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#spencer reid x original female character
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Criminal Minds Recommendations
Main master list
* = Smut
Spencer Reid
Who Needs Time Management When I Have You?
The Waters Fine
Birthday Girl*
Obsessed
Okay?*
Crashing
Need You*
Library
Cuddles
The Final Draft*
Oblivious
Making A Move
Slow Hands*
Slip Up
You Again*
Sweater
Distraction*
Music Moods
And They Were Roommates
Home For Christmas*
Only Hands*
Sweet Talk
After Hours*
I Love You More*
Faint
Car Clean Up*
Happy Valentines Day, My Love
Teach Me?*
Not So Happy Hotch*
Boudoir
Fixation*
Hits Different Cause It’s You
His Picture In A Golden Locket
Lit By Love*
Hard On Top*
Here’s The Way I Feel
Friction*
Married
Cold Coffee*
Heatwave*
Coffee At Midnight
Stress Relief*
Page Turner*
Apple Slices
No Fun*
Christmas Feelings* (Part 2)
Attention
You Think I’m Delicious?
Hands On Learner*
Rough
If You Love Her
No It’s Not*
Cracked
Study Break*
Just 10 Minutes
Warmth*
Safe
Just Friends*
Good Little Helper*
Rumoured Nights*
In The Pouring Rain*
Everyone Looks Better In A Sun Dress* (Pt. 2*)
Nude Beach*
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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year
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How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst
Feb. Requests-4
In which Spencer and Y/N are dating and it’s great but the only problem is… she’s Rossi’s daughter
Warnings: semi-smutty scenes, dirty talkin… fluff, lying, horny!Spencer, spence being reckless and reader being scared 💀
Spencer Reid x fem!rossi!reader
All parts of this are up on my pinned masterlist!
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“Ohmygod, Spencer!” Y/N giggled as she inspected his face. She sat on his lap, touching his skin where she had noticed a bruise.
“I know…” He groaned.
Y/N eyes flickered up to his. “And you didn’t think to tell me that the guy beat your ass before you knocked him out?” She said, talking about the unsub from the last case Spencer was on.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Okay baby, first of all, he did not beat my ass. He punched me once before I hit him with a crowbar. And second, can we stop talking about creepy psychopaths so I can fuck you?” He asked watching her face turn red.
Y/N kissed his lips and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His hands found her hips naturally and he kissed her back, rubbing his thumbs over the hip bones. Now, this process would have moved a lot slower had she still had pants on but the moment Spencer got to her apartment he took them off of her. Now she was just left in a pair of her underwear and a loose t-shirt.
She moaned as one hand slid from her hip and between her legs, rubbing softly. She pulled away from his lips and hid her face in his shoulder, breathing heavily.
His lips found her neck as he kept rubbing, chuckling at how wet she was and he had just started touching her. “You miss me while I was gone, baby?” He asked into her skin.
She nodded, a whine leaving her lips. “I missed you and those hands of yours.”
Spencer smirked and helped her sit back up so he could look at her face. “What about my di-“
His words were cut off by the sound of one of their phones ringing. He groaned and held onto her ass, not wanting to stop trying to make her feel good. Y/N kissed his lips and crawled off of him, smiling at the fact that his hand stayed on her ass as long as it could before she was out of reach.
She looked on her bedside table and groaned when she realized that her father was calling her. “It’s mine.”
Y/N cleared her throat and picked it up. “Hey, dad!” She smiled, glancing back at Spencer who pressed his lips together and widened his eyes.
“Good morning, Y/N/N my beautiful.” He spoke. He sounded extra cheery this morning.
Spencer climbed up next to her and placed his hand on her thigh. She glared at him with her eyes but smiled with her lips. “What’s up, dad?”
Somehow, Spencer ended up laying between her legs pressing soft kisses on the insides of her thighs. Y/N dropped her mouth open wanting to moan so badly.
“I’m having a dinner on Saturday night and I want you to be there.” Rossi said. “Uncle Hotch wants to see you. So does the rest of the team.”
Spencer looked up at her, smirking and nodding as he continued to tease her. She grabbed his hair and pulled it harshly trying to get him to stop with a smile on her face.
He did not stop. In fact, his lips turned into his tongue, licking and biting the insides of her thighs. His hands grabbed the outsides, squeezing roughly.
“Y-yeah! I would love to come.” She replied, her mouth falling open when his lips got closer.
Closer… closer… closer—
“Sweetie?”
Y/N snapped out of her thoughts. “Sorry, dad. Got a little uh… distracted. What did you say?”
Rossi chuckled on the other end. “Uh I know you’ve got this… crush on Reid but…”
“Sorry— what? You’re breaking up.” Y/N furrowed her brows.
“I said I don’t want you to have a crush on—“
“Whoa— sorry dad. I can’t hear you. I have something in the oven that’s gonna burn— gotta go. Bye, love you!”
She hung up the phone, tossed it somewhere and shut her eyes. Spencer propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at her. “You have a crush on me?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”
Spencer chuckled and swiftly flipped them over so she was hovering over his face. “By sitting on my face?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’m okay with that.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.
It was Thursday morning and Y/N though she would stop by her dad’s office and bring everyone donuts.
She walked through with the box and smiled at the people who greeted her. She walked into the bullpen, Derek spotting her first.
“Hey, Rossi Junior!” He called out. “Good to see you, girl.” He smiled as he hugged her. “Even better to see you with food.” He kissed her cheek as the other started walking over to them. Derek took the box from her and set it down on one of the desks.
Rossi and Hotch walked up side by side and Spencer behind them with JJ and Garcia. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, daddy.” She smiled as he kissed both of her cheeks.
Hotch gave her a hug and greeted her swiftly. Garcia squealed as she hugged Y/N and rocked her back and forth. “Ugh! I haven’t seen this beautiful baby face in so long!” She said squeezing the woman.
“Pen— can’t… breathe.” Penelope apologized and let her go, pinching her cheek and going to see what kind of donuts she brought.
JJ and Emily hugged her next and then it got to Spencer. She glanced at his sexy face before nodding at him, knowing that he doesn’t really like physical contact.
It was crazy because she was sitting on his face not too long ago.
“So what brings you by, Y/N/N?” Derek asked, chewing on a glazed donut.
Y/N walked over leaning against a desk next to her dad who wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Oh, I was just on my way to work and I realized how much I missed you all so I brought you donuts and myself.” She smiled, motioning to both things.
She could swear she felt Spencer’s eyes on her. They usually were.
“Aw that’s sweet.” Emily smiled.
Y/N nodded. “I should really get going now.” She kicked off of the desk. “But I’m gonna go use the bathroom first.” She added.
Rossi rubbed her arm. “We’ll be in the round table room briefing so we’ll see you Saturday.”
Y/N smiled, kissing her father’s cheek. “See you all Saturday.”
They all said their goodbyes and she walked towards the bathroom.
When she got in there she smiled and waited by the door. A few moments later there were three knocks and she opened the door, quickly pulling her boyfriend in.
Desperate lips met hers and she reached behind him to lock the door as she kissed him. “I missed you.” She said in between kisses.
Spencer chuckled. “You saw me yesterday.” He smiled as her kisses grew deeper.
She hummed. “I wanna see you all day, every day.” She spoke, pulling away from him with a small pout on her lips. “How’d you get away from them?” She asked.
“I told them my mom called.” He whispered, pecking her lips. He gasped in shock when she hit his shoulder.
“Don’t use your mom to lie, Spencer that’s not nice!” She shook her head.
Spencer tilted his head to the side. “Would you rather me have told them that I was coming to make out with you or…” Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, get back out there. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She giggled, pushing him away gently.
Spencer shook his head. “No, you’ll see me tonight.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Yours or mine?”
The man caressed her cheek gently. “Mine. I’m gonna cook you dinner with all of the fun kitchen gadgets you made me buy.”
Y/N scoffed. “Spence, you didn’t even have a can opener!” She patted his chest and laughed.
He chuckled and kissed her once, twice, three times before she pushed him away. “Go before they get suspicious.” She whispered.
Spencer reluctantly pulled away and unlocked the bathroom door, slipping out discreetly and leaving Y/N to stand there with a warm smile on her face.
.•.•.•.•.•.
It was Saturday night and Spencer watched Y/N try on four different dresses from his spot in his bed.
They would leave from the same place but take different cars so it wasn’t suspicious. Spencer would take the longer way there and Y/N wold take the short cut.
“I don’t know, I think I like the blue one.” She said, turning so she could see the back in the mirror. She had on a blue satin dress that had a little bow on the back.
Spencer bit his lip. “Yeah… I definitely like the blue one too.” He said, looking at where the neckline swooped down.
“Stop looking at my boobs and come zip me up, please.” He rolled his eye with a smile and slid off the bed, walking up behind her and slowly lifting the zipper, stopping right before it was at the end.
“Are you sure I can’t unzip you?” He asked. “We’ve got thirty minutes and with the way you look, I only need five.” He dipped his head down, kissing her neck.
Y/N’s shoulders raised and she hummed. “You can take the dress off me when we get back here after dinner.” She said, planting her hand in his hair. “I can’t get all messed up. The they’ll know we’re together.”
Spencer groaned and wrapped an arm around the front of her, swiping his thumb across her red lips. “I can’t wait to see this pretty little makeup all smudged.” He said lowly into her ear. Her mouth dropped open and her chest heaved.
She wrapped her lips around his thumb and shut her eyes, her tongue swirling around it. He groaned. “I honestly don’t think I could ever get it up for anyone else.”
Y/N smirked and popped his thumb out of her mouth. “Change your tie. It’s the same color as my dress. We’re gonna look like we’re going to freakin’ prom together.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and stalked over to his closet.
.•.•.•.•.•.
Spencer arrived at Rossi’s 20 minutes after Y/N. She was chatting with Garcia and JJ over a glass of wine. She looked so pretty laughing and smiling.
“Hey, kid!” Rossi greeted, snapping him out of his trance. He smiled at the man. “There’s wine in the dining room, dinner will be done soon.”
“Great.” He smiled.
He was about to make his way to the dining room but Garcia called his name. “Boy Wonder! Over here!”
He stopped and sighed before turning to them with a smile. Y/N smiled at him, crossing her arms and sipping her wine.
“Soooooo, what are you doing for your birthday this year?” The blonde asked, grinning.
Hopefully getting my dick sucked. “Uh…” He shrugged. “I think I’m just gonna take my mom out to dinner and go buy some more books.” He nodded.
Derek came up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Uh, no.” He shook his head. “You can do the mom thing just no books, you nerd.” He spoke. “I’m taking you to a strip club.”
Y/N’s breath hitched and she slid her tongue across her teeth. Spencer glanced at Garcia before looking at his girlfriend. Hotch and Rossi joined their circle.
“Uh… I’m okay, actually. I’d rather just stay home.” He nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Derek scoffed. “Why? You got a girl or something?” Spencer tired and successfully avoided glancing at Y/N and shook his head shrugging.
“No, I just… don’t really wanna go see a bunch of naked girls.” I only wanna see one naked girl.
Emily snorted. “What planet are you from? What man doesn’t want to see a bunch of naked girls dancing around, swinging their hoo-has in your face?”
“Swinging?” Y/N grimaced. “What strip clubs have you been to?” She laughed.
Emily scoffed. “The good kind.”
Garcia shook her head. “Okay— anyway, I think Reid has a girlfriend, who’s with me?” She raised her hand.
Everyone including Y/N raised their hands. She pressed her tongue to the bottom of her mouth to keep from laughing.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Guys I don’t have a girlfriend.” He said, pulling his hand out of his pocket.
“Why is your thumb red?” JJ asked, nodding at his hand.
Y/N pressed her lips together and looked at the ground.
Spencer opened his mouth but shut it again. “I was making Kool-Aid earlier and that stuff stains like a bitch.”
Y/N sighed and shook her head slightly. Literally everyone on this room knows I live off of Kool-Aid. Literally had a Kool-Aid man themed birthday part, I am so obsessed.
