn’t have a date. You were sure that you were the only one at this point, even Spencer seemed to have found someone. At least that was what you assumed after you kept catching him and Derek mumbling about something (or someone) and stopping once you got close enough to eavesdrop. 
Three days before the festivities began, you and Penelope were waiting for fresh coffee in the kitchen while talking about the perfect color arrangement for decorations. Spencer approached and noticed that the coffee wasn’t ready yet, so he joined into the conversation by sharing some facts about color theory. 
“Hey, Y/N,” you turned your head to spot Anderson approaching. “I heard you don’t have a date for prom night yet.” 
“You don’t?” Spencer exclaimed. “I thought you had a boyfriend.” 
You flashed him a confused look and muttered, “What? No.”
“But you mentioned this guy a few weeks ago. I overheard you talking about a date with him,” Spencer stammered. 
“I never heard from him again,” you clarified and turned to Anderson. “And no, I don’t have a prom date yet.” 
The man you had never paid any attention to before smiled at you and said, “Well, now you do!” 
Spencer looked shocked at Anderson’s words and stormed out of the room without saying anything. You had never seen him acting this way and watched as he disappeared in the empty conference room. You flashed Anderson an apologetic look before following Spencer to talk to him. 
You found him sitting at the table, pretending to look through a file when you sat down beside him. “Spencer, what’s going on?” 
“I thought you already had a date,” he mumbled without looking at you. “And now you’re going with Anderson.”
Slowly you got a hunch what all of this was about. It made your heart flutter to realize that he wanted to ask you out. 
“I haven’t agreed to go with him, yet,” you told him. 
He finally locked eyes with you and asked, “Do you want to go with him?” 
“I don’t want to go alone. But the guy I actually want to go with hasn’t asked me yet.” 
Spencer didn’t respond, instead his eyes found the file on the desk again. You couldn’t believe how oblivious he was and realized that you had to spell it out for him. “Spencer, I’m talking about you.” 
“Wh..What?” It took a few seconds until he realized the meaning of your words. “Oh.” 
“Are you gonna ask me out now or what?” You giggled. 
“Yes! Yes. Uhm,” he cleared his voice and took a deep breath. “Do you want to go to prom with me?”
You smiled at him and nodded. “I would love to.” 
A wide grin appeared on his face and you noticed a sparkle in his eyes you had never seen before. Spencer seemed genuinely happy. 
“Should I uhm… pick you up at your place?” Spencer wondered. 
“No, I’ll get ready here because I have to help with decorations. But you could pick me up right here and we’ll walk down to the function room together?” 
“That sounds lovely.” 
After you turned down Anderson’s invitation, you and the rest of the team had to get back to your job for the next few days. It was hard to focus on work as your mind kept drifting off to the fact that Spencer had finally asked you out. Anytime that thought crossed your mind, you felt your cheeks heating up and your heart began beating erratically inside your chest. 
For the first time since you started working at the BAU, Spencer didn't look right away whenever your eyes met his. His glances lingered on you and it made you feel like you were the only person in the room with him.
When the big night finally arrived, you spent most of the day preparing the function room for the evening. About thirty minutes before everyone else would arrive, you hastily disappeared in the restroom to change into your dress, fix your hair and put on some make-up. 
Spencer arrived at the conference room just a few minutes after you. He wore suits most days but you had never seen him wearing anything that fancy. He looked incredibly handsome in his black suit, white dress shirt and bow tie. 
Before you had a chance to tell him how gorgeous he looked, he stammered, “Wow… you look stunning.” 
Your fingertips brushed over the soft fabric of your dress as if to straighten out wrinkles that weren’t there. A wide smile spread over your face at the compliment. It was no coincidence that you picked a purple dress, aware that it was Spencer’s favorite color. 
“Thank you. You look very handsome, too.”
A rosy shade spread over Spencer’s cheeks while his lips curled into a coy smile. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments until he seemed to remember the item he held in his hands. 
“Here, I got you something,” he said as he let you take a look. 
It was a small corsage with white and lavender-colored blossoms. It matched your dress perfectly. You reached out your hand, implicitly telling him to put it over your wrist. 
His fingertips gently brushed over the back of your hand as he placed the corsage on your arm. His touch was innocent but ignited sparks inside your chest nonetheless. He must have felt it too because when his eyes found yours you noticed that warm glimmer in them again. 
As the two of you entered the function room the party had already started. The dance floor was filled with your coworkers, moving in ways you had never seen before. The colors of the balloons matched the rest of the decor and you were more than happy that everything had worked out so wonderfully.
“So, what do you think about your very first prom, boy wonder?” Penelope giggled as she approached the both of you. 
“It’s perfect,” was all he had to say.
Penelope grabbed you both at your arms to pull you onto the dance floor. Spencer protested at first but gave in once you took his hand in yours. You joined the others in their silly little dances and to your surprise, Spencer did too. That was until a slow song came on. 
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he turned to you and placed his hands on your waist. You let yours rest on his shoulders and began swaying from side to side. 
“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing,” he chuckled as he looked down at his feet. 
“You’re doing great, Spencer,” you sincerely responded as you moved a little closer towards him until there barely was any distance left between your bodies. 
“Is this better than your actual prom night?” He wanted to know. “You never actually told us about it.” 
You couldn't stop your hands from moving to the nape of his neck, gently playing with a few loose curls as you purred, “It’s so much better.”
Just when you thought that he was about to lean down to kiss you, you noticed the high-pitched laughter of your female coworkers. 
“Aah, look! They are exactly like those teenagers in every high school romcom!” JJ chirped as she pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the two of you. 
You turned your head to find her face in the crowd, prompting Penelope to chime in, “No, don’t stop, my two lovebirds! Go on, kiss!” 
You felt your cheeks heating up at the realization that you had an audience in this intimate moment.
“Do you wanna try out the photo booth?” Spencer suggested to get away from the curious glances of your work family. 
“That sounds fun!”
And it was fun. You spent a while posing like those typical prom couples before taking a bunch of silly pictures with the props Penelope had bought. 
“Okay, I think we’re done,” you laughed once your cheeks started hurting from smiling so much. 
Spencer shook his head and pressed the button once more. “One last set!” 
Just when the countdown of the camera reached the number zero, you felt Spencer’s lips on your cheek. Your head was spinning after everything that had happened tonight. It seemed like finally being close to the man you had pined after for months gave you the courage to show some initiative. 
You turned your head to find his mouth, capturing it in a soft kiss with no intention to stop even after the last photo was taken. Kissing him then was chaste and sweet and so, so perfect. 
“Busted!” You heard Derek’s voice as he approached the photo booth with his date. “You two should get a room.” 
Almost in unison the both of you responded, “Shut up, Morgan.”
The next few hours flew by quicker than either of you would have liked. Spencer must have noticed how exhausted you were, so he offered, “It’s getting pretty late. I can drive you home if you want?”
Even though you didn't want this night to end, you knew that it was probably for the best. “Yeah, I would like that.”
Spencer nodded and took your hand as he led you out of the room. The way to his car seemed endless and the need to be close to each other was all-consuming. There was no way you could make it without giving into your desperation.
The elevator seemed like the perfect place for your second kiss. Spencer pushed you against one of the walls, his hands cupping your face as he leaned down to find your lips. This time it was far from innocent, the way he instantly deepened the kiss let you know that he must have fantasized about this moment for just as long as you had. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against your lips. “I’ll never get enough of you.” 
What followed felt like a haze, between longing glances, sweet kisses and bright laughter you somehow made it to your doorstep. Spencer leaned down to find your lips once more before he said, “I would really like to take you out to dinner sometime.”
You kissed him again and mumbled against his lips, “I would like that, too.”
His smile was soft when he purred, “Goodnight. I had a great time tonight.” 
Right when you wanted to respond, you remembered something. Your facial expression must have given it away, because Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “What’s wrong?” 
Without really thinking about it, you told him, “I can’t get out of this dress alone.”
His saccharine smile morphed into a playful smirk. “Is that so?”
“I know that sounds like the lamest excuse to… you know,” you giggled. “But it's true. Penelope had to help me put it on earlier. There’s no way I’ll be able to get it off on my own.” 
Instead of teasing you some more, Spencer simply followed you inside your apartment. You lost the ability to form any coherent thought once you turned around and Spencer touched your back to undo the zipper. He opened it all the way down to the small of your back. The way his knuckles brushed over your exposed skin was intoxicating.