She looked back up to meet her father’s stare. Y/N/N, Can you help me with the Carbonara?” He asked, nodding his head to the kitchen.
She swallowed and nodded, putting a smile on her face. She glanced at Spencer before following her father into the kitchen.
“Ooh, It smells good, dad.” She hummed, hoping that he wouldn’t try and talk to her about what all the awkwardness with Spencer was about.
“I remember when you were a little girl and you first learned how to make it with me.” He smiled, leaning against the counter on his palms.
Her phone buzzed in her bag and she took it out quickly.
Dick Dealer💘
How to lie to a behavior analyst: Don’t maintain excessive eye contact, keep your voice even, say my name if you refer to me, don’t fidget— I love you
She inhaled deeply and slid her phone back in her bag, setting it on the counter. “I love cooking with you, dad.” She smiled.
Rossi nodded towards his spice organizer and she walked over grabbing the black pepper and garlic powder.
“Can you be honest with me for a moment, sweetie?” He asked as she sprinkled the seasonings in. She glanced at him.
“Yeah, always.” She shrugged, smiling.
He walked around the kitchen island and sighed. “Are you… involved with Spencer Reid?”
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him, her lips quirking up. “What? No, of course not.”
Rossi nodded. “I just… I just noticed some weird stuff back in there. The way you got… jealous when Derek mentioned taking Spencer to a— his birthday plans.” He grimaced.
Y/N laughed a little, trying to keep her voice even. She looked at her dad, making eye contact with him. “Well, like you said you did figure out that I have a crush on Spencer. I was just jealous about that.” She shrugged.
Rossi nodded. “A-and I’ve noticed how weird it is that you seemingly ignore him when we’re all together. What’s up with that?”
Y/N scoffed. “God, dad. Do I need a lawyer or something? Why are you grilling me?”
The father sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just a little protective.”
His daughter smiled and looked back down at the pot she was stirring. “No, it’s okay. I get it but there’s nothing going on between Spencer and I.”
He smiled and kissed her head. “I’ve got it from here if you wanna go back out with your friends.”
Y/N bit her lip. “I think I’ll stay here with you. We need to catch up. How’s Crystal?”
.•.•.•.•.•.
At dinner, Spencer sat across the way from his girlfriend. He was sitting beside Rossi so there was no way he could see the looks that he was giving Y/N.
He was mostly giving her worried looks because she wasn’t making eye contact with him at all.
Once dinner was done, she stuck around to help clean up. Spencer bit his lip as he left the Rossi household, glancing at Y/N through the window before getting in his car and driving home where he would meet Y/N.
.•.•.•.
“Fuck!” Y/N panted and rolled off of him. Spencer gripped her hips even as she collapsed on the bed beside him, squeezing his eyes shut.
She shut her eyes and bit her lip, scooting forward to wrap her legs around his waist and laying her head on his chest. “M’sleepy, Spence.” She mumbled.
“So what did you and your dad talk about?” He asked, rubbing her skin.
Y/N popped her eyes back open. “Are you really asking me about my dad not even thirty seconds after I rode your dick?” She grimaced.
Spencer chuckled. “M’sorry, baby.” He kissed her head. “I just— you got all weird during dinner. You weren’t even looking at me.”
Y/N sighed. “He just asked me if I was ‘involved’ with you. I denied it, of course but I’m still not sure that he fully believes me.” She shrugged. “Did he say something to you?”
Spencer shook her head. “Nope.”
Y/N bit her lip. “Good.” She pressed her forehead into Spencer’s chest again and kissed it. “I’m going to sleep unless you wanna go again?” She smirked.
“You horn dog. Go to sleep.” He chuckled. “I love you.”
Y/N hummed and giggled sleepily. “I love you.”
An hour later Spencer was still awake, running his fingertips across the bare skin of Y/N’s back gently as she slept. His phone buzzed on the bedside table and he sighed, pausing his movements and reached over to grab it.
Rossi
I know she thinks you two are hiding it well. I’ll let you get away with it for now. You hurt my daughter, I shoot you in the face.
Spencer’s eyes widened and he almost groaned loudly had Y/N not been asleep on his chest.
He gulped and put his phone down deciding that he wouldn’t tell Y/N that her dad knew about them until it was a problem.
Which even when it was, he would still do everything to make sure she never got hurt.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WRITING THIS OMGGG
AND I LOVE YOU READER (WHO ASKED NOT TO BE TAGGED) If it’s not how you’d hoped, I will happily rewrite it:)
Spence and Y/N really we’re just horny this entire time💀 also Derek is an asshole 😭
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incognit0slut · 1 year
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Right Kind of Wrong (3)
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She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
Part Summary: she gets involved in a murder case she least expected as a familiar face greets her. wc: 3,7k
Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder
A/n: this part is kind of slow but it’s very important for the plot
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
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Y/N WAS GOING TO QUIT. She was sure of it. Her mind was constantly trying to plan how she would execute the idea without making a scene because she considered slamming her resignation letter on Jamison's desk, dramatically claiming him as a disgusting, chauvinistic bitter old man who only got laid because his wife took pity on him.
She was walking back to her desk after bearing another one of his, "I don't think you can do the job, L/n. Let the men go out to the field and cover the story."
She was also a journalist, for god's sake. And a good one at that. What made that old man think she wasn't as capable as any other male peers around her? Was she too much of a woman to go out on the field and cover stories that were judged as too dangerous for her?
She let out a scoff. The Jamison Lynch worried about her safety? That sounded even more absurd.
"He did it again, didn't he?" Y/n found Sandy, the closest friend she had in this male-dominated agency, peering over her cubicle. She was from the finance department and would often come to entertain her whenever she needed an ear to cry out her frustration. "What is it this time?"
She cleared her throat and made an attempt of lowering her voice into a deeper pitch. "L/n, I don't think you understand how dangerous it is for you to be out there. Let the men do the job."
Sandy laughed. "That's actually a good impression. What work was he talking about?"
"Kevin Marshall's case." Y/n sat back in her chair and frowned. "The ironic thing is, I was the one who found out about this case. I told him about doing a story of it before he snitched this opportunity and gave it to Eric."
"So Eric's covering the story now?"
"Yeah." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "They're still talking about it in his office."
Sandy blew a low whistle. "That sucks."
She felt beyond frustrated. It seemed so unfair how she always got the bad end of the stick just because she wasn't born with a penis. She told Sandy exactly that which she cackled in return.
"On a serious note," Sandy muttered after her fits of laughter died down and leaned closer. "What happened to Mr. Marshall was terrible."
"You didn't hear this from me, but the police found him stabbed to death and..." she looked around their surroundings, motioning her friend to inch closer. "...there was some writing carved on his body."
Sandy's eyes went wide. "No way."
She nodded. "A friend of a friend of a friend of mine heard it from the forensic team."
"What were the words?"
"Well, if I were to be the one assigned to this case, we would've found out." She shook her head and let out another frustrated cry. "I'm going to quit this job."
"You said that last month," Sandy reminded her. "And the month before that, also, the month before that. Oh, did I mention you also said that several months ago—"
She held out her hand. "Alright, I got it." She glanced over the closed door at the end of the hallway, her mind drifting towards the two men discussing her supposedly case behind it. "I really mean it this time."
"Sure," Sandy absentmindedly agreed. "Wait, didn't you know Mr. Marshall?"
"Not really. I only met him once for work." She winced as her thought traveled to the time she encountered the man who was brutally murdered two days ago. "Let's just say he wasn’t exactly the greatest person to interview."
"No kidding."
She dismissed the topic by waving her hand. "It happened a long time ago, let's not bring that up. I'd feel terrible bad-mouthing him after what happened." She then let out a sigh. "It would be quite a story to cover though."
"Yeah, well, screw Jamison for taking it away for you." Sandy's eyes suddenly gleamed as they narrowed towards the automatic door at the corner of the room. "At least your boyfriend is here."
Y/n spotted the young man walking their way and laughed. "He's not my boyfriend."
"I don't think he got the memo," Sandy whispered before straightening herself, giving the man a huge grin as he stopped at her desk. "Hey, Oliver."
"Hi, Sandy." He greeted slowly. "How are you?"
"Better now that I've seen your pretty face."
Oliver Walsh was indeed an absolutely stunning man. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and a very defined face. He was a little mysterious and reserved, but underneath that veneer was someone who was kind and caring.
He might not be the most outgoing person, but he had a genuine sweetness that made him attractive and likable. He also happened to have the hugest crush on Y/n the moment he first stepped foot inside this building.
Oliver gave Sandy a smile. "You look beautiful yourself."
Sandy rolled her eyes playfully. "We know I'm not the one you should be sweeping off her feet." She then gave Y/n a pointed look. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"What? You're going home already?"
"Got a hot date tonight!" Sandy overly shared before sauntering out of their sight. Y/n shook her head at her friend's antics before glancing up to see Oliver staring at her with the same look he had been giving her ever since the moment he had introduced himself.
His clear affection didn't go unnoticed. It somehow managed to be a public assumption that he was head over heels for her, something that was often discussed between their peers. As much as she wanted to reciprocate his feelings because she understood how difficult it was to be on the other side of unrequited love, she merely saw him as a guy she often worked with.
"Can I help you, Oliver?" She asked, already weary of the grin plastered on his face.
"No, I just wanted to see how you were doing."
Her face fell at his words. "How I'm doing?"
"I heard Jamison snatched a very important job from you."
"Wow," she gasped, not understanding how he knew this information already. But then again, people had the tendency to share things they overheard. "News really does travel fast around here."
"There's no such thing as secrets in this place. But seriously, how are you holding up?"
She simply shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Angry? Frustrated? Like I want to strangle Jamison myself?"
"Y/n, there's no such thing as a bad bone in your body."
"What? You don't think I'm capable of hurting him?"
"Nope. You're the sweetest person I know."
She snorted. "That's because you keep seeing me through rose-tinted glass."
"Maybe." Oliver crossed his arms and leaned his hips over her desk. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
She shook her head. He raised his brows. "Really? You can't think of anything?" She shook her head again. "Perhaps something to appease your frustration? Chocolate? You do love chocolate."
"I do, but I don't think anything sweet can even calm me down."
"Then how about a drink? Coffee? Beer? You and me? Together? Tonight?"
She let out a disbelief laugh as she stood up, making an attempt to gather her things. "Don't be so sly, Oliver."
He merely gave her a bashful smile. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
"It's never going to work between us." She paused dramatically. "Do you want to know why?"
He slowly nodded, eying her with earnest interest.
"Because you see, Oliver," she drawled as she closed the distance between them. She peered up at him through her lashes and threw him a grin. "I never mix business with pleasure."
She gave him a playful wink before turning around, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless as he stood there where she had left him. He let out an amused laugh before calling out, "I'm going to make you change your mind!”
She lifted her hand and waved at him without looking back. "Goodnight, Walsh."
His laughter was the last thing she heard before she turned around the corner, heading towards the parking area.
Turning him down was the right thing to do. She was not in the right place to be emotionally involved with other people right now. After going through so many heartbreaks and disappointments in the past, she couldn't take any more of the dating scene. It was just a bunch of awkward interactions and unmet expectations while feeling worn down by the whole process. She couldn't even remember the last time she was involved with a man.
A sudden mock laughter rang at the back of her head. You were involved with a complete stranger two nights ago!
Romantically, she corrected. She couldn't remember the last time she was involved with a man romantically.
Oh, great. Now she was fighting with herself upon what had happened that night. That... overwhelming and embarrassing night which she did not want to speak of. Overwhelming because of how much she wanted to see him again, embarrassing because she knew he did not feel the same.
She groaned as her mind somehow drifted to memory, her mind reminiscing that intoxicating feeling of his tongue inside her mouth for the first time. Or that moment before he settled above her, sinking between her legs as the tip of his hard, throbbing length squeezed into her warm entrance—
No! Don't even go there!
She stopped her pace and stood by the entryway of the parking lot, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. She needed a moment to breathe. Between her frustration toward her boss, the constant interest from her fellow colleague, and the rush of sexual heat at that core memory, her head was starting to spin.