Once the dress dropped to the floor, you turned around again. Spencer let his sight wander over body for a split second before he found your eyes. You noticed how his fingers twitched and he licked over his lips. 
“If you don’t tell me to leave right now I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”
You stepped closer to him and whispered, “Stay.” 
That was all he needed to hear. His hands were on you in an instant, exploring the curves and dips of your body while your bodies melted into one another in a passionate kiss. With joined forces you helped each other shed each piece of clothing as you stumbled into your bedroom. Spencer pushed you onto the mattress and you welcomed him on top of you. 
He began trailing kisses down your neck before biting down on your pulse point. Your whole body felt like it was floating on a cloud as you felt his lips wandering over your skin. 
“Would you have let him take your dress off, too?” He mumbled against your neck.
It took you a moment to realize that he was talking about Anderson. “No,” you sighed. “I’m yours, Spencer.”
He moaned in response to your words and found your lips once more. One of his hands wandered down your body, greedily grabbing at your skin until it found its destination between your legs. The moment he noticed that you were already dripping with desire for him, he groaned, “You’re mine.”
Your whole body felt like it was on fire when he began dragging his fingertips through your slick folds. When he focussed on your little bud, you couldn't help but start to grind your core against his hand. Your own hands became curious and wandered from his shoulders down his body until your fingers could wrap around his hardness. 
The sounds of his pleasure spurred you further on as you moved your hand up and down, letting your thumb glide over his weeping tip. He felt hot and heavy inside your palm and you got impatient to find out how good he’d feel inside of you. 
Spencer's eyes followed your hand when it let go of him to grab a condom from the nightstand instead. He was quick to put it on before kneeling between your legs. The way he took a moment to let his eyes graze over your body almost felt more intimate than anything you had done until then. 
When he leaned over you he reached between your bodies to guide his cock to your opening. Your body welcomed him without any resistance and you relished the sensation of him filling you out perfectly. 
“Fuck!” He groaned as you clenched around him. “I have wanted to do this for so long.” 
With your arms and legs wrapped around his body you brought him impossibly close. 
“Take me,” you demanded before kissing him again.
He began pushing into you, slowly at first but with an accelerated pace once he seemed sure that you could take it. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure and your bodies colliding over and over again. 
When he felt you getting tighter around him, he propped himself up on one arm and  reached down between your bodies with his other hand. When he found your most sensitive spot, he instantly began drawing tight circles around it. 
“Are you gonna come for me?” He sighed as if it hadn’t been obvious. 
You were already too far gone to answer him, your climax taking the both of you by surprise. When he felt your walls pulsing around his hardness he praised you, “Good girl.” 
Just a few moments later he fell over the edge himself, throbbing inside you before collapsing into your arms. He began mumbling sweet nothings into your ear while your fingertips danced over his back. 
After cleaning up, you found your home in each other's arms. 
“I’m really glad I got to experience my first prom with you,” Spencer cooed before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I can’t believe you almost went with Anderson though.”
“I can't believe you almost didn’t ask me out,” You snickered in response.
“Fair point.”
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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the-au-thor · 5 months
Note
HEEEEY what about the bestfriend blurb with Spenceeeerrr
Im dying here you know
have a great day
I appreciate you screaming the hey out of me. Am at the hospital because this almost-27-year-old-little-girl discovered she is a chronic asthmatic :) I don't wanna die and I don't want you to die sooo, you asked you'll receive.
Note from this author: This is more than a blurb, but we will still call it a blurb. It contains delicate topics so, I recommend reading the warning contents here AND I'm a pretender and delusional writer, and a super cool nurse answered my creepy questions last night during his shift. There's a bunch of medical terms I'm using here that are probably so very erroneous so my apologies, play along with me, please.
Also theres a part 1, 2 and 3
Bestfriend Blurb #4
Summary: You and Spencer are best friends and colleagues who are deeply in love for each other but oblivious at the same time. Let's see how much it takes for them to find out.
Words: 1.3 k
DELICATE CONTENT read the warning
You had put on your headphones; that was a clear "not to disturb" signal for everyone around. Something that slightly bothered Hotchner was that you were indeed doing so in the middle of a police station during an investigation into a series of murders. He didn't say anything because, at least, you had gone to get them decent coffee (not the one the sheriff's secretary made), and you were reviewing on the map the locations where the child abductions were occurring and where the unsub had left the bodies.
Your brow was furrowed, and you hadn't added sugar to your coffee; Spencer observed this from a distance with curiosity. You always added sugar, especially in the morning. They had been sent to Maryland after a case involving an unknown subject who kidnapped infants and left them in public places for everyone to see a day or two later. It was a complicated case, especially because they were children, and the time between abduction and death was so short that it seemed hopeless for the families.
"They just kidnapped another child. Tommy Gibson, three years old," Sheriff Saget entered the room they had been given for the case investigation. You turned, taking off your headphones, paying attention for the first time to something other than the points marked on the map. Spencer could hear Janis's raspy voice coming from your headphones even from a distance. "Same victimology, same modus operandi; he killed the person he was taking care by, his godmother, and took him from the scene in broad daylight. His parents arrived two hours after leaving him and recognized the signs from the news. They immediately called the police to report it," he added, "We've sent everything to your analyst, and she'll be investigating it," he announced, and as if on cue, their phones started ringing, indicating the influx of information that Penelope was undoubtedly sending them.
Hotchner hurried to contact her and put her on speaker to bring everyone up to date.
"Does it say if there was any kind of violence?" J.J. asked.
The sheriff nodded as Penelope grimaced with displeasure.
"Yes, the door was smashed, but there wasn't much violence in Tommy's godmother's death. The blow was gruesome but effective."
"He killed her with a rigid object, a poker; an investigation is underway right now," Rossi remarked, focused on the police report.
"He used a knife and a hammer for the previous ones," Derek added with technical expertise.
"Because he doesn't care about them. The nanny, the grandmother, and the godmother were just a means to an end," you murmured, leaning your hands on the table and looking directly at Rossi.
"I'm getting permission for public security cameras," Penelope rushed to inform. "Crosses social lines, but so far, he has stuck with the same race; Caucasian boys between two and three years old," Derek said with technical experience.
"Tommy's parents are on their way to give their version of the events," the sheriff informed Hotchner, who nodded.
He turned to Penelope, "Anything else, Garcia?"
"So far, there isn't much connecting the children except their age. I'll be looking into them a bit more. There has to be something in common," Penelope said her goodbyes and immediately started gathering information, ending the call.
Everyone looked at Hotchner, awaiting his directive. He looked at J.J. and Prentiss.
"J.J., you and Emily will go with Tommy's parents. David, Derek, and I will go to the morgue to find out more informationabout this unsub." Then his eyes landed on you, and you knew exactly what he would say next. "You and Spencer will go to the crime scene and figure out what connects Tommy to the rest of the abducted children." You nodded, stretching your back and getting ready to leave. "One more thing; take your camera and leave those headphones."
You felt your cheeks warm with embarrassment, swiftly removing the headphones, nodding.
"Yes, sir," you mumbled, starting to leave the place, trying to focus on the case and not the recent slight embarrassment.
"Are you okay?" Spencer hurried to catch up with you, concerned. You nodded, but that didn't satisfy him. "Is it because of the children?"
"Wait!" both of you heard from behind, turning to see a police officer stopping you with excitement. "The sheriff told me to go with you and see your work."
You sighed, looking at the pretty blonde approaching, you finally answered Spencer "Of course, it's about the children."
If Spencer hadn't been too busy answering the officer's incessant questions from the back seat of the car, he would have realized that it wasn't about the children. In fact, the real issue was much more humiliating. Apart from hating cases involving children, the real problem was that you knew there was something you weren't seeing right in front of your eyes, and it wasn't due to something serious. No, the culprit was, in fact, sitting right behind you, smiling at your best friend while polishing his red apple . You gripped the steering wheel, trying not to make it obvious that her presence was irritating you.
But if you were honest, much more honest; it wasn't just that. You recognized in the young officer the enthusiasm and curiosity you felt when starting your career at the academy. You could even understand her annoying infatuation with Spencer's intelligence or how she couldn't help but gravitate toward him like Peter Pan's little Tinkerbell. What irritated you in a wild and unprofessional way was that Spencer seemed to enjoy it. You had never seen him smile so much in the past few hours since arriving in Maryland, and that made you furious because you couldn't remember making him smile like that ever.
"It's incredible that he graduated so young from college, and the FBI considered him for an elite position," the girl mentioned with an admiring sigh, then turned to you, "Isn't that amazing?"
"Astonishingly breathtaking" you ironically murmured under your breath but unable to deny it.
"Is there anything from fieldwork that has been a real challenge for you?" she asked.
"I can think of a few," you replied quietly, of course, unable to avoid glancing at her sideways through the rearview mirror with an ironic tone.
"I'm sorry; I know I'm sometimes too enthusiastic. But you guys are my heroes; the FBI is the main reason I wanted to join law enforcement in the first place," she replied somewhat embarrassed.
You wanted to scream in frustration because the girl was nice and entirely innocent, and you were unloading your unreasonable anger on her for no reason.
"Don't apologize. It's that spirit that will lead you to save people and do a good job," you allowed yourself to rectify that uncomfortable impasse caused by you. It was the least you could do after sending tranquilizing darts through your eyes since you met her.
You tried to avoid Spencer's concerned gaze until you reached the Gibson's house, but you couldn't simply stop watching them. You knew something about that didn't sit right with you, but you turned your attention back to the officer's interested gestures and Spencer's animated smile to bury the splinter that had been constantly pricking your insides, almost leaving you breathless. You heard her laugh, then her hand squeezed Spencer's arm.
"Agent, you're so funny."
Okaaaaaay. That's it. You're done. Adiós
Without warning, you turned around, showed your badge to the officer guarding Tommy's house, and started taking photos inside without knowing what you were really looking for. Well, you were trying not to think about the officer and her enthusiastic hands on Spencer's biceps.
"What's wrong with you?" Spencer's question made you jump as you took photos of the kitchen where the child and his godmother were presumed to have been when the unknown subject surprised them.
"Nothing; just doing what Hotchner asked me to do," you announced, bringing the camera to your face and taking another photo of the broken chair and plates on the floor, "and your admirer?" you asked with a trembling voice, looking at how the photo turned out and examining the details.
Spencer furrowed his brow, you knew even if you couldn't see it from your angle. But he approached you with his hands in his front pockets.
"She stayed chatting with her colleagues at the entrance. What's bothering you about her?" You frowned and looked at Spencer, almost offended.
"What's bothering me...? Nothing! She's just a bit annoying, but it's okay; I understand her," you quickly replied, walking through the room and looking around with curiosity.
"Yeah, because that's why you'd be blasting Janis Joplin so loud that even a cow would be startled." You sharpened your gaze, looking at him through your lashes.
"I'm surprised you had time to notice anything with all the giggles she was getting out of you." You wanted to hit yourself; cut off your damn tongue or something.
You should have changed the subject; raised the white flag of surrender, but instead, you gave the most perceptive person on the planet material to soon draw the most accurate conclusion; that you were so jealous.
"What are you talking about?" Spencer asked, his face contorting into a confused and almost disgusted expression.
"Forget it," you snapped almost like an order.
"No; you said it. You have to explain it now."
"Spencer..." you murmured, rolling your eyes at his insistence, but you knew he wouldn't give up on this.
"No. I want to know what you mean."
"Nothing!" you grunted. "Just that you're smiling," you pointed, looking him in the eyes, feeling defeated just by saying it. "All morning you've been talking to her, and you've been happy and smiling, and...I've never seen you like this with anyone, and it's...weird," you admitted and finally downplayed it with a wave of your hand, "Forget it," you sighed, "it's not your fault."
"My fault for what?" You looked at him again.
"That a police officer who barely knows you knows better how to make you laugh than I, your best friend, do," you muttered, feeling your emotions reaching their limit and your irrational anger and jealousy starting to sting your eyes with tears. But you wouldn't cry.
Spencer furrowed his brow, his gaze suddenly a bit more relaxed, and the sparkle in his eyes indicated that he was understanding better how you felt. And then came that gesture of pity, and you refused to let him feel that way for you. "Hey..."
"Agents, do you think you've gathered enough evidence? I have officers on an extended shift who will collapse from hunger any minute now. They haven't eaten anything for hours, except for that gluten-free hummus and cookies the Gibsons offered them when they arrived," one of the officers entered the kitchen, interrupting the conversation.Thanks to the Universe.
"That's it, officer," you replied, turning off the camera and starting to walk towards the door with Spencer. Then you stopped, extending your hand and gently tapping Spencer's abdomen, halting his steps too. "Hummus and gluten-free cookies," you looked at Spencer. "Richard Collins, the first victim. Didn't his family consume fruits and vegetables without pesticides from their own greenhouse?"
It took him only a few seconds to analyze what you were saying. "And Bobby's family had a sustainable irrigation system," he recalled the first victim. "Call Penelope, something in this has to be connected."
"The results of the forensic analysis indicate a high production of Interleukin-1," Spencer spoke into the phone as you, he, and his cheerleader were already settled in the car, heading back to the station. "However, these kids had never experienced high fevers in their lives"
Their families were all anti-vaxxers. Despite leading healthy lives, and their parents being very responsible with their children's health, they hadn't taken them to their measles vaccination appointment.
"If they didn't have the vaccine, do you think the unknown wanted to simulate a measles outbreak?" Penelope asked on the other end of the call.
"It's possible; then he doesn't have access to the virus but to the medical records," Prentiss responded.
"An anti-anti-vaxxer?"
"Exactly. We could be talking about a paramedic or even an administrative worker with access to records but not to the laboratories," Derek spoke thoughtfully.
"How do you induce fever without making a child sick?" Tinker bell asked from the back seat.
"There were high levels of Cefuroxime, an antibiotic used for bronchitis or even gonorrhea. That explains the fever, but not the death," Spencer intervened.
"He needed a trigger," you murmured, trying to remember everything you've learned, but the information tangled in your mind. "There were also traces of the same measles vaccine in the children's blood sample, right? Sometimes it's contraindicated if the patient has any dermatological problems, fever, or seizures," you recalled.
"If the unsub caused the child's fever to simulate a measles attack and then applied the vaccine, it's likely that it caused the death," they heard J.J's voice "He didn't hydrated them, he didn't feed them. He just left them tobdie alone and in pain"
"It doesn't take much for such a young child to die from fever. Seizures after a vaccine are caused by fever, especially if it's not controlled. He made them boil until their bodies couldn't take it anymore," you muttered, annoyed, trying to control your urge to press the accelerator to the maximum.
"It has to be someone who can easily access medications and has some minimal experience in medicine. It doesn't take much knowledge. We're looking for someone who has an extreme opinion about anti-vaxxers. Someone who has expressed excessive anger on social media. Surely, he's proud of the murders and shares news about the topic online," Derek told Penelope over the phone.
"I'm narrowing down the search, but look; Do you know how many people cancel anti-vaxxers on social media daily? Many of them are healthcare workers."
"We're talking about a narcissistic vigilant," Rossi added. "He's between 40 and 50 years old, probably lost a child of that age relatively recently. Maybe he was very responsible with vaccinations and feels it's unfair that the children of people who consciously decide not to vaccinate them are still alive."
"That's terrible, but..." they heard Penelope typing furiously until she found the only name that blinked on the screen. "...we have Martin August. A Caucasian man, 45 years old. He works for a supply company. Coincidentally, he delivers medications to the three hospitals in the area where Bobby, Richard, and Tommy are treated."
"What about the family background?" Hotchner asked.
"You got it right. He lost his two-year-old son, Charlie, three years ago, and he was very strict. He never missed any medical appointments. I'd say the child practically lived in the hospital."
"But if he died three years ago... What triggered him?" J.J asked.
"Good question." She decided to check the civil records and found a divorce certificate. "Martin divorced his wife when his son was just one year old. The thing is, she remarried and recently had a baby."
"He must feel that she forgot about Charlie and is rebuilding her life," they heard Prentiss say.
You and Spencer looked at each other alarmed. "He's going after his ex-wife's son," you said with certainty, knowing that if the man killed Tommy, he wouldn't wait at all to go after his next victim, and you suspected that with her, he wouldn't hesitate to cause even more harm.