It wasn't until a sudden weight shoved her from the back that she woke from her trance. She jolted forward from the impact before her bag fell onto the ground, the remnants of her things spilling out, and scattered along her feet. "What the hell?"
She looked up to see the back side of a man moving forward in a hurry, not even sparing her a glance.
"Hey!" She shouted, clearly annoyed by the fact an unidentified man wearing a dark hoodie covering his face didn't have the decency to apologize. When he turned around the corner and escaped her line of vision, she realized she wasn't going to get the apology she desired.
She picked up her belongings while muttering curses under her breath. Her phone which lay a few inches away from her feet suddenly vibrated, the loud sound of an incoming call echoing throughout the open space of the lot. She peered over towards the screen and groaned.
She shoved the phone inside her bag and went on her way as she spotted her car. "Now's not the time, Jamison," she mumbled to herself, already irritated by how the night had turned out.
Her phone went silent again. It wasn't until she was a few feet away from her car that it began its chime a second time. The sound felt heavy in her ears and she finally got to her car, leaned against it, and reluctantly dug into her bag to retrieve the device.
She clutched onto it with disdain because Jamison was known to be persistent while also being inconsiderate and thoughtless. If she ignored him he would find another way to get under her skin. She slumped against the cool material of her car and slowly took a deep, aggravating breath before receiving the call. "Yes, Jamison—"
There was heavy breathing at the end of the line. A static sound greeted her before a loud crash echoed in the background. She looked over her phone screen before pressing it back against her ear. "Jamison?"
"...help..."
His croaked voice shot shivers down her spine. She straightened herself as panic washed over her body. Her boss was known for being very loud as he loved being the center of attention. But his voice sounded so quiet now. It didn't have that hint of self-centered confidence he liked to portray. It even sounded as if he were... in pain?
"Jamison?" She gulped and without thinking of her actions, her feet somehow moved on their own, navigating her back to where she had left. "Jamison, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?"
"...Y/n..." Crash. Cough. Gasp. "...help—"
The line went dead.
Y/n wasn't exactly a fit person. Her only form of physical activity would be the number of stairs she climbed up and down in her apartment building. But her feet were moving very fast on its own right now. She didn't care how running in a pair of flats wasn't the best idea, the mortification of something awful happening to someone asking for her assistance was gnawing into her consciousness.
The moment she was on her office floor, she took notice of how nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The place was exactly how she had left minus all the people hanging by their respective desks. Because it was very, very quiet and the silence felt oddly eerie to her. Half of the lights were off and her steps halted for a moment as she entered her cubicle space, suddenly self-aware of the possibility of how something dangerous might occur.
Then she heard a scream. A deep, dreadful scream followed by a train of curses came from what she assumed was Jamison's office. Her feet moved again and her frightened demeanor was replaced by concern as she increased her pace, turning to the hallway towards his office.
Her movement faltered when she realized she wasn't alone. A very frightened-looking Eric Adler stood by Jamison's door before he turned around at the sound of her footsteps.
"Eric?"
His voice was etched with panic and horror as he rushed forward and held her by the arms. "No, Y/n."
"...what?" Her eyes shot behind him, noticing Jamison's door jarred open. She tried to escape his grip. "You don't understand. He called me—"
"No. Please. You don't want to see him in there—"
"Let go of me! He called—"
"Y/n." His grip tightened. "He's—he's... gone."
She looked up to see her coworker, the same man who simply stood in silence this evening as he took the job she had wanted. The confused look in his eyes from the sudden responsibility he had to take on that particular moment was now replaced by terror; a look of sheer horror, one which conveyed utter fear and panic. It was a look of complete devastation and utter helplessness, a look that made his soul seem to have been just sucked out of his body. It was the kind of look that conveyed the deepest despair one could possibly feel.
He's gone.
Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean disappearance. It could mean an emotional state of feeling disconnected from the world. But this gone... she understood what it meant. She understood the weight of the word the moment her eyes spotted the surge of blood coming from Jamison's office.
There was so much blood that she should've felt disgusted by the amount of it, but her mind was too busy trying to convince herself that it was real. It wasn't until her eyes spotted a hand sprawled lifelessly across the floor that her stomach started to churn. The stone rings circling around the fingers were the exact rings she often saw on her boss.
The realization on her face had Eric pulling her away. But before he could drag her, she saw a glimpse of the lifeless body, and what she caught had her completely stunned. More than feeling mortified by the scene, a sense of bewilderment settled in. The disbelief of such a coincidence happening etched her mind as she peered over the body one last time.
Because something was carved along his arm.
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There was a lot of waiting. Feeling impatient was one of the most frustrating things to ever exist, it made her feel anxious and restless about the lack of progress after Eric had called the authorities. He had guided her to the front area of the receptionist, given her a blanket he had found somewhere in the office—which she wasn't sure who it even belonged to—and given her a cup of warm tea as he made some calls.
She sat there, watching her coworker pace back and forth along the marble floor. She could tell Eric's mind was secretly all over the place with his disheveled hair and dark circles underneath his eyes, but somehow he managed to keep his calm.
He was steady, still a little fazed with the whole ordeal, but managed to keep checking up on her every five minutes. He even had the time to apologize for taking her job before she merely shook it off. It wasn't his decision to snatch away the opportunity. Though it felt inappropriate to point fingers at the person who actually did decide on the matter when he was lying in the other room covered in his own blood.
She shuddered again. There were so many questions running through her mind. What kind of person would do a terrible, gruesome thing to another human being? It was always the same question she had whenever she encountered such devastating news. She once read in an article that there were roughly 300,000 people who were killed by murder each year worldwide, and to think that one of them happened to somebody she knew felt so surreal.
The authorities finally came an hour later followed by a group of people wearing protective suits. The waiting for their arrival was very long, but everything happened so fast the moment they introduced themselves. A detective in an oversized suit talked to her and Eric separately, asking what happened prior to finding the body.
She suddenly felt nauseous as she recalled Jamison's phone call, how pained and desperate his voice sounded. It wasn't until she heard herself say it out loud that she realized the possibility of the killer being in the same room on that phone call. Or even in the same room as her as she entered the vicinity of their office.
"Ms. L/n?" Y/n looked up to see the detective watching her with worry. "Are you alright?"
No, she wasn't. But she merely nodded and gave him a smile. "I will be."
He returned the smile with a genuine one of his own and glanced at his watch. "You should get some sleep, Ms. L/n. If you have any more information please don't hesitate to contact us."
Then he left her standing there alone, watching people bustling around her with different equipment. She could hear the faint sound of the ambulance from the distance, smell the intoxicating scent of chemicals coming from the medics, and sense her fatigue creeping along her body as her eyes noted the time showed on the massive clock plastered on the wall.
"Ms. L/n?"
Y/n turned to see a man standing close, his dark eyes watching her cautiously. There was a sense of confidence in his posture that she couldn't help but notice. "Yes?"
"Mr. Adler told me where to find you." She frowned at the mention of Eric before her confusion deepened at the badge presented in front of her. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan from the FBI."
"FBI?"
"Yes," he confirmed, shoving his badge back into his pocket. "I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding this past event."
She crossed her arms. "I don't think my boss being brutally killed should be called an event." She steadied her gaze on him. "And I've already talked to the detective."
"My apologies, and I'm terribly sorry for your loss." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Although I would appreciate it if you can spare a few minutes of your time."
She observed him, watching him hesitantly before letting out a heavy sigh. "I guess so."
"Is there anywhere private we can talk?"
His attempt at keeping their conversation confidential from all the people swarming by had her quirking an eyebrow. She nodded and guided him toward the closest space that could provide them some privacy. "Sure... We can use the conference room down here."
"Thank you. My partner will also be present with us if you don't mind."
She looked him up and down. "There's two of you?"
"There's two of us," Agent Morgan confirmed, slightly smiling at the condescending tone of her voice. "Dr. Reid will shortly join us."
The silence after that statement was very, very palpable. The sudden stillness was one that typically left her feeling completely baffled, a state of total shock and disbelief over a familiar name unexpectedly mentioned. The uncertainty of her ability to hear left her frozen in her tracks, waiting for her brain to catch up with the sudden information. "Doctor... Reid?"
"Dr. Spencer Reid. He was talking to Mr. Adler a while ago—wait, there he is." Agent Morgan's voice grew louder as his eyes focused on the man behind them. "Reid! Over here!"
He surely couldn't be...?
She shook her head. The world wasn't that small, was it? Even though she was very bad at remembering names, how could she forget the exact same one she wrongly called as a result of her pettiness? And besides, there must be a lot of people possessing the same name, surely it was a different person.
Though the deafening lack of sound was jarring as if every other sound had been sucked out of the room. It almost felt like everything was frozen in time as her eyes settled on the man standing a few feet away from her. Because there he was, the same man who awkwardly flirted with her two days ago.
The same man who grabbed her by the waist the moment she looked up at him with need. The same man who leaned in closer, the tension charged with anticipation and desire before it lead to an explosion of passion that couldn't be quelled.
But the desperate longing in his eyes from that night was changed into mortification, and when she thought her night couldn’t go more terrible than it already was, it had gotten even worse.
>> NEXT PART
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wrenreid · 1 year
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Hands-on Learning
synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)
word count: 4k
content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration
Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.
And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.
Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.
I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.
Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)
We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.
Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.
My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.
Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.
I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.
"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."
I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.
However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.
"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.
"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.
The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.
It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.
"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.
He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.
I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.
I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.
And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.
——
"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.
"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.
"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.
He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.
"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.
I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."
"Y/n," he warns.
"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.
He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.
"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.
He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"
"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"
"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."
"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.
Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."
The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.
After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.
That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.
Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.
"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.
"Sure am, doc."
The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.
——
"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.
"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.
"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.
The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.
The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.
"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.
He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."
I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.
"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."
His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."
"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."
"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.
I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.
"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.
"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.
"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.
"Bar. To drink and play games."
"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.
Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.
"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."
He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."
"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.
——
“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.
He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.
"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.
"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."
"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.
"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.
"No," I answer.
That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.
I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.
After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.
"What's up?" I ask.
"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.
I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."
Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.
"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.
I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.
"Hm?"
"Why'd we leave so early?"
"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.
"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.
"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.
My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.
"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.
He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.
"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.
His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline.  "I thought you were heartless."
"I take back my previous statement."
"I missed you too," Spencer says.
"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.
The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.
"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"
"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.
——
"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.
I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.
"Hit me," I say.
He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."
"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.
"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."
A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"
"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.
"Have you never...?"
Spencer shakes his head.
I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.
"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"
"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."
"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.
"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.
"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."
"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.
"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.
He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.
"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.
"Would you?"
I nod slowly, hesitantly.
He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.
"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.
Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.
He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.
My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.
He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"
I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.
"Say it."
"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.
I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.
"Keep doing that," I whine softly.
He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.
"Mhm," I noise.
I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.
A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.
"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.
"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"
I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."
Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”
"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.
"You included?"
"Me included."
"What do you like?" He asks.
"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"
Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."
I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."
"Head. Noted," he nods.
He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.
"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.
He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.
Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.
His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.
I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.
“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.
Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.
Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.
The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.
I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.
“Do you like this?”
I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”
He does as he’s told.
When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.
"Just like that, Spencer. So good."
A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.
My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.
"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.
"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"
He shakes his head.
"Wow."
"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.
"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."
I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.
I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.
I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.
He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.
"Just a gentlemen," I grin.
I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.
"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.
"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.
"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."
I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.
Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.
"Wha-?"
"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."
"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.
He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.
I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.
Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.
We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.
"Who's?"
"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."
"What?" I chuckle, confused.
"There's no date,” he says, point blank.
"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.
He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.
Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.
tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer
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bau-drabbles · 11 months
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his apartment was a mess, that was the first thing you noticed. books scattered, glasses all around the table, curtain half closed, it was all very unlike dr spencer reid. he like to organise his things very particularly, but now it had looked as if everything was ran through by car leaving nothing but remains. he had many different lamps on his wall but only one was on. a small golden glow illuminating just how chaotic the room was looking.
but still you enter through, quietly walking across his tiled floors. the air felt thick with tension, as if something wasn't quite right. you knew lately he'd been having a hard time but in typical reid fashion, he had decided to bottle his feelings. and now when it was overflowing, everything around him was going up in flames. he had lashed out on you terribly, and even if you knew he didn't mean it, it still hurt nonetheless.
you walk through the apartment gingerly, your hands delicately skimming the books as you walk by. you heard a shuffle in the other room and your heart drops when you see him. he's in a jumper and some sweats, the nightgown tied loosely around him. he's standing by the window watching the sun set, the sky erupting in different colours of red and orange.
all of it would've been so magical had you not noticed the way his shoulders tense and the way his hands clutching tightly around himself. he fiercely wipes away the fresh tears with the back of his hand, cursing at himself for being so weak. but they still streamed down his reddened face. you hear his erratic breaths, trying to stop himself from having another panic attack and it all but breaks your heart piece by piece.
before you could even say a word, he caught your reflection in the window. with a deep breath he turns around and there you really stand. you set the books on the table and his lip trembles, clamping down his teeth over it so you didn't see how entirely pathetic he was. his locks were displayed all around his forehead. he wasn't sleeping, the bags under his eyes certainly had seen better days.
"you came..." his breath was hitched in his throat, a tear spilling from his eyes and you slowly nodded coming closer. he speaks like he genuinely hadn't expected you, as if you could ever ignore a sad call that came from him no matter what time it was.
seeing him so torn up, it was everything in you not to immediately hug him then and there. but you remain in your place, just looking at the sweet man in front of you. how much sadness and pain he had to carry, burdens that weren't his to hold, fell heavy upon his shoulders. you could see how defeated he had become.
"you called..." your voice is gentle, soothing, as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. he looks back down, his reddened cheeks stained with fresh tears. his adam apple bobs in his throat with the words he could sat but nothing comes out. nothing but his voice wavering and breaking down in front of you. his fingers clutches the ends of the desk and his face crumples when he turns back to the window.
"i'm sorry..." he whispers, sniffing as he stares out on the city and its inhabitants. your gaze follows by, walking slowly and softly to him.
"i know, it's okay" you lean against the desk as you occupy the space next to him. you know he'll speak to you when he's ready, you know better than to overwhelm him with what has happened. so your mouth remains closed, you remain simply by his side. not going anywhere unless he said to.
you didn't expect him to come closer, resting his face on your shoulder. his hands cradles a book close to his chest as he takes a deep breath in, his heart slowing down for the first time that night. you can smell his sweet shampoo and his cologne as his hands reaches for yours, holding it within his grasp. your fingers gently smooth over his knuckle tenderly, almost like a mother taking care of her child.
"thank you" his voice is soft, hoarse as he holds your hand tighter. you both just look out of the window, relishing in each others company. knowing words couldn't possibly come close to what you were both feeling. that he was clinging on to your touch just as desperately as you were. that despite what had happened, you'd always be there for him whenever he needed. no matter what.
"you're welcome"
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0and0its0doctor0 · 1 year
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I'll wear out the words I love you
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Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Mentions of blood, injuries, nothing graphic
Summary: Spencer finally asks the question that’s been on his mind for months…just not when and where you’d expect
Word Count: 305
“You look beautiful.” The words caught you off guard and you paused. Maybe you had a head injury or something, there was no way that Spencer Reid just said you looked beautiful at the present moment. “Babe. I’m covered in blood. Most of which isn’t even mine.” You said looking down at your blood stained shirt. Some of it was from your busted nose but most of it belonged to the unsub you just got done taking down. Spencer was impressed, he just watched you fight the unsub and subdue him all on your own and you came out only moderately scathed. Your vision was starting to swim. “Marry me.” Spencer said seriously while holstering his firearm. You paused. You were seeing two of him. You had to be hearing things too.
“I’m sorry what? I’m seeing two of you.” You muttered pressing a hand to your temple. “Diplopia. It means double vision. Marry me.” He again asked the same thing and you stared at him. “Baby are you okay? Did you get hit in the head?” You asked, looking up at him as he stepped towards you. He had that grin on his face that made your heart beat harder in your chest and your mouth go dry. “Marry. Me.” He enunciated each word, brushing hair out of your face and tilting your chin up with his fingertips. “Yeah. Of course.” You said with a smile. He leaned down and captured your lips not caring about the blood from your nose. When he pulled away he was panting, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said grabbing your hand and walking you over to a waiting ambulance. You couldn’t believe your boyfriend just asked you to marry him in the middle of a crime scene. You really hoped you didn’t just hallucinate the whole thing.
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lechemoon · 1 year
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the one where you're distracted by his hair
spencer reid x reader
wc: ~1.1k
a/n: currently doing my very slow rewatch of criminal minds and he's walking with a cane with his long hair <3 hope you enjoy! no warnings apply
-
for some people, the constant ticking of a clock in a quiet room is enough to distract them from work. the continuous sound of ticking and tocking and ticking and tocking making it just so that every 10 ticks causes a spelling error in a report.
you didn’t understand this much; clocks don’t bother you unless you’re sitting completely still. the ticking makes you want to move, so that’s what you do when you hear the time pass
for others, the click clack of a mechanical keyboard around them can drive them absolutely up the wall. 
you didn’t understand this either. you love the sound of your own mechanical keyboard at home. you have half a mind to actually bring it to the office with you, but the knowledge of people hating tactile switches keeps you from doing so.
you also don’t understand what is up with spencer’s hair lately. the sight of it just barely past his shoulders in slight waves. the look of it so light brown that it makes you crave either caramel or chocolate (or both- you aren’t picky). 
for whatever reason, he has decided to let it grow. and for whatever reason, you have decided that it’s the most mesmerizing and distracting thing in the BAU.
the length looks good on him. you like the shape it takes and the way it naturally falls. truthfully, you thought spencer’s hair was straighter. you never noticed how it curled at the ends til it grew to his shoulders.
it’s especially shiny today, soft-looking. you wonder if yesterday was his wash day. it looks healthy, too. like he uses a specific type of shampoo to get his hair to be just so.
it looks like he’s taking a break. you can tell because he’s skimming a book he’s probably already memorized, fingers gliding down so he doesn’t lose his spot in the event that his attention is called elsewhere. 
as you stare, you take your own hair in your hands and brush it with your fingers. a finger gets caught in a small tangle, making you wince slightly. you wonder if your hair looks soft and shiny, too. if he would think so.
the hand scanning the page takes a break so that it can tuck a piece of fallen hair away from his face and behind his ear instead. for a second you wish it was your hand helping him (you want to run your fingers through it just once), and the idea makes you flush slightly. 
and maybe the flush serves as a giveaway or a siren, because spencer looks up from his book directly at you. not abruptly. it’s like you watch it happen in slow motion.
his eyes stop tracking the page, his brows furrow together slightly, and he just… looks at you.
spencer gives you a confused look, as if to say do i look funny? do i have egg on my face?
then his confused face gives you a shy, questioning smile. why were you staring at me? something catch your eye?
“oh my god,” you whisper to yourself, averting his gaze and hunching over your desk to escape it. you’ve been caught ogling. 
you want to bonk your forehead on your desk, but your hands stop you because you’ve already buried your face in them. as if already disappearing in your own cubicle wasn’t enough to hide from spencer.
ignore me, ignore me, ignore-
you hear wheels from one of the desk chairs rolling your way. you don’t have to look to see who it might be, because you already know.
so, you raise your head up from your desk, and smooth your hair using your hands. the sight of spencer dragging himself towards your desk using his chair as a vehicle and his cane as an oar as if he were rowing greets you. it’s silly, and you think the thought shows on your face because he smiles at you again.
after he decides he is close enough to you (a respectable arms length away) he sets his cane on his lap and wiggles a bit to make himself cozy. “hey, y/n.”
“hey, reid,” your voice cracks a bit. clearing your throat, you try again. “hello, reid.”
he looks at you expectantly, but you honestly don’t know what he’s expecting. was he wanting to know why he caught you staring? that’s so forward.
“so,” he leads. 
you raise a brow. “so…?” you think maybe if you play it off, he’ll let it go.
the feigned confusion doesn’t trick him, so he gets to the point. “were you uh, were you staring at me? you know, our brains are kinda wired to inform us when it feels like we’re being watched and it definitely felt like i was being watched a minute ago.”
“oh, uhm,” you feel your face heat up only slightly, “no?”
he gives you a small laugh. “no?” he repeats back to you.
you’re hoping that your nerves aren’t showing, but it’s hard when a profiler confronts you. damn them and their profession.
“i mean… yes?” you tap your fingers on your desk to let out jitters so that you don't bounce your leg. 
“was there something on my face? did i do something? were you-“
“nothing on your face,” you interrupt. it was your hair you want to say to be truthful. “i just- your book.” you settle on. you look over at his unoccupied desk and nod your head in the direction for extra effect. “what were you reading?”
something akin to relief washes over him. did he really think he had something on his face besides the hair he’s tucked behind his ear? 
“it’s margaret atwood. cat’s eye,” he explains, letting the word eye fall from his voice gradually. “it’s about a woman who’s reflecting on her youth and her childhood.”
you don’t have the guts to tell him that you weren’t actually focusing on the book. you also don’t have the heart to tell him you don’t read much. but hearing him talk about it makes you ask, “can i borrow the book when you’re done?”
he looks between you and the book way over on his desk, his hair making its way from behind his ear back to the side of his face. it looks so much softer up close.
your fingers that were previously tapping your desk twitch, like they want to reach out and twirl the escaped piece of hair and wrap it around your index finger.
“of course!” he says, excitement coating his words. you’ve heard from his team that he loves sharing things with others who want to know more. “remind me to give it to you before the day ends. i’m almost done with it!”
another lock of hair falls slightly out of place, this lock on the other side. it frames his features almost like a picture. he doesn’t fix it, just lets it stay there partially covering the outer corner of his eye. and you can’t help what you ask next.
“spencer?”
“hm?”
“may i touch your hair?”
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xalicitie · 8 months
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Whispers — Spencer Reid (smut/fluff)
Scarlett is a young member of the BAU—contemplative, decisive and quietly cunning. Spencer Reid is a young agent as well, with a running mouth clogged with data and facts, and a clumsy charm. Over what starts as a little rumor, and a shameful dream, two agents realize there’s not as much keeping them from each other than it seems.
— This is an excerpt from a short story/fanfic I’ve been putting together for awhile. First of all: I’m alive! Yes, if anyone cares 🤩. I’m coming back with yet another fandom to write about, and it’s Criminal Minds. Tell me if u want part 2 of this (smut), or if I should release the first parts. Or maybe whatever else I should write abt😻
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As soon as the marble tiles hit Spencer's feet, he knows something is up.
A moment of eye contact doesn't say anything near what it used to. Even just an hour ago, when their gazes would come together, Scarlett's warm eyes would fall curious, maybe lost. But when he's locked eyes with her, fifty feet away, her body sunken in the couch, he realizes something changed. By the way she isn't watching him, digging for answers yet quick to avert her gaze elsewhere, he can just tell. Someone said something.
It kills him. They're standing in the same room, but they're thoughts have roamed to a distance Spencer can't calculate anymore. He has no idea what's been told to her, to what degree she knows, what she thinks of him anymore?
More than anything, Spencer frankly just wants to talk to her again. He's come to the revelation, slowly, that this has come too far. It should've been their own thing, but by the heaviness of the eyes on him, he senses more people know than he'd ever warranted.
When they're waiting for hotel keys, Spencer watches the three women head upstairs to their own rooms. The team's rooms will be adjacent to each other, as they always are. Derek's on the couch, eyes shut with his headphones on, when Spencer decides he'll interrupt his leisure time.
"Derek."
Spencer comes over, shaking him to his wake.
Derek doesn't take it lightly. He jolts awake, even with as light as he was sleeping, and peers at Spencer through slitted eyes.