After an hour and a bit more, you and the team found Tommy. He was in a very dangerous condition; undoubtedly, Martin had taken it out on him, probably rehearsing everything he would do with his ex-wife's little baby. However, the doctors were positive about it, and you decided not to leave the hospital until you knew the child would be stable. J.J had stayed there, and you had promised to accompany her; you knew how tough child cases were for her. Both drove back to Washington, and you made sure Will was informed of the situation and would accompany her that night with his famoustea and a good conversation. From there, you continued alone to your apartment; Penelope had helped you find it, and it was a couple of blocks from hers. You started walking towards the reception of the building when you found Spencer sitting on one of the lobby's chairs.
You looked at him somewhat surprised; the tension of the case had dissipated all the previous events; it had been effective in making you forget that you had ever been jealous and that you had had that conversation where you practically admitted hownyou were feeling.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" you asked, leaning on one of your feet, tilting your head. "What are you doing here?"
He got up from his seat and approached you with a strange look; there was doubt on his face but determination in his gaze.
"Do you remember that strawberry punch you make?"
You raised your eyebrows. "Spencer Walter Reid wants to drink alcohol?"
"With you," he added with a half-smile. "I want to drink alcohol with you."
You stared at him; the circles under his eyes were more marked than usual. You knew he was tired; you couldn't just send him home and deny him a peace punch. You nodded your head and pointed to the elevator, greeting the building manager just before the doors closed.
Spencer stood still beside you; you could feel his warmth colliding with your body. It was crazy and sent confusing signals through your spine.
"When Officer Williams praised me, it made me feel good," he murmured. "Not everyone has the patience to hear everything I have to say all the time," he added, watching the numbers indicating the levels of the building move up on the screen.
"I listen to you always, J.J listens to you always, Prentiss does, so Penelope and Rossi. Derek and Hotchner sort of listen to you all the time," you reminded him.
He nodded, stretching his lips into a thin line, still not making eye contact with you.
"I know."
"Not like that, though," you added. "We don't flirt with you."
You saw his cheeks blush, and then you knew you had hit the mark.
"I think we all have an ego to feed, right?" he murmured. "You were right, but you're also wrong," he finally looked you in the eyes, this time not breaking eye contact for a second. "Yes, I smiled with the things she said, they made me happy. But you... I don't need you to do or say anything; I am happy because of you. I don't smile with you; I do it because of you."
Of course, hearing him say that sent a warm signal through your body; it was as if suddenly you were wrapped in a satin blanket, and your feet didn't hurt, and thatpast case didn't happen. You never went to Maryland and now you are floating. And despite how good it felt, you knew you shouldn't get used to it.
"Spencer, you don't have to..."
"No. I know I don't say it often because saying it out of nowhere and without context would sound strange, but it's the truth; I don't need words, or places, or anything to be happy when I'm with you. I could be vegetating by your side, and I would be the happiest man alive" he admitted this time, looking at you with such intensity, and his words being so real that they touched the most sensitive and hidden nerve in your depth.
Your eyes stung, but you knew you wouldn't cry. Instead, bravely, you stretched your hand towards Spencer, and he took yours with confidence.
"I don't need anything else either, Spence."
And like a stroke of magic, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened. The moment had started and ended in the same location, but just like the elevator had done, you knew that conversation had left you in a different place, yet you didn't feel strange. In fact, you couldn't wait to explore it.
Part 5 and 6
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strawbeerossi · 6 months
Text
Mine
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever the police chief gets a little too friendly with you, you find yourself having a very strict conversation with Spencer at the hotel.
Content/Warnings: Jealous!Spencer, unprotected sex, squirting
Word Count: 1.6K
Kinktober Day Twenty Eight: Squirting
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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Spencer felt his eye twitching as he noticed the newest chief of police was all over you. There was a child abduction case in Nashville, Tennessee that the BAU had offered their resources to. It was standard, children going missing and parents getting weird texts the longer their children were kept captive. You were spending a lot of time at the precinct with him due to you being the designated member alongside JJ to interview the families and surviving child victims who were let go.
“So agent. I got a few questions on your profiling abilities.” The man stated as he was leaning against the desk he was closest to, your gaze lifting from the case file the team had been building up over the past few days. “Okay, lay them on me.” You were just being friendly, not being the best at sensing when men were hitting on you or outright flirting. It was both a blessing and a curse. “Is it true that kids in abusive homes are guaranteed to be murderers?”
The question was quick but you were faster to answer. “No! Not in all cases. Stressors and triggers from childhood can play a big part in the psychological damage of a serial killer but there are people who came from relatively good homes who have murdered others in cold blood. There’s no exact genetic makeup or reason yet, but one day I’m sure it’ll all be answered in depth.”
The rest of the day went like that. He’d ask a question and you’d happily answer, although he was essentially eyefucking you while you were too enthralled in an explanation to pay close enough attention. Hotch had eventually instructed the team to go to their hotel for the night, the team needed rest after being awake for nearly twenty four hours without so much as a break.
The SUV ride back was dead silent, mostly because of exhaustion setting in. However, you could sense tension in your boyfriend as you rested your head lightly against his shoulder.
He’d been abnormally quiet at the precinct, barely even looking in your direction when you came near him. You figured it was exhaustion. Not only were you up for long hours but cases involving children were some of the most draining things you’d ever have to go through. After arriving at the hotel and everyone disbanding to get to their rooms, you were unlocking the door and getting your shoes off while Spencer quietly walked deeper into the room.
“Did you want to take a shower first, babe?” You asked, offering a smile.
It faltered though whenever your boyfriend was facing you, fury in his eyes. “Are we not gonna talk about how chief Lorn is shamelessly flirting with you? It’s like you're eating it up! I mean come on, babe. Why would you ever assume he would care about profiling related things?” His tone was steady, yet anger bubbling over the surface. You looked confused, an eyebrow raised. “Flirting? Spencer, he’s asking questions. I think you’re just tired and taking your emotions out on me.”
Very good guess and probably true, however Spencer wouldn’t admit that. “No. I’m not taking out my emotions on you for no reason. You think I don’t see you batting your eyelashes or laughing at anything this guy says? You don’t know how angry it makes me to know how blind you are to these signals.” Blunt. The words had your mouth agape in shock. “I’m not flirting with the damn police chief! Jesus, Spencer.”
“I don’t believe you. You look like you are eating up all the attention. You know, I bet he wouldn’t even treat you the way I do. Do you think he’d spend every waking moment dedicating his life to you? Huh? Do you think he could love you like I do?” His footsteps were quick and his path decided to back you up against the wall. “Cause I know for sure that he can’t make you cum like I do.” His honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, his hands immediately moving to grip your hips tight. “Spencer!” You squeaked, your pussy clenching desperately around nothing as you could feel the heat of arousal coursing through your veins. Spencer hardly ever got jealous like this, however you liked this side of him. He was rough and could be a little mean, which really did get the job done. “Tell me I’m lying.” His eyes narrowed, hand under your chin making you stare up at him.
“I-I wasn’t flirting with anyone! I was just being friendly.” Your voice was barely above a whisper while Spencer sighed and dropped his hand from your chin. “Go get on the bed.” He murmured, already working on getting his tie off. You knew what you were in for. Spencer didn’t act like this much but you knew that special incidents would pull this rather uncharacteristic side out of him. You’d done what you were used to, already stripping yourself down as you were crawling onto the hotel bed while preparing yourself for whatever was coming.
You knew that he wasn’t going to give you the princess treatment like usual, instead Spencer was getting right to business as he was reaching in his bag to pull out a condom from the side pocket and using his teeth to tear it open. After rolling on the rubber, he was heading over to the edge of the bed to grasp your ankle, tugging your body down the mattress. His gaze was focused on your pussy, a low hum leaving his lips. “Look at how wet you are.” His fingers were teasingly running through your slick folds to collect your sweet arousal, holding a hand up to show off the glistening digits. “Now, I wonder who did that..” He playfully pondered while giving his cock a few lazy tugs.
As he was situated between your legs, Spencer was grasping his shaft and smacking it against your pussy before moving to run his tip through your folds to further tease you, your hand gently reaching for his hip. “Fuck, Spencer. Please.” You whined.