"What is it?" He asks, grumbling.
Spencer sits besides him, and Derek sees his panic. His hands are gesturing hastily before he can ever get a word out.
"Scarlett knows something. Did you tell someone, Derek?"
Spencer watches, wide-eyed.
He actually wasn't expecting that Derek had told anyone—he took it that maybe Emily had figured out. But, judging by the way Derek goes dead silent, still as a dead fly, he realizes he overestimated Derek's loud mouth.
"..You told Emily?!"
"Reid, I'm sorry, I-" He faces Spencer, flushed red in anger. "I'm sorry, kid."
"You had one thing to do!"
Rather boiling with hysteria and panic than anger, Spencer puts his hands to the sides of his face. He sinks into the seat beside Derek's.
Spencer's plunged in contemplation. He doesn't know exactly what she knows, but there's a chance Scarlett knows that Spencer had a sex dream of her. He, as involuntarily as he did, pictured her, bare and nude. She, his coworker. She, his best friend.
"Spencer, I shouldn't have done it."
Spencer holds his eyes back from rolling into their sockets. Of course he shouldn't have.
"She's probably disgusted."
Spencer sighs. Derek watches him, bummed to see Reid like this. Stressed and almost wretched.
"..Reid, I told you. She likes you for you, she understands."
"No, she thinks I'm a weirdo who pictured her naked—wait."
Spencer stops. Coming to a pensive pause, he faces Derek.
"Did Emily say anything about how she feels?"
Derek's brows come up, and he smirks a little, lips parting. "That's the part I didn't tell you."
Spencer comes up. His limbs animate and his brown eyes burnish, staring at Derek for an answer.
"Emily's convinced Scarlett has the exact same feelings for you."
Derek watches as Spencer comes to an amalgamation of hope and, at the same time, the exact doubt that's been plaguing him the whole day.
"Emily's convinced. But Scarlett didn't say so."
"Reid, you have to find out for yourself."
Pressing his lips, Spencer meets Derek's eyes.
"..Tonight?"
Silence permeates the space with them, and Derek wordlessly nods deliberately.
Despite everything, every instinct upraised and alert in wariness inside Spencer, he knows tonight can only work.
Yet, as soon as Spencer gets his keys, he's darting to his room and closing it shut, through the doorframe without a peek towards Scarlett's door.
He can do it another day, right? He couldn't physically bring himself to her door—there couldn't be a magnet on Earth that could pull him away from his hotel bed.
Spencer feels pathetic. But the idea of the look on her face, her soft features all ruined with disgust and judgement—he doesn't want to fathom it. He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to take any steps now. He's pacing the rug, biting his lips nervously when he quickly grabs his book from his bag. Hitting the mattress and burying his face into the words, a poor yet sufficient antidote for his raucous mind. For now.
Word after word, he forgets. Tonight, he reads slow. Sucking every word in and shielding himself from his embarrassment.
It feels like he can do this all night. He decides he’ll read, and read—move onto the next book if he has to—until he sleeps, without the worry of the decision plaguing him.
But someone has something else in mind.
Spencer had no idea how much time has passed when someone knocks on his door.
The cool, night air is ghosting, and Spencer's staring at his door.
It could be Morgan. He might be standing with a waiting expression before Spencer's door, waiting to drag him towards Scarlett's door.
Or it could be Scarlett herself.
Spencer keeps sitting on his bed dumbly, up until another knock comes.
He's tempted to stay rooted to his bed. He feels like he is. But he feels whoever's outside waiting, and with a volition he doesn't understand, he's standing. Walking over to the door, and after a few moments, he's turning the knob slowly.
Opening the door, Spencer finds his heart pounding when he sees Scarlett in front of him.
Brown hair caressing her shoulders, brown eyes staring up at him. She came over.
"Spencer."
She announces. Greets. Nothing can describe the air between them right now.
Spencer gazes down at her. She hasn't been this close since the coffee incident earlier the morning. It startles him, but having her near reminds him of the ease she used to bring him.
If it were under any other circumstances right now, he might just be able to be comfortable with her again.
He dismisses his thoughts, and decides to actually reply. ..After several moments, that is.
"Scarlett."
He barely utters out.
He can't read her. She looks like she's here for something, but it's taking her awhile to get to the point. Her gaze is wandering and quick—it almost seems she's .. about as nervous as he is?
"-Can I come in?"
Spencer's lips part ever so slightly—the smallest tell that he's relieved.
No repulsed retort, no glower. She wants to come in?
Spencer's mouth hangs open before he realizes how stupid he probably looks, shutting his lips and nodding.
Eyes hesitant, but warm, she smiles at him. Spencer watches wordlessly as her lithe body slips past him, into his hotel room.
He closes his door silently. He's staring at her back. Her hair looks weightless. He hasn't liked having to keep his eyes off of her—every chance that came around, he took to sneak a little glance. She's always been so effortlessly beautiful.
So why is she in his room? If she knows absolutely anything, why is she not hiding from him, at several doors' distance?
"You're reading Stephen King?"
She turns and Spencer gulps in his nerves, licking his lips and shuffling towards her.
"Um, yeah." He offers. "Garcia recommended the book."
Scarlett flips through the pages of The Shining. Her caramel eyes graze over the words lightly.
"It's good?"
Spencer's watching her, and his heart pounds when she meets his gaze.
"Y—Yeah." Spencer kneads a hand through his hair. "It's interesting. I tried reading it slower, to enjoy it more, but .. I only have maybe 40 pages left."
Scarlett nods silently, turning the pages and leaving the room wordless.
Spencer's eyes are furrowed. She comes into his room and takes it upon herself to read his book? While he could watch her fifty million times, eyes sucked in and file through her features that were so pleasant to the eyes—her softly pink lips, her alabaster skin—he can't. Cause he's about to bubble over with curiosity, the curiosity of why she ended up with him despite the odd circumstances.
"Scarlett-"
He gulps when her gaze comes to his. "Um. Don't take this wrong, I just want to know. ..Why are you here?"
Her lips sit in silence. Spencer's fidgety, yet he can't keep his eyes off hers. He's searching the burnished color of her eyes for answers. While she's prone to go silent like this sometimes, there is just so much more tension in her quietness.
She diverts her eyes somewhere near the floor, and comes forward a bit. Spencer can feel himself struggling to keep up with the pace of his breathing.
"I'm here for a reason." She starts. She's not meeting his eyes fully, but there's a shift in her tone that makes her sound candid. She approaches, and Spencer finds the silence alarmingly deafening.
Then she locks their eyes.
"Spencer..did you have a sex dream about me?"
SHIT.
Spencer's immediately red. He opens his mouth for words to come out, but it turns out there's a void between his lips.
He feels like killing Derek. As he stutters and spits and glances around, mumbles coming out jumbled from his tongue, curses are spilling in his mind.
Nothing coherent comes out of his mouth. He doesn't bare to see the look on her face—he's so caught up trying to make a response that somehow suits his needs, he doesn't recognize the apparent calm in her countenance.
"Spencer, look I'm not mad about it."
Then Spencer stops.
All his attention is on Scarlett. It's her turn to halt into silence.
Maybe he's wrapped up in a delusion. But she looks rosy, put in a daze, as he does, too. It's an odd moment—they're both flustered. Staring at each other, Spencer has the feeling they're both, individually, trying to put together whether they want the same thing.
He's not sure at all. But she's come close, and he's praying she rejects him, before the urge to end this burdensome situation by bringing their lips together ends up becoming too much to bear.
"Scarlett, tell me what you want."
Her gaze is suddenly glued on Spencer's.
He's staring at her with an unfeigned curiosity. He leaves room for the possibility that he's got this completely wrong. But what he said is completely candid—he wants exactly what she wants.
If Scarlett wants to rush out the door in disgust, she can and will. If she wants to forget about all of this, sure. If her eyes are telling the truth, and the crave lacing her pupils isn't a daydream, he'll give her everything she needs.
Without a word, Scarlett brings her body to his, nearing his head with a hand and ending it with a kiss.
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darlingspencie · 1 year
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a/n: this is just a little one shot i’ve had sitting in my notes for a while and i thought it was cute
—-
reid had been waiting for approximately 37 minutes. they were supposed to meet at 4:30, but now that it was steadily approaching 5:10 spencer was getting worried. he glanced towards the door of the cafe one more time, hoping he’d see her bustling in, full of apologies and raindrops spilling off her coat. 
with a sigh, he stood up, placing a couple bills on the table as an apology. he cracked his knuckles, rubbed his eyes, adjusted his coat and walked towards the door. 
and it’s as his hand reached for the handle that she came flying in. 
she fluttered about in her usual chaos, but spencer could feel something was off. her chest was heaving, and she kept her eyes trained at her feet as if to avoid looking at him. 
“spence i’m so sorry, i got caught up at the school and then there was traffic and then the principal called and just so much has happened today and i know you wanted to meet with me today and i’m sorry that i’m such a mess right now i would never want you to see me like this i just-“ he cut her off by tilting her chin up and gently pressing his lips to hers. 
he could taste her salty tears, wiping them away with his thumb as they continued to stream down her cheeks. when he finally pulled away, she sniffled, eyebrows furrowing. 
“spencer i’m literally a crying mess right now. how could you possibly think to kiss me right now?” she asked, bewildered. he immediately back tracked, pulling away his hand. 
“oh my god i am so sorry, i am so so sorry, i just thought we sort of, uh you know, connected, and i just- oh my god i can’t believe i did that i’m genuinely so sorry,” he sputtered, backing away. she stood silent for a second, sniffling and wiping their tears off their face. 
and then she rushed forward, letting her hands run around his waist, slipping under his shirt, spreading across the expanse of his back. one hand slipped out of his shirt and up to the back of his neck. 
and she was pulling him in. 
kissing him. 
oh. 
oh. 
his hands jumped from her hips to her hair, her jaw to her waist, tugging at her, pulling her closer. he savored every movement of her lips, drank in every breath she took in between kisses. 
when they finally broke apart, spencer was speechless. he just stared down at her, hands still on her cheeks while hers still rested in his hair and on his back. he couldn’t help the smile that broke over his face. it almost hurt how hard he was smiling, eyes glittering down at her as she broke into a breathless, teary smile in return. 
he leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead and taking a moment to just envelop all his senses in her. 
“spence?” her voice broke him out of his silent reverie. he hummed in response, pulling away to look her in the eyes again. 
“can we just eat at your place?” 
he laughed, running his hand down her arm before interlocking their fingers. 
“let’s go.”
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aperrywilliams · 1 year
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Green Card - Ch2: The Arrangement (Spencer Reid x Fem!OC)
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Author Masterlist / Series Masterlist
Previous chapter < > Next chapter
——————
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC (Ana María González)
Series summary: What reason leads two complete strangers to marry? For Spencer, the chance of his mom being admitted into a new medical trial. For Ana María González is to get the elusive green card.
Chapter summary: Ana is mad after talking with Spencer, and he wants to apologize. But at some point, Spencer's crazy offer doesn't seem that crazy.
Word Count: 3.7k
CW: None I can think of.
A/N: Chapter 2 is here. I’m back with the series. Let me know what you think.
——————
What the hell was he thinking?
When Spencer got to his apartment, the rush of the previous hours subsided. That led to deep regret for what he did.
He insulted Ana. He wanted to take advantage of her need to fulfill his own. What kind of man does that? Spencer felt terrible and barely slept. Tossing and turning, his main worry wasn't his mother's medical treatment anymore. It was how badly he acted with Ana. He needed to apologize for it. He would do it the next day. If he were lucky enough, the team wouldn't be called on a case, and he could go to the coffee shop to talk to her.
When Ana woke up the following morning, she didn't want to get up. A headache settled as she opened her eyes. Good thing her shift didn't start before noon. That gave her some time to feel a bit better before work.
But as soon as she entered the coffee shop, Sarah jumped to ask her questions, and Ana was convinced her headache would return quickly.