That was all he needed to hear, his large hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he readied himself, his right hand on his cock while the left squeezed your hip. As the thick tip was breaching your soaked cunt, the male was shushing your whines. “We haven’t even gotten started yet. Tonight, I’m gonna show you just how much you don’t need some idiotic police chief and learn how to appreciate what you do have.” Jealousy wasn’t something Spencer was proud of but the emotion was prominently on display and he wasn’t gonna hide it.
His hips were slamming against yours without warning, a loud gasp falling from your lips as your head was falling back against the mattress. “Fuck!” You cursed, feeling the burn of his cock stretching out your desperate and leaking pussy from being shoved deep into your warmth. “You think he’d have you acting like this? Look at how desperate you are and I’ve barely touched you.” His voice was low as both hands roughly gripped your hips. Spencer was normally more of the soft and sweet side, however in these sorts of moods, he was different than anyone who really knew him could imagine.
His thrusts were relentless, your pussy sinfully squelching from each rough snap of his hips, your arousal adding a shine to his cock. “Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a cheap whore?” The vulgarity alone was making your stomach do flips. This was the man who was bashful with saying the word bitch, yet here he was, cursing and calling you a whore. You wouldn’t complain at all, mainly because you couldn’t.
With his onslaught of assaulting your cunt, you were letting out a series of moans, shaky whines, and pleas for him not to stop. Your skin was flushed, nails digging into your partner’s shoulders as you were in pure bliss. “Look at you. You like it when I abuse your cunt, don’t you? Want to be used like the whore you are? Fuck,” He huffed out, lips smashing against yours as he wasted no time practically shoving his tongue in your mouth while slamming his cock into your pussy, slamming into the spot where you needed him most.
The feeling of your walls constricting and spasming around his cock was like a dream. Spencer was sensitive, so he loved feeling your gummy walls and being able to have them gripping at his shaft, your desperate pussy making an attempt to suck in more of his dick even though it just wasn’t possible.
You were seeing stars, a familiar heat brewing in the pit of your stomach. However, you weren’t able to speak, only being reduced to blubbering about being close, even so the words were slurred together and still hard read. Thankfully, Spencer knew exactly what you were trying to convey, a hand coming down between your sweaty bodies as he was quick to press his finger against your clit, the pressure on the bundle of nerves causing you to whine desperately.
However what happened next was something that even snapped Spencer out of his jealous haze.
He was in the midst of roughly fucking into you whenever your legs were shaking violently, your nails dragging down his back as your body arched from the bed while hitting your orgasm. Instead of making a creamy mess of his cock, there was a gush of arousal that painted his thighs, pelvis, your thighs, and the hotel bedsheets below you. Spencer was slowly coming to a stop while staring at you with wide eyes.
“You’ve never done that before!” He squeaked, his eyes casting down at the glistening of your arousal painting his skin. You were fucked out, your eyes glossed over as you opened your mouth to speak, however a moan falling out soon after.
“No, no. We are doing that again!”
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007reid · 6 months
Note
request for reader having dated spencer (early seasons) and then she finds out what happened w lila </3
hi hi hi!! sorry this took a while hun :( you were vague with your req so i just wrote whatever i wanted to write and because of that i meant for this to be a drabble but it didn't work out that way... enjoy!
secrets. spencer reid
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part 1 | part 2
pairing: spencer reid x jealous fem!reader, 1.8k
summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.
warnings: no smut you filthy animals, though i did intend there to be smut im just in a fluffy mood rn :// tiny angst if you squint, spencer's blushin a LOT, morgan's evil, bickering and just cutesy couple stuff. me when.
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spencer’s secret was the last thing that you were, and you know this.
you and spencer have been dating for three months now, not including the two months talking stage because spencer is deadly afraid of commitment, and between all that time, you’d say you’ve gotten to know spencer pretty well. you know him well enough to trust that he knows what’s best, anyway. it’s been three months, and spencer hasn’t uttered a word about you to his team, his family, and you understand why.
really. you do.
“they’ll never let me live in down,” spencer had whined, one person imminent on his mind. derek fucking morgan. spencer dreads just thinking about it, the teasing, the inappropriate jokes, the winks and the whistles. it’s dehumanizing. “when someone ask me or mention something about it, i will tell them. until then…”
the unspoken reason was there. spencer’s a talker, definitely a talker, but he doesn’t spend much time talking about himself. he never reveals a bit of himself unless he’s directly asked it, and he feels uncomfortable sharing otherwise. the team’s too used to spencer being physically and emotionally repellent to the female race to really ask about stuff like you anymore, and spender’s not too eager to share neither. not out of the blue. it’s unlike him. this you understand. 100%. locked safely in the noggin.
you never think much about it anyway. it doesn’t bother you. what bothers you, though, is secrets.
you know spencer has loads of those, tucked behind that carefree and open-hearted smile and attitude of his. you examine him carefully, searching his face for ticks—okay, maybe you were just looking really creepily because he’s pretty and you try to commit every feature into memory but you are, searching for ticks that is.
you know he hides things. somethings not worth bringing up again because it’ll only bring up bad memories. some other things, however, definitely worth mentioning again. you just have to find the right target questions. sometimes it feels like you’re dating a stranger, with how little you know about spencer’s life. sometimes it feels like you’re dating the love of your life. it’s all very relative.
you and spencer are cuddled up on the couch, breaking bad playing on the tv. it’s one of the shows spencer doesn’t like pointing out the scientific inaccuracies of because he’s too fond of the main character to really say that he’s wrong, and sometimes you miss his voice chiming in between all the movie’s dialogues, but you think the reason why he’s quiet today is because he’s not in the mood to talk. the last case’s gotten him pretty shaken up, and he’s still healing, head in your neck every night and when he pulls away your skin is damp with tears.
“you okay spence?” you say, moving your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. he hums softly, and then you both suddenly hear the vibration from under your asses. spencer shifts around, digging his phone out from where it’s lodged in a random cushion of the sofa.
he groans inwardly, showing you the screen, not having to explain. in big letters, the caller says: bau--derek morgan.
“he usually never calls me on weekends,” spencer frowns, watching the phone vibrate. “you think i should answer?”
“he’s a friend,” you say, tucking a stray strand of hair under his ear. “answer him.”
“okay,” spencer says hesitantly, then swipes the green button on his screen. he clears his throat as the call connects. “you’re on speaker,” he warns, looking at you anxiously and then back to his phone again. morgan’s a wildcard, and spencer would have to hide his face everyday for the next three weeks in front of you if morgan happens to drop something embarrassing about him just out of pocket. spencer isn’t ready.
“not like there’s anyone with you to hear,” morgan scoffs, and didn’t let spencer answer before continuing. “the team’s planning on a bar night tomorrow—“
“the team?” spencer questions, suspicious. morgan sighs loudly.
“garcia and i,” he corrects reluctantly, “are planning for a team bonding night tomorrow. what do you say?”
“no.” spencer says immediately, looking at you and hope you get his unspoken answer. spencer never goes out on weekends, not unless it’s with you. with his highly demanding schedule at the bau, it’s rare that he has any time off at all, and it’s hard to maintain a healthy relationship that way. any time he gets to spend time with you he’d take.
“come on,” morgan says, enthusiastically. “when was the last time you properly went out, huh?”
“last month, when you and garcia planned another of these team bonding bar nights,” spencer says monotonously. he rolls his eyes. “morgan—“
“don’t be rolling your eyes at me now, genius,” morgan warns. you stifle a laugh, and spencer sends you a wounded look. you forget that they’re basically family, like siblings to knows each other to a tee. “listen, have some fun in your life. who knows, maybe we can find you another lila at the bar.” morgan’s tone is suggestive. and now, that got your full, undivided attention.
and spencer, predictably, looks like a deer caught in the headlights, looking at you in horror was you narrow your eyes at his screen. you prod at his leg, prompting him to answer so morgan can elaborate.
lila?
“i don’t think—“ spencer starts, but got immediately cut off.
“don’t lie and say you didn’t like it, lover boy,” morgan whistles and spencer cringes. “now that we’re talking about lila, actually—“ spencer’s mind is screaming, shut up shut up shut up! as morgan proceeds to feed you more information, completely oblivious to his sins. “do you guys still keep in touch? she looked pretty into you. never knew you had it in you til then, man--”
by now spencer’s beet red head to ears to toe and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but also off of yourself. you’d say you’re a jealous woman. not too jealous but definitely not not jealous.