"How come the Pumpkin-pie-guy came after you yesterday, and you didn't call me to tell me? Did he ask you out? I knew he only had eyes for you. I assume you gave him your number. When is your first date?"
Ana rolled her eyes and huffed. This was the least she wanted: being reminded of her awful moment with Spencer the day before.
"Sarah, please, stop. I'm not in the mood," the girl groaned, passing by her coworker and heading to the kitchen. But Sarah didn't give up and followed her.
"Oh, come on. Won't you tell me anything? It's not fair!"
Ana halted and turned to look at Sarah sternly.
"Okay. Do you want to know? The only thing I'll tell you is the guy is a jerk - un real estúpido - like every man in this world. Period," she grumbled, grabbing her apron from the hook to put on.
"What did he do? Did he do something to you? Oh, that bastard! If he did something, I'm going to kill him!" Sarah threatened. Ana sighed, shooking her head.
"No, no. The guy didn't ‘do’ anything to me. I mean, he just behaved like a jackass. That's all. I'm okay," Ana reassured Sarah before grabbing some cutlery and cups to put on the rack.
Sarah didn't know if pushing it was a good idea, so she kept silent and stopped asking questions. It's not she didn't want to know everything, but Ana looked so disappointed and sad. She decided to keep her mouth shut, just for now.
Ana tried to focus on work that day. The hustle and bustle in the coffee shop were enough to keep her head on it and not on her problems, at least for a couple of hours.
For Spencer, though, trying to focus on the job didn't work. While the stack of paperwork was huge, it didn't stop him from dwelling on the events of the previous day over and over again.
On the one hand, he needed to get used to the idea his mom would lose her chance in the clinical trial because he could not fulfill a little requirement. Maybe 'little' was an understatement, but Spencer kept telling himself it was a stupid requirement after all.
On the other hand, his mind wandered to the fact he acted like an idiot with Ana due to his desperation. He hated himself for that.
JJ's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Why so pensive?" she asked, sitting before him. Spencer didn't feel like talking, but it was JJ, his friend. Shifting in his seat, he leaned back, and his arms slumped to his sides.
"My mom,” he prefaced. “Remember the medical trial I mentioned last month?" JJ nodded. "They rejected the application."
An empathetic look formed on JJ’s face after hearing Spencer.
"Oh, Spence. I'm so sorry. When did this happen?" she asked, leaning to talk to Spencer, not speaking too loud.
"Yesterday,” he cringed, remembering his meeting with Fogarty.
"I'm so sorry. But Spencer, I'm sure you'll find another way. If it is not this one, you'll find another," JJ assured him.
Comfort words? Yeah. Spencer appreciated the worry, yet it wasn't handy for his predicament.
"Hope so," Spencer shrugged.
"I know you will," she patted his shoulder. "Hey, changing the subject, we will grab lunch with Luke and Matt now. You coming?"
Spencer checked his watch. He guessed Ana had started her shift by now. Could it be a good idea to show up now? Better sooner than later, he thought.
"I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere else," Spencer apologized, standing and clutching his satchel. If Spencer noticed JJ's frown after his answer, he let it pass. It was better not to give details.
Entering the coffee shop, Spencer first noticed the hustle of lunchtime. Sarah and Ana were moving from side to side, taking orders and carrying trays.
Shit, maybe he picked the wrong moment.
When Ana saw him, a visible huff left her mouth. Spencer tried to approach, but Sarah stopped him.
"Not so fast, pal."
"I'm sorry, but I - I would like to - to have a word with Ana?" Spencer stuttered.
"She is busy. So I am. If you want to order something, take a sit and wait," Sarah pointed to a corner where there was an empty table.
Sarah’s harsh tone told Spencer she knew about the day before, so he didn't push his luck. Nodding, he went to the table and sat. Another girl, Collin, came to take his order. He asked for his usual coffee.
He would wait. It was the least he could do.
As the patrons left the coffee shop one by one, Spencer's eyes focused on the main counter and the kitchen door.
Ana noticed how Spencer didn't move a muscle in the past hour. She tried to avoid looking at him, but since Sarah confirmed he wanted to talk to her, it wasn't easy to forget he was there.
"Maybe he wants to admit he fucked it up," Sarah hypothesized.
"Or maybe he wants to keep being a jackass," Ana pointed. Her coworker raised an eyebrow, thinking about how bad the previous day's encounter must have been to see Ana so defensive.
"You'll never know if you don't talk to him.”
Sarah had a point. Would Ana’s curiosity be stronger enough to give in and talk to Spencer? The answer's ‘yes.’
"Okay, fine. But if the guy insists on acting like a jerk, I’ll kick his ass, and I don't care if the cops come to get me,” Ana warned before walking out of the kitchen.
As she strolled in Spencer's direction, Ana swept her hands over her apron.
Spencer’s eyes widened when he noticed her.
"I thought I let myself very clear yesterday,” she said without prompt.
Spencer gulped and cleared his throat.
"Yes. Yes, you were. In fact, I'm here to apologize. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done what I did. Can I have a word with you to explain myself? I don't want you to think I'm a total asshole, even when I acted like one yesterday. Please?"
The girl narrowed her eyes. Believe him or not?
Even if Ana didn't want to discuss the topic again, she wondered what he could possibly tell her.
"This is not a trick or something? Like a way to insist on your weird petition?"
Spencer shook his head vigorously.
"No! I promise. It's not that. Believe me. I just want to explain.”
Ana considered Spencer’s words for a second.
"Okay. Fine. I have a little break right now. But let's talk outside. I don't want the peanut gallery watching,” she suggested, seeing from the corner of her eye how Collin and Sarah were looking at them.
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
They walked outside and far from the coffee shop windows. The street wasn't busy, so it was a decent spot to talk.
Apologizing for the umpteenth time, Spencer recounted what happened in the meeting with Fogarty and what led to his weird petition. Not in deep detail, but he told enough, so Ana had a picture of why his poor behavior.
"So you thought marrying was a good idea?" Ana asked the man.
"I would say just an idea more than a good one," Spencer pointed, shrugging. Ana chuckled.
"Yeah. You're right."
Spencer felt somewhat relieved for Ana listening to him, and Ana even felt empathy for the guy in front of her.
"Please, can you forgive me? It was totally out of line and - and I feel so embarrassed. I never wanted to offend you.”
Ana kept silent for a moment, pondering Spencer's words. He waited expectantly.
"Supposing you're telling me the truth, I think I could understand,” she decided. Spencer nodded faster enough to converge his following words.
"I do! It's the truth. And I'm so sorry to bring this to you. You have your own problems to deal with.”
Ana cringed at the mention of it.
"Don't remind me, please.”
"I’m so sorry. I didn't -”
Spencer hastened to apologize.
How come he keeps fucking it up?
Ana saw Spencer's terrified look and didn't want him to collapse from the nerves.
"It's okay. Really. In fact, I think it's sweet of you. I mean, what you were willing to do for your mom,” she explained. Spencer exhaled.
"And desperate," he added. Ana chuckled at his own teasing.
"I'm not in a position to judge."
"It's okay; you can say it.”
Spencer’s shoulders slumped, knowing it was true. He was entirely desperate.
"I mean, yeah. It's weird, but if it were about my mom, I would have done anything for her, so I understand,” Ana conceded.
"Really?" Spencer asked in disbelief. Ana nodded solemnly.
"Yeah. Really."
"Thanks, it makes me feel better. For real.”
It was the truth. Knowing the girl felt some empathy for him and was not disgusted made him feel slightly better.
"No problem."
Spencer knew Ana was a good person. If it had been anyone else, he would have gotten his ass kicked, and with good reason. It was a shame she was struggling as well.
Spencer's phone ringtone broke the silence. The caller id showed Penelope's name. Spencer gave Ana an apologetic look.
"Sorry, I have to take this one."
"Don't apologize. Go ahead," she gestured to the device in Spencer's hand.
"Garcia, what's up?"
Ana looked to the side to not snoop on Spencer's call, although she was. Once Spencer finished, she knew what it was about.
"Work?" she asked for confirmation. Spencer nodded.
"Yeah. I have to go. Again, please, forgive my attitude from yesterday. I didn't want to bother you."
"It's okay. I totally get it,” Ana reassured him.
"Thank you. I got to go. See you around?" Spencer asked before leaving.
"You know where to find me," she quipped.
“Yeah. Right. See you then.”
Ana watched as Spencer walked away. She no longer believed he was a complete crackpot. A weird guy? Yes. But she could understand his reasons and even empathize with them.
That night in her bedroom, Ana rescued Spencer's business card from the trash can and put it on her nightstand—a symbolic act of reconciliation with the man.
Things could have stayed there, but Ana was not that lucky. A few days after what happened with Spencer, she came to work her usual shift when her boss approached her.
"Ana, you got this," Logan announced, handing her an envelope with a government stamp.
'Dear Miss Gonzalez,
Hoping this letter finds you well, we inform you that your reconsideration request for your residence application has been rejected. This means you must leave North American soil in the next two weeks unless you submit new information within your petition.'
Suddenly she felt as if the air had become heavy, and she was having trouble breathing. Ana's eyes scanned over and over the letters of the fateful letter. She had been rejected again, and worse yet, she had a deadline to leave the country. She had no further options of appeal. Everything had gone to hell.
"Ana, are you okay?" Logan asked.
She didn't want to explain what was happening, so she nodded, saying everything was fine and that she would get ready to start work.
And so she did, but there was no way she could concentrate. In her head, the only thing spinning was the idea that this was the end. That she had failed, and all was lost.
At the end of the day, Sarah walked over to her, knowing something had happened. That's when Ana broke and ended up crying in her arms.
"Hey, sweetheart. What's wrong? You can tell me," the girl encouraged Ana, who couldn't stop sobbing.
“Me rechazaron de nuevo. Tendré que irme del país (I got rejected again. I'll have to leave)." In her misery, Ana didn't bother to speak in English. That wasn't an issue for Sarah, though. She had been learning Spanish with Ana, and it wasn't difficult to understand why the girl was so upset.
"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry to hear that."
“¿Qué hice para merecer esto? Mis papeles están en regla. Tengo un trabajo. No estoy pidiendo vivir gratis! (What did I do to deserve this? I have everything in order. I have a job. I’m not asking to live here for free!).”
"You have done all good, sweetheart; it is not your fault. It's unfair. Life is unfair."
Ana is not one of those people who like to show their vulnerability. But these circumstances were already overtaking her. Besides, Sarah was the only one who knew more about her coming to North America. Only a few details, but enough to understand this was important to her.
"Come on, let's go to my apartment. I'll make some tea," Sarah offered.
Ana thanked her. She didn't want to be alone in a moment like this.
At Sarah's place, Ana regained some composure. She wasn't crying anymore but left an extreme bitterness.
"Must be something you can do. Are you sure you can't plead again?"
"I can't. At least if my current situation doesn't change. I think I should get used to the idea of leaving," Ana shrugged. Sarah bit her lower lip. She wanted to say something, but maybe Ana won't take it so well.
"What?" she asked. Sarah shook her head. "There is something, Sarah. Just spill it out."
"You still have the pumpkin-pie guy’s offer," she muttered. Ana sighed.
"No. I don't. I told you the guy apologized for it. It would be nonsense of me to say I am interested now," Ana pointed out. That made Sarah raise an eyebrow.
"Does that mean you're interested now?" she asked.
"That's not the point. The poor man was already feeling bad enough when he did apologize," she recounted.
"Well, these are extenuating circumstances. Don't you think?"
Ana thought about it. Why? She was desperate, and she didn't want to leave the country. But what if Spencer rejected her now? He could do that. He had the right to, as she did weeks ago.
That night the poor girl didn't sleep. Holding on to a miracle, she hoped the following day everything would be okay in the blink of an eye.
Spoiler alert: it didn't.
Sighing first, Ana took the card and dialed Spencer's number.
"Spencer? Hey, it's Ana from the coffee shop. I'm sorry for calling, but can you talk?"
Spencer was surprised when he got the call and was deeply curious about what she wanted to talk about.