“morgan,” spencer starts again, voice a little wobbly and embarrassed and morgan laughs.
“seriously though, do you guys still talk? them eyes never lie,” and morgan sounds so casual, so nonchalant while destroying spencer’s life.
it’s not that spencer doesn’t want you to know about lila. he couldn’t careless if lila waltz into his life right now because he knows they would be nothing more than friends—you’re all he’s ever wanted and he would trade you for nothing. it’s just embarrassing, is all, him being exposed like this, and he feels smaller, feels like he’s actually 5’3 with the glare you’re sending him.
“anyway, that don’t matter,” morgan remains completely ignorant and in his own world and still on speaker. oh morgan. “i want to see you at our bar tomorrow. it’s a yes, right? good. i’ll tell garcia you said yes.”
“morgan!” spencer says quickly. “i have a gir—“
morgan hangs up.
spencer dreads looking at you, so he takes his time getting out the app and then clears all of the background apps on his phone. he doesn’t like seeing you mad and he can basically sense it, the fumes blowing out your ears.
“who’s lila?” you say casually and he looks up. he doesn’t mistake your tone for friendliness, your eyes are narrow and suspicious.
“someone on a case a while ago,” spencer responds honestly. because that’s all there was to lila. it’s not like he’s never had his first kiss before her, so she doesn’t even count as his first kiss (she’s his second) and other than that minute-long moment they shared there was nothing else remarkable. she just happens to the only girl the team knows about who’s spencer been involved with and they are encouraging to help him find another ‘lila.’
it’s all very complicated. and humiliating. he should’ve definitely told you the entire backstory beforehand, because it’s not scandalous or weird or anything. it’s innocent and harmless. but now the problem seems to be blown out of proportion.
“just someone?” you press. spencer hesitates. he hates lying, especially when he’s lying to you. his hesitation gives you all the answer you needed.
“we kissed once,” he says, and gawks at you for approval, for forgiveness. “but that was it. i swear.”
something awful bubbles in your stomach. you know spencer’s not lying, and it’s not worth getting upset with him about because it’s all in the past—it’s not like you go talking about your precious conquests to spencer anyway. but you can’t help the envy and jealousy boiling so hotly it makes you dizzy.
spencer feels obliged to fill you in, to patch up the little bump and to get back the sweet atmosphere that was before morgan called. he knew morgan would somehow manage to ruin his life in some kind of way. he knew it before he even accepted his call.
“she was an actress in this case we were working on and she just, i think, really liked me or something and she was in a pool when i came to see her just to ask some questions and she just pulled me—“
his rant got interrupted by you seizing him to a rough kiss, hands coming up to rest behind the nape of his neck and nails unconsciously digging into his skin. spencer remains mostly unresponsive and soft, surprised and don't know how to respond. you keep prying, teeth digging into the soft of his bottom lip and spencer starts nipping at you back, gentle like he always is.
it frustrates you, how hard it is to be frustrated at spencer. you pull away from him and spencer tilts his head curiously, lip shiny and eyes looking at you like he's never seen you before and he just looks so sweet, so innocent and eager, like a precious pup. you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest, annoyance and jealousy and anger evaporating from you like a cloud.
spencer licks his lips and you collapse back into him again, returning to the position you were before morgan so unmindfully interrupted your weekend. breaking bad continues to play on the tv. long limbs wraps around you and spencer presses a kiss in your hair.
"i'm not going tomorrow," he declares.
"you should," you say nonchalantly. you cuddle up closer to him, turning around until the both of your are facing each other, wiggling your way on top. you begin to trace stars on the exposed skin of his shoulder. "and maybe you should bring someone with you. just to act as a guard for future lila's. maybe you can introduce that person too," you flick your hair behind your back and shrugs at spencer's amused smile. "it's just a thought."
"okay," he says quietly, eyes so soft. "okay. who do you suggest i bring?"
"that's for you to figure out, doctor reid," you say flippantly, turning back to the tv. "now shush."
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miley1442111 · 8 days
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jealous?- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
summary: aaron couldn't be jealous, right?
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: jealousy, heavy kissing, aaron is mean to spencer, not really cheating but kinda
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Aaron truly didn’t mind keeping your relationship a secret.
He thought it was a good idea considering you two were only a few months in. As much as Aaron loved you, and you loved him, hiding it was a necessity. 
Right now? Aaron wanted to walk right up to you and kiss you so hard that the officer speaking to you finally got the message. The officer, John Davis had his hands on you, he kept talking to you, asking you dumb questions. Aaron could tell you were getting irritated, if he did what we wanted, he would be sure you wouldn’t mind. Though, workplace conduct also held him back. He was the unit chief after all. 
But what happened next shocked him. Shy little Spencer Reid walked up to you, wrapped and arm around your waist, and kissed you. 
What?
You were taken by surprise, but the officer just walked away feeling dejected. Spencer pulled back with an apologetic smile and cleared his throat, his face beet red.
“He wouldn’t leave you alone,” he shrugged, explaining his motivation behind kissing you. You just nodded, shocked that your best friend just kissed you.
“Spencer!” Aaron’s voice rang out through the room. Spencer’s head turned, a sickly feeling settling in his stomach. “Outside, now,” Aaron demanded. You sent Aaron a stern glance, silently asking him to not go too hard on Spencer. He didn’t return it. 
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“What were you thinking?” Aaron demanded.
“Hotch, he wouldn’t leave her alone- I- what was I supposed to do?” Spencer attempted to add reasoning onto the sudden display, though a part of him deep down knew that he liked you as more than just a friend. 
“Get. Me,” Aaron deadpanned. “If you have an issue with the officers or anyone on a case you need to get me or Jj, she’s our liaison, I’m the Unit Chief,” he growled. “I thought you’d remember that, Spencer.”
“Hotch please, you know that guy wouldn’t have went away-” 
“Do I really have to babysit you?” Aaron was just being mean now. You were walking outside to them both anyways, Penelope had another break in the case. 
“Aaron,” you sighed, standing beside Spencer. “Stop being mean.”
Aaron’s body language changed immediately. He shut up. 
“Penelope has something, you head in Spencer, yeah?” You smiled at Spencer and he nodded and went inside. “What the fuck are you playing at Aaron?”
Aaron sighed, then grabbed your waist and pulled you in to kiss him. This wasn’t like any kiss before. It was heavy, passionate and all-consuming. You smiled into it.
“No one,” a kiss to your lips. “Should,” another kiss. “Kiss,” another kiss. “My,” another kiss. “Girlfriend,” he finished it off with a longer kiss, allowing his hands to travel and squeeze your ass, knowing it usually makes you open your mouth in surprise. Your gasp was swallowed by his lips as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, every attempt you made at pulling away was stopped by his large hands. 
“Baby-” breathed in between kisses as his lips latched onto your neck. “The team, they’ll see us-” 
“Fuck the team,” he said breathlessly. It clicked. 
“You’re jealous,” you stated, a small smirk on your face, Aaron rolled his eyes.
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,” he tried to capture your lips again but you stopped him.
“You have nothing to be jealous of. Spencer is my friend, that's it,” You smiled, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. 
“Honey-”
“Let’s go back inside, yeah?” You smiled and he grabbed your hand, reluctantly following behind you. You dropped his hand as you walked into the conference room with the rest of the team, but Aaron felt better. 
You were his. He was yours. 
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criminal minds masterlist :)
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uranometrias · 23 days
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✮ꜜ : ❛ guilt's a motherfucker : spencer reid x fem! reader
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pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader
summary: denial was an art, especially in a field like the one that you worked in. as a profiler, it was almost impossible for anyone to pull the wool over your eyes. you'd spent enough time with your team to know that this gift, this specific sort of perception was not something you were immune to either. meaning, no matter how much you tried to keep things a secret, someone on your team was bound to read right through you. especially spencer. 🔱 ━━ alternatively: the one where your inability to say what you want leads spencer to accept the affections of someone else.
content warnings: i think this could be considered angst . spencer reid having a crush on reader. reader being jealous of spencer getting attention from someone else. cute friendship between derek+ emily + reader. reader is the youngest on the team. set in s6, pre- jj’s departure.