The girl sounded distressed, and even he could tell she was crying, but he didn't want to ask so as not to make her uncomfortable. Both agreed to meet in a park near the coffee shop that afternoon. Fortunately, Spencer wasn't called on a case so that he could meet up with her after work.
When Spencer arrived at the place they agreed, he spotted Ana sitting on a bench, her eyes staring at the dirty floor. He couldn't help but wonder how a young girl, so beautiful and with such a good heart, could have such a troubled life. Yes, maybe he didn't know her well enough, but years doing his job have taught him a lot about how invisible the weight people usually carry on their shoulders can seem to the world.
He was sure Ana was one of those people with a crude past, but even with that, her smile never faded.
"Hi, I hope I'm not too late," Spencer apologized. Hearing his voice, Ana tilted her head to look at him and smiled. But it was a different smile: a weary one with sadness in her eyes.
"No, you're perfectly on time. Sorry for calling you so suddenly."
"Don't worry about that. Can I sit there," Spencer asked, pointing to the empty spot on the bench.
"Sure. Of course," Ana conceded. Spencer sat with his hands on his lap, shifting awkwardly when Ana didn't start the conversation.
The girl knew she needed to say something, but words were stuck in her throat. Spencer noticed but didn't want to push. Analyzing her micro-expressions, he could tell she was scared and conflicted. Spencer had a feeling about what was going on.
"Well. I'm sure you're waiting for me to tell you why I called you. It's uhm - I don't know how to phrase it. I feel a little hypocritical, if I have to be honest. I mean, yeah, it's kind of embarrassing. Jeez, I don't even know how to explain myself," she let out a nervous chuckle.
Spencer's expression was soft and attentive. He kept his mouth shut, giving Ana all the needed time, but the girl freaked out and decided to give up.
"It's uhm - you know? I'm sorry for making you come. Maybe I shouldn't have," Ana hastened to say, standing from the bench. She was losing her nerve and just wanted to run away.
Spencer stood too, his profiling skills paying off to this point.
Before Ana could walk away, Spencer spoke.
"You got rejected," he inferred.
Ana halted but didn't dare to turn to see him. But she nodded nonetheless.
"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled.
"Yeah, me too," she sighed, feeling the tears pricking her eyes.
Spencer positioned in front of her. Ana didn't walk away though she didn't make eye contact with him.
"You know? I really thought it would work this time. Even I was looking for an apartment, making plans," Ana lamented with a notorious heaviness in her words.
Tentatively her gaze found his. Spencer caught sight of the tears pouring from her eyes. It pained him, and he didn't know what to do, even if it wasn't his fault.
"I'm so sorry. It's unfair," he muttered with an apologetic look.
What else could he say? What else without addressing the clear reason that made Ana call him?
"Yeah. I think so too. But it is what it is. Right? Life is unfair," Ana concluded, wiping the tears with her thumbs. "I'm sorry I made you come here for this. I - uh - I don't know what I was thinking," she mumbled, averting his gaze.
Spencer sighed. He did know what she was thinking.
"You were considering my crazy offer. Am I right?" Spencer pointed, gauging Ana's reaction.
She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing a hole in the floor could swallow her whole.
"I told you it was hypocritical from me," she admitted. Spencer shook his head.
"I don't think it is. I know it's a crazy idea, but you have your reasons to consider it, and I'm not going to judge you. No, when it was me who suggested it in the first place," Spencer told Ana, tilting his head to catch her gaze.
"It's more than a crazy idea. It's delusional. But I can't stop thinking about it as my last chance," Ana confessed.
Which was true. Since she got the letter and Sarah brought it, Ana hadn't stopped thinking it might be her only option. Maybe Spencer's offer was some kind of sign about what she needed to do.
"I'm not the best person advising on this matter, so I'll just say my offer still stands," the man pointed. Ana's eyes widened.
"What? Even after I mistreated you for suggesting it?"
Spencer nodded.
"Yes. Because it was reasonable for you to do it, and I think even so, we deserve a chance to get what we both want," Spencer said.
'What we both want.' Ana knew Spencer had a point. It was something beneficial for both of them. Besides, the guy didn't look like a bad person, if not someone as desperate as her. The more she thought about it, the less absurd it seemed.
"You really think this would work? For both of us?"
Ana no longer felt defensive about the topic. Now she was looking for the confirmation she needed to make a final decision instead.
"Yes. You need it. I need it. I can help you, and you can help me. It's uh - an agreement between two grown-up people."
Although Spencer seemed like he was saying these words to convince Ana, in the end, he was telling them to convince himself of his own offer.
"Yeah. An agreement between two grown-up people," she repeated. Spencer could see the gears running inside her head. It was a giant leap, but Ana told herself not back down this time.
"Alright. This being so, then I will do it. I'll marry you so you can get the spot for your mom, and I can get my green card."
Ana held out her hand to seal the deal. Spencer nodded, smiling, and reached to shake her hand.
The pact was sealed.
Both Spencer and Ana should have been relieved after the agreement. And they were, in part. But this could be more complicated than they expected it to be. They hoped not, though.
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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year
Text
How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst pt. 2
In which Y/N still thinks her dad doesn’t know about her and Spencer’s relationship. Rossi sets his daughter up on a date at his book signing party….
Warnings: semi-smutty scenes, cursing, you’ll probably get second hand embarrassment, Fluff, cute/horny/loveydovey!Spencer, JEALOUS!SPENCER
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
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“Do you think we have too much sex?”
This question caught Spencer off guard seeing as they were literally in the middle of having sex. He paused his movements and looked at her. “Uhhhh no?” He shook his head. “Do you?”
Y/N quirked an eyebrow. “No. But I’m just trying to figure out the societally acceptable amount of sex to be having.”
With this Spencer busted out laughing. “Do you think we have over the societally acceptable amount?”
She shrugged, smiling up at him. “I mean we have sex a lot but I don’t think too much.”
Spencer chuckled. “Where did this come from?”
Y/N wiggled her hips as Spencer continued his movements, pushing into her over and over again. “Oh fu— it’s just my next door neighbor has like a lot of sex— all the time and it’s loud.” She nodded, moaning in between her words. “Like I was up until four am one night because she was moaning like a fuckin’ diseased cat.”
“How come I’ve never heard her?” He asked, groaning loudly.
Y/N titled head. “Oh so you want to hear her moan?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.
“What— no!” Spencer exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes laughing. “Kidding!” She hit his shoulder.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
The next day, Y/N was at her dad’s house baking a bunch of desserts for his book signing party the next day.
“Dad, how many mini strawberry shortcakes did you need?” She asked as he walked into the kitchen.
“Um… 10, i think.” He nodded. “Y/N/N, sweetheart can I ask you a question?” He asked.
She cleared her throat. “Sure.” She smiled, wiping the flower off of her forehead.
“Are you seeing anyone?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. She froze for a millisecond.
She remembered the text Spencer had sent her two weeks before at the dinner party her father held.
How to lie to a behavior analyst: Don’t maintain excessive eye contact, keep your voice even, say my name if you refer to me, don’t fidget— I love you
She licked her lips and glanced at him before busying her hands with mixing the cake batter together. “No, why?” She asked, her voice calm.
He shrugged and leaned on the kitchen island. She didn’t turn back to look at him. “Oh, good.” He smiled. “I have this friend and he has a son. I wanted you guys to meet.”
Y/N swallowed hard and let out a quiet scoff. “Really?” She shook her head, turning around and smiling. “You’re trying to set me up now?”
Rossi shrugged. “I just noticed that you haven’t been in a relationship in a while and I think you would love Benjamin Fitz.”
“Your friends with Eric Fitz and his son?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Eric Fitz was a very… controversial news paper company man. Her shoulders tensed.
“Yes. He always made me look good in the paper.” Rossi joked, strolling over to his daughters side. “So, what do you say? Will you meet Benny?”
If I say no, he’ll definitely catch on.
Y/N smiled tightly and inhaled through her nose. “I-of course! It’s not like I’m seeing anyone so, it should be fun!” She said, internally scolding herself for speaking so fast.
Rossi nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll let Eric know.”
Spencer is gonna fuckin’ kill me
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N shivered as Spencer’s finger tips lightly glided across her back. They were laying in bed just soaking up each other’s company. She had been holding back the fact that she was set up on a date by her father since she saw him.
She could tell Spencer was about to fall asleep because his fingers started to move slower and slowly. “Hey, Spence?” She spoke quietly.
He inhaled deeply, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah, baby?”
“Uh…” She bit her lip. “So… I um… my dad— he set me up on a date tomorrow night at his book signing party.”
Spencer’s eyes got wide. “What!?”
The woman sighed and sat up, straddling his thighs. “I— my dad asked me if I was seeing anyone and I told him no because then he would find out about us and then he asked me if he could set me up with his friend’s son and I said yes because I thought it would seem like I was seeing someone even though I just told him that I wasn’t.” She spoke very quickly and Spencer found it hard to keep with her words but he got the gist.
“So you’re going on a date with someone else?” He asked, his eyes dropped down.
Y/N tilted her head and she bit her lip. “Aw Spence, no— well yes but no.” She shook her head. “It might be a date for him but it won’t be a date for me. It’s gonna be torture.” She placed her hands on his cheeks. “I’m gonna hate every second of it because I won’t be with you, okay?”
Spencer nodded. “W-well… what are you gonna wear?” He asked, his eyes avoiding hers.
Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. “I will literally show up in sweatpants if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
He pouted a little bit. “You look really sexy in sweatpants.” Y/N giggled quietly.
“I’ll wear a trash bag— a potato sack! Anything you want me to wear, I’ll wear it.” She nodded.
Spencer smiled, his pouty lips fading away. “I want you to wear…” He thought for a minute. “That pretty white dress that I like on you.”
She quirked a brow. “But you said I look sexy in that one.” She traced circles on his chest.
Spencer leaned forward and kissed her. “I want him to see how sexy you look and I want him to know that he can’t have you.” He whispered. A breath left her lips and she smiled.
She was about to lean in and kiss him again but the ‘diseased cat’ who she shared a wall wit started making noises.
Y/N gasped and slapped Spencer’s chest. “Oh my god! Do you hear!?”
Spencer stopped and listened for a moment before laughing. “Holy shit, why does she sound like that?” He asked through his laughter.
Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes. “We’re never gonna be able to sleep now!” She shouted, doubting that cat lady could hear it over her dramatic moans.
Spencer pulled her closer with a smirk. “We’ll just have to show her what pretty noises sound like.”
“Oh my god, please make me scream.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N nervously looked around as she clutched her bag in her hands. She stood by her dad’s signing table. He wasn’t there, he was making rounds but she stood there in her tight white dress, waiting for him to show up with her ‘date’. She rolled her eyes even thinking about it.
Soon, her father and a tall blonde man emerged from the crowd of people and headed towards the table.
The first think she noticed about Benjamin Fitz was that he looked her up and down unashamed.
She gave a fake smile to her father and a head nod to Benjamin. “Bella, you look lovely.” Rossi smiled, hugging his daughter and kissing her on both cheeks.
“This is an amazing turn out, daddy.” She smiled, kissing his cheek. They stood in the rental area of a very fancy wine and dine restaurant. She looked at the blonde man next to her father. “You must be Benjamin. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled, holding out her hand.
“Please, call me Ben.” He winked and instead of shaking her hand, he pulled her in for a hug. His hands landed on her waist and her eyes widened, pulling away quickly as she laughed it off. “And your Y/N?”
She nodded, glancing at her father who had squinted eyes, observing the two. “Y-yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She said again, looking back at him. She had to admit, he wasn’t ugly.
“You as well, sweetheart.”
Y/N blew air past her lips and she looked around. Rossi cleared his throat. “Oh, I see one of my friends.” He smiled, glancing between his daughter and Ben. “I’ve got to make rounds. Have fun you two.”
“Thanks, dad.” She gritted her teeth as he walked away.
Ben looked at her. “Where do they keep the booze?”
Be fucking for real.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N had been leaning against the wall listening to Ben talk about being a Lacrosse star in high school and college. She nodded along but she wasn’t really listening.
Suddenly, she saw a very familiar face over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she almost choked on the champagne she was chugging.
“Uh, sorry to stop you there Ben but uh… could you give me a minute?” She asked. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she pushed off of the wall and walked around him.
Her boyfriend stood in the middle of the room with a book in his hand and a very sexy suit. He looked at her and smiled. “Spencer, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked, looking around to make sure that her father wasn’t there and watching them.
He smiled. “I just so happen to have a book that Rossi hasn’t signed.” He shrugged.
“Oh, really?” She asked, a smile forming on her lips. “That’s the only reason you’re here?”
“Mhm.”
She squinted her eyes. “Not because you want to spy on Ben and I?”
Spencer blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes. “Please. Me? Spying? Nooooo.” Y/N raised her eyebrows.
“Okay.” She nodded. “Well, I gotta get back to my date so… I’ll see you later.” She winked.
She walked back over to Ben, swaying her hips for Spencer to look at. “Who was that?” The blonde asked.
Y/N sighed. “Oh, just one of my dad’s coworkers.” She shrugged.
Ben scoffed. “That twig is an FBI agent? He’s too tiny.” Y/N raised her eyebrows.
That twig’s dick Is most definitely not tiny.
She let out a fake giggle and waved his joke off. “More champagne?” She asked, nodding her head towards the catering woman who walked around with a tray.
“More? Really?” Ben asked. “You must be trying to get me drunk so you can take me home.” He laughed.
Y/N’s tongue slid across her teeth. “Yeah, most definitely not.” She shook her head. The woman walked by her and she snatched a glass off of the tray.
Spencer clenched his jaw as he watched Ben stare at his girlfriend like some porn actress.
I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill hi—
“Reid! You made it!”
He snapped out of his jealous daze and looked down at Rossi. “Yes, I did.” He nodded.
Rossi held up his pen and his free hand. Spencer opened the book to the front page and held it up for him. He sighed the book quickly.
Spencer sighed before speaking. “If you knew Y/N and I are together then why did you set her up with him?” He asked, heavily annoyed.
He hummed. “I wanted to see how much she cared.”
Spencer squinted her eyes. “What do you mean?”
The man smiled. “I wanted to see if she cared enough about you and your relationship by going out with possibly the biggest pig in the city to to make sure that I didn’t find out about it. I wanted to see if she cared enough to keep you safe.”
Spencer let the corners of his mouth turn up. “Rossi, I love your daughter.” He spoke.
“And she loves you, kid. I Can tell.”
He sighed. “Thank you for not telling her. I don’t want her to be upset or nervous.”
Rossi nodded. “Anything to make my girl happy.” He sighed, watching her roll her eyes as she drank more champagne. “I’ve got more signings to do. See ya, kid.”
He nodded as he walked away, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he saw Ben reach to push her hair behind her ear. She moved away smoothly, playing it off like she had to cough. She kept trying to glance at Spencer without actually turning around.
To: Kool-Aid girl 💘
Meet me in the bathroom in five?
She looked around and saw him before looking back at Ben when she felt her phone buzz. “Sorry, about this.” She shook her head as she dug through her bag for her phone.
From: Kool-Aid girl 💘
Of fucking course
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Their lips were heavy on each other’s. Her legs were wrapped around his waist while she was sitting on the counter.
She moaned so quietly as he thrusted his fingers in and out of her. Her hands grabbed at whatever they could. Her eyes never left his though. That was the one thing he wanted.
“Fuck, Spence—“ Her eyes watered at the immense amount of pleasure she was experiencing.
“This is mine— no one else’s.” He grunted. Y/N nodded and bit her lip. “Are you close baby?”
“So fucking close.” She nodded. “You’re- fuck— the only one that gets me there.” She added because 1, it was true and 2, she knew he was feeling a little insecure because of Ben.
Soon, she came on his fingers and shut her eyes, panting. She didn’t have to worry about getting her dress wet because Spencer had pulled it up as soon as they got in there.
Knock knock knock
“Hey is someone in there.”
Y/N’s eyes widened as she and Spencer recognized the voice. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Uh— it’s just me, dad.” She said, sliding off of the counter making sure that he heels hit the ground silently.
“What are you doing in the men’s restroom and why is the door locked? There’s like forty stall in there.”’
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She whispered. “Uh, I had a woman emergency and someone was in the other restroom.” She nodded her head at Spencer towards the door at the other end of the room. She had no idea what it led to but oh what the hell, right?
Spencer started walking silently towards it as she pulled her dress back down to where it was supposed to be.
She watched him walk through the door and disappear and sighed. She unlocked the bathroom door and smiled at her dad. “Hi, daddy. Sorry.” She mumbled, walking past him.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Now, Spencer and Y/N laid together in his bed. They were just in each other’s company. Again, his fingers were drawing random patterns on her back as she dozed off.
“Hey, Y/N? Before you go to sleep…” He spoke quietly not to startle her. She hummed and nuzzled her face into his chest.
“Thank you for caring.”
She smiled and squeezed him. “I love you. I will always care.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Holaaaaaaaa
I love this. Thanks to everyone who loved the first one so much!!!!!
You guys are amazing and I wanna kiss all of you.
Also ask me questions in my ask box!! I would love to answer them :))))
Anywaysssssssssss love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️
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incognit0slut · 1 year
Text
Right Kind of Wrong (2)
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She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
Part Summary: Spencer’s late-night endeavor is teased as a new case arises. wc: 2.8k
Warnings: 18+ content, graphic detail of murder
A/n: thank you for all the love it’s very much appreciated! also i want to remind you that this will be a long series, but if you like a murder mystery with a hint of humor and smut, then by all means please continue :3
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
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BEING CALLED IN AT NIGHT WAS SOMETHING SPENCER WAS USED TO. It was part of his job. The moment he accepted to be part of the Behavior Analysis Unit at Quantico, he knew the downside of it all. The long hours and pressure to perform the job while working with some of the most dangerous and violent individuals could potentially affect him physically and mentally.
But above all that, he always looked at the bigger picture. His job was to bring justice by catching all the perpetrators of each crime he was assigned with. It was a very dangerous job yet he couldn't imagine his life without lending in his time and intelligence to catch the 'bad guys on the loose'—as Garcia would often put it. So having his dearest friend call him at two o'clock in the morning was something that occasionally occurred. He really didn't mind it.
Until tonight.
For the first time in his eleven years working as an FBI agent, Spencer wished the bad news could wait at least in the morning. By then he would have more time to spend his night with the most irresistible woman he had ever laid his eyes on.
He shook his head. Guilt was a complex, powerful emotion and it was what he was feeling right now. A dead body was found and all he could think about was the beautiful stranger who was now more than an enigma than she ever was. Even when he had seen her in her barest form, tucked underneath his warm body. Even when his hands had roamed around every corner of her luscious curves, her desperate moan sounded like the most beautiful melody to his ears.
God, he needed a drink. No, not alcohol, he wasn't one to drink liquor anyway. Well, excluding a few hours ago when sitting all alone waiting for his friends without holding any type of alcoholic drink seemed rather uncommon. He was already feeling out of place the moment he entered the dimly lit bar, his eyes scanning for any familiar faces but being greeted by none.
So ordering a bottle of cold beer seemed ideal as he sat by the bar on his own. He didn't even drink the whole liquid, merely gulping a sip or two before it became a mere prop for blending in with the crowd.
If it wasn’t for Garcia coaxing him into joining her and the girls for a night out in the city, Spencer would still be at the office, his nose buried in the paperwork he needed to finish. But Penelope Garcia was a force not to be underrated. She had a way with words and persuasion, thus Spencer found himself agreeing to spend the night with his peers.
Besides, he enjoyed being around them. He considered the people he worked with as more than mere colleagues. He had spent so much time with them that the bond developed was incredibly special and strong. He considered them as a sort of dysfunctional family in some ways, but it was a family nonetheless. It was a very unique relationship and a special one that he took pride in working with and he was very grateful to be a part of it.
But it didn't stop him from being mad at the fact they had bailed on him at the very last minute.
Fine—a little bit mad. They all seemed to have good excuses for their sudden absence. JJ had to drive back home for her sick son, Prentiss was called back into the office by their unit chief Hotch, and Garcia... well, her answer was pretty vague. All she had said over her frantic call was, "I'm so sorry, boy genius, I need to take a rain check tonight. I'll call you later!"
Then Spencer found himself in a situation he would never imagine being, sitting by himself at the most sociable place he could ever think of.
He needed to leave. The music bouncing over the stereo suddenly sounded too loud, and even though there weren't too many people inside the place, it was still enough to make his demeanor shut down from the several conversations floating in the air.
And don't get him started on the number of pathogens clinging to every nook and corner of this place. He shuddered at that thought as he once again wiped down the bar surface with another pile of napkins he requested from the bartender, who by the looks of it, was starting to eye him with annoyance.
A man suddenly pushed him from behind and went on his way without apologizing. Spencer made a mental note to never agree to another social request without a companion at his arrival. He was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.
His fingers hastily tightened around the strap of his bag, ready to flee the scene when a sudden faint scent of chocolate fluttered through his nose.
Delicious, mouth-watering chocolate.
Spencer had always been conscious of his surroundings. The nerves in his brain would work their way into absorbing all kinds of entities that triggered his senses, and chocolate was a scent he could easily make out.
Chocolate smelled like... well, heaven. It had a sweet, decadent scent that was just divine, triggering all sorts of happy, positive emotions and reactions. He could point out a lot of facts about why roasted cocoa could trigger serotonin throughout one's body, but his brain was too busy trying to pinpoint the source of its scent.
Then he felt movement to his right and the scent lingered around the air like a delicious blanket coating his senses. And there she was—looking divinely gorgeous like heaven on a pair of legs.
Spencer knew there was no singular answer to describe one's beauty, as beauty was subjective and could be defined differently by each person. He also considered himself being very old-school as he perceived beauty through kindness and intelligence. Yet he was still a hot-blooded man and he wasn't going to lie; the woman sitting in front of him was physically attractive and pleasing to the eye.
The way her eyes lit up as they settled on him tightened the knot in his stomach. He might not have much experience with the opposite sex, but he knew when one was interested in his presence, and with that thought in mind he felt rather pleased and flattered.
His eyes roamed around her features; her glazed eyes, her high cheekbones, the delicate shape of her nose, and her plump lips that seemed to look so soft. It wasn't until later in the night he came to the conclusion that they were much softer than they looked. Because tasting her mouth was completely different than simply staring at it.
Spencer didn't know how touch-starved he was until he pressed his lips onto hers, lips that were incredibly soft yet turned every inch of his body very hard. He felt immensely dizzy with need as he nipped her bottom lip, feeling intoxicated each time she squirmed in his arms, her soft body pressing against him, making it more and more difficult to clear his mind with her hands between his legs—
"Late night?"
Spencer looked up. He could feel the blush creeping along his cheeks as if being caught having these inappropriate thoughts. Derek Morgan stood by his side, eying the amount of sugar stashed into the cup of coffee in his hand. To be fair, he really did need something that could wake him up and break him from going down memory lane again.
"Very," he murmured. He proceeded by mixing his caffeine with a spoon, unaware of how Morgan was watching him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"My man," Morgan teased. Spencer sensed the taunting edge in his voice and turned around.
On a normal occasion, he would deny the suggestive tone Morgan would often taunt. His friend had a way of teasing him in what seemed to be simply goodhearted banter. But Spencer wasn't exactly a good liar. He was already quite flustered by the topic of conversation and the moment he opened his mouth, he knew he would only make things worse.
So instead he kept his silence and sipped on his drink, ignoring the grin plastered on Morgan's face as if an epiphany had aroused him in his wake.
"My man," Morgan repeated, wrapping a playful arm around his shoulders. "What has kept the young Dr. Reid awake on this lovely night?"
He shoved his arm away. "I wouldn't consider