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“You doing alright, babygirl?” Derek’s voice isn’t hard to miss, and the obvious smugness that was attached made your eyes roll. You knew from the moment that you’d leaned forward in your chair, lips pulling down into a deep pout that someone would clock you and quite quickly put two and two together. You didn’t mean to be obvious, in fact, usually you did a much better job at keeping your cool. However, there was something glaringly different today.
Spencer had gone for a new look, you remembered the day he walked in with his hair freshly cropped, shoulder-length tresses replaced with what Hotch had affectionately referred to as "boy band" hair. The rest of the team had laughed, you'd even cutely hid your own snicker behind your hand, but you couldn't deny that it fit him. It was flattering, dare you say cute as hell. In the weeks that followed though, he'd went even shorter, gone were all traces of boy band.
The look he sported now was distracting, incredibly so. He looked good, and it seemed you weren't the only that seemed to notice.
"She's eating him with her eyes." you grumble, arms crossing as Derek comes up behind you. He's got his chin pressed to your shoulder, following your line of sight, as a boisterous laugh escapes him. "It's not funny, Derek." this hiss of yours only seems to fuel his amusement as he starts to chuckle even louder.
"You've been mean mugging that girl since she walked in this morning." Derek rounds your desk now, obstructing your view of the betrayal taking place across the bullpen. It was a slow day, a good day. No cases, but loads of paperwork. Your desk was covered in nothing but files, some you'd started, some you'd finished. You're still cross, but you allow yourself to look up at your long time friend.
"I'm not mean mugging." you huff, blinking slow as you think over your clear fib. "There's just something in my eye." you whisper, and it's not convincing. You can tell by the way Derek's bag chuckling.
"Yeah, a green monster." he retorts quickly, and you can't deny the way it catches you off guard, as a choked laugh at your own expense escapes you. "Jealousy's not a good look on you, little bit." he hums and you droop, because of course you know that. "Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling?" he asks, and despite all his jokes and quips, Derek Morgan was perceptive, and he cared about you.
"That's a horrible idea." you exclaim, and your entire body jerks back, recoiling as if you'd been stung. "God, aren't you supposed to be some kind of smooth criminal?" your eyebrows quirk upward, "What type of advice is that?" you proceed, and Derek's bemused, looking down at you as he waits for you to finish your spiel.
"Just tell him straight up how you feel?" you deepen your voice to mock his, "Why don't I just run around the bullpen in underwear too, since we're doing dumb things." you huff, and your dramatics are amusing. They always have been. You'd been a member of the team going on two years, and you'd made a mark so deep it almost felt like you'd always been a part of the Unit.
You were a stark contrast to Emily and JJ, and a complete 180 from the angsty bombshell that had been Elle Greenaway. You were a wide-eyed 20-something year old that still had so much light behind your eyes, and a hope that you wouldn't shake. You had a way of making everyone laugh. You could pull anyone out of their heads, even Hotch, who Derek had caught many times fighting back small content smizes as you took the team's mind off the gore of the job.
"That's one way to get attention." he hums, and you huff again.
"Derek, you're not being helpful. If you're just here to laugh at my misery, I'm gonna start rethinking your place in my life." you hum, and you lean forward, chin resting against your palms. Derek appraises you, head tipping to the side as he offers you a charming grin.
"All I'm saying is, you've been crushing on the kid since you got here." he reminds you, and your frown deepens. "And the world wont be blind forever." he mumbles, and you know what he means. Spencer Reid to you had always been the most beautiful guy, but he'd been buried under mountains of trauma and insecurities that he had never been able to accept that. With time though, Spencer had begun to blossom, and this new haircut seemed to be a testament of this.
He was coming into himself, there was a new confidence budding in his steps, less stammers between phrases, and you didn't really have to fight for eye contact much anymore. He was still Spence, and in his words, he was far from an Alpha Male, but he could be. And he would be, you just knew it. Which meant that the more confident he became, the more women would see him the way you saw him. Damn. Derek sees the way the cogs in your mind move, and he sighs.
"Take it from someone who's been around-." you can't help but to insert with your own little quip. "What are you calling yourself a dog?" you tease, and his eyes roll, but he still grins wide.
"Listen." he stretches the word a bit, and he's looking you right in the eye. You can see sympathy swirling through the pretty pools of brown, and you believe that maybe if you were a bit older, and had met Derek first, you'd be swooning for him the way you were swooning for Spencer. You shake these thoughts of his beauty away, as you give him the space to speak freely. "I know what it's like to miss a window." he reminds you. "Rejection's a bitch." he adds.
True. It was precisely why you'd never bothered to say anything to Spencer. You got through life by pretending things were fine, by making a joke out of the hard stuff. You wouldn't be able to handle opening your heart to someone, and being told 'No'. That you weren't good enough, that you weren't what they needed. Maybe that was selfish, rejection was a part of life. It was necessary, but still. You'd rather deal with your unresolved issues alone. You saw no need to bring Spencer into conversations about your feelings for him at all.
"But guilt's a motherfucker." and Derek's words stop you short. You blink. What was worse? The sting that rejection could cause or the gaping hole that guilt would bring? The thought of getting an invite to a wedding day for a future Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Reid while you sitll held romantic feelings close to your chest made you want to vomit. Perhaps Derek had a point. At least if Spence turned you down with time the two of you could work around it, become friends again.
If you never said anything though, you'd have no right to be angry or hurt or jealous if some woman with much more confidence than you managed to swoop in and knock him off his feet Damn, you hated when Derek was right. His chuckle is what alerts you that your begrudging inner thoughts had been uttered aloud.
"What's Derek right about?" you smell the familiar scent of Prentiss' perfume before you see her face. It's subtle but comforting, and it makes you unconsciously relax in your seat. Derek's moving out of your line of sight, and you're met with the sight of Spencer still talking to the woman. She had a firm grip on a mug of coffee in one hand, her other hand leisurely tracing circles on Spencer's arms. You inhale sharply, swiveling in your seat as you turn to face Emily.
"Everything." Derek takes the swing, winking as you and Emily share a dry glance. He then subtly nods his head towards the woman crowding Spencer at the kitchenette and Emily's lips form a thin line of understanding. She turns to you, hand resting on your shoulder as she gives it a firm squeeze.
"Don't you think it's time to take a swing?" she offers, and you hate that immediately she falls into step with Derek. The duo forming a united front against you to ensure you put your big girl pants on and tell him the way you're feeling. "Here's an idea," And Emily's looking for a second to make sure Spencer is still too preoccupied to make his way over. "You've been trying to find someone to go with you to that new movie... what was it?" Emily snaps her fingers.
"Crash of the-" you cut her off with a deep sigh.
"Clash... it's Called Clash of the Titans." you mutter, and you pout. You had been trying to convince Emily, JJ, and Penelope to give the action film a shot. What could be better than watching Sam Worthington run across your scream for nearly two hours as you're transported to Ancient Greece? But, alas... the girls were far more interested in other things. In truth, they'd all agreed that they'd prefer to see something a little less packed with gore and violence.
Just for a change of pace.
You couldn't slight them for their polite rejection of your plans. The last case you'd been on had been especially taxing and nightmare inducing. "Why don't you ask him instead?" she hums, and you look over at the chatting duo, they'd really been talking for a while. There's this easygoing sort of look on Spencer's face, and the beauty across from him has turned about the same shade of red as the lipstick smeared across her full pout.
"Looks like she beat me to it." you mutter, and you think maybe God hates you, because as you let the words out, the girl is beaming even brighter, slipping something she'd written on a napkin into the palm of his hand. She offers a flirty wink before she's sashaying off, hips moving from side to side as she makes her way back to her own little cubby. "Ah well, who cares?" you try your hand at playing nonchalant. "It's not like I was in love with him or anything."
And the thing about Denial was that you'd spent so long making it your security blanket that you often forgot you were working with some of the most brilliant minds the FBI had ever produced.
Derek pats your shoulder, he's sympathetic to your plight. He was probably the only person you had been the most forthcoming with about these feelings you harbored. Emily frowns, and she offers you a side hug, chin resting on the top of your head. Their comfort makes you feel better, but the coil of feelings in your gut only seems to tighten. You wanted to be alone, you'd been perceived enough, if any of them pushed any further you may have broken into tears.
"I-I should get back to work." you mutter quietly, and they both know what you're doing. For once they resist the urge to comment, and they leave you be. Your desk was farthest away from the rest of the team. You and Hotch had agreed it was necessity. You could focus more when your back was to the rest of them. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers drumming against the table as you swallowed your emotions. You tiredly reach for an unfinished file, flipping it open.
Blurry words peer back at you, and you're shocked to realize that despite all your efforts you were still about to cry. Fuck.
You close your eyes, counting up to thirty in both english and spanish, by the time you'd finished breathing treinta under your breath, you had a new guest in front of you. Spencer stretched up for what felt like miles, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood before your desk with a look of confusion on his face. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks, and his voice always has this tenderness throughout.
"J-Just fine." and your stammer gives you away. Your voice is coated with mucus, a surefire signal that you were about a few seconds shy of having an immature meltdown. How silly of you to be this shaken up over the prospect of Spencer being with someone else. How dare you? You didn't even have the balls to admit that your playful flirting was just you overcompensating for the fact you couldn't do it foreal.
"I read somewhere that breathing exercises help you get through boring things." you motion to the file, and you've perfected your fake grin. Spencer doesn't look convinced, but he plays along.
"Oh, yeah? Where'd you read that?" he asks and you blanche.
"Uh. Just somewhere." you answer, and he's raised both his eyebrows. You recover quickly, clearing your throat. "You've replaced me, huh?" you ask, and you're playing it off like one of your jokes. Spencer looks shocked for a second, before he tips his head to the side as he looks down at you as if you were the most important thing in his world. If only.
"What do you mean?" he pries, and you motion with your head to the coffee station.
"Found another pretty girl to boost your head up, huh?" you mutter, and there's this flash. Something you can't quite catch, mostly because you're not in the mood to profile and analyze what all his facial expressions meant now. "You guys looked like you were having a good time." you add, and you hope you don't sound bitter. Jealousy or not, if Spencer was happy, you'd be happy too. You'd try.
"Yeah." he replies, and his face is turning red. "S-She was just being nice." he answers, and you hate that the first thing you notice is how he hasn't said 'No, I haven't replaced you.' You sour all the more.
"That's nice, Spence." you hum, and it's clear you've now become uninterested. So much for trying.
Still, Spencer was nothing if not selectively oblivious. You guys had been playing this game for almost a year, he wasn't going to make it easy for you to cop out and make him the bad guy. "She actually asked me to go see-" the rest of his joy-ridden words are mush in your head, and you can imagine how unamused you looked as you half-listened to him go on about how they were going out Saturday.
Yippee.
You don't mean to be rude, not really. But you couldn't bring yourself to listen to anymore. "Congratulations, Spencer." you cut him off abruptly. "But I've got to finish this, so if you could just-" and you're ushering him off as he stares at you aghast.
"What's your problem?" he pries, and you blink owlishly.
"Nothing." you insist, and you look over your shoulder. The team was not-so-subtly watching the exchange. Typical.
"I find that hard to believe." Spencer retorts, and he's got this unimpressed look on his face, like he knows something you don't. His genius has never irked you before, but right now it just makes you feel more perceived. Like he knew how you felt and was rubbing this all in your face. He couldn't possibly be that cruel though, right?
"Well that's not really my problem is it?" you snap, and Spencer's reaction is instantaneous. His scoff rings in your ears.
"Yeah, actually it is." he shoots back, and you rear back in surprise. What was that supposed to mean. "You know this is getting really old." and your strangled gasp escapes you before you can stop it.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you narrow your eyes as you set your glare on him. He's got his own challenging sort of glance on his face, almost like he's daring you to keep playing dumb. You will. If only to push him to spit out whatever was so clearly sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Go on. Please tell me, Mr. All knowing." you press and his eyes roll. You look like a perturbed toddler ready to fling yourself on the ground and scream.
"Grow up." is all he says, and it slices you clean in half. "If you're gonna play the role of the jealous little girl, at least respect me enough to not play dumb about it when you're caught." and then he's leaving you sitting at your desk, and you're gawking.
Fuck.
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Sneaking Around
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You and Spencer are keeping a relationship a secret from your brother, Derek
Square Filled: "don't you touch her." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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You don’t ever want to leave this bed. It feels too damn good to want to start your day. Spencer has been up for a while just watching you sleep. He likes to see your eyes flit back and forth underneath your eyelids as he wonders what you might be dreaming about. Where do you go when you fall asleep? Based on the smile on your face, your dream is about him.
“Darling. Wake up,” Spencer whispers and nudges his nose with yours.
You scrunch up your nose in the way he loves, the way that makes you look like a squirrel, and you open your eyes slightly. He waits until he sees your bright eyes before kissing the tip of your nose. There you go again with the cute nose scrunch.
“Why did you wake me? I was having a great dream,” you sigh happily.
“Was it about me?”
“When is it never about you?”
“Tell me what it was about.”
You yawn and move away to get a better look at him.
“Well, I was on this boat and it wasn’t a cruise ship-type boat but like a sailboat. You know, the one Rossi lets us use sometimes. We were in the middle of nowhere but we didn’t feel lost or felt scared. We felt content. I decided to go swimming so I jumped into the water, but then I grew a mermaid tail and you were so jealous because I swam faster than you. You jumped into the water to see if you could grow a tail but couldn’t. So, I decided to take you to my underwater world where we had fish children and ate kelp all the time.”
“Sounds adventurous,” Spencer laughs.
“It was weird,” you giggle.
“So, while you were snoring,” you push Spencer away playfully, “I was thinking maybe we can go up to your parents’ cabin this weekend.”
“That sounds ama—wait,” you sigh, “we can’t. Derek is having his friends over. He’s taking the weekend to do whatever it is they plan on doing. The last thing I need is to be caught by him.”
It’s not that Derek doesn’t approve of your relationship with Spencer, it’s just he’s so protective over you. You have nothing to do with the police or the FBI, and he doesn’t want you getting mixed up in that life. It’s bad enough he’s in it, he doesn’t want to add another person you could possibly lose. He’s only looking out for you, and you understand that, but you fell in love with Spencer the second he introduced you two.
You two have been seeing each other behind his back, and it’s been working out so far.
“Maybe we can rent a hotel room, then. I really want to go away with you for the weekend.”
“I’d like that,” you grin.
You lean over and kiss him, but the kiss is anything but short and sweet. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your head spin. The kind of kiss that makes you want to do very bad things with him. The kind of kiss that makes you fall in love with him all over again. The kiss gets heated very quickly and he pulls you onto his lap so you can feel how hard you’re making him.
Suddenly, the front door slams open and your brother can be heard laughing downstairs.
“Reid! You here?”
“Shit,” you gasp.
You scramble off Spencer and fall off the bed toward the window. Spencer laughs at your panic just as you crawl underneath his bed. Seconds later, Derek opens Spencer’s bedroom door, and you cover your mouth to keep quiet. Spencer doesn’t mind that Derek barges in whenever he wants. With him are Matt and Luke, and the latter smirks at the flushed look on Spencer’s face.
“Why is Y/N’s car here?”
“She dropped it off here,” Spencer thinks quickly. “She took an Uber to hang out with the girls. She didn’t want to drive, and it was cheaper to get one from here than her house.”
Luke looks around the room and sees your toes underneath the bed. He smirks but doesn’t comment on it.
“When she gets back, she can sleep in the guest room.”
“No problem,” Spencer shrugs.
“Don’t you touch her,” Derek points at him.
“I won’t. Why did you come here? Not that I don’t love your company.”
Spencer doesn’t want to get up because then they’ll see the boner he has.
“We’re going to a baseball game. Want to come?”
“No, thank you. I have a bunch of books to get through.”
“I can wait ten minutes,” Derek laughs.
“Maybe next time.”
“Alright. Let me know when she gets home safe.”
“Sure thing.”
The three men leave the room and Spencer busts out laughing at the situation.
“Shut up,” you glare and hit the underside of his bed. You crawl out from underneath it when you know it’s safe to do so. You kneel on the bed and kiss him lovingly. “Derek may be my brother, but he’s not the boss of me. I love you with all my heart, but I better go before he sees me.”
“We gotta tell him soon.”
“I know but sneaking around with you is so much fun,” you wink.
Instead of leaving through the bedroom door like a normal person, you sneak out of the window where there is a tree that slopes down, giving you the perfect escape route. Spencer watches you go with a chuckle, glad that someone like you is in his life.
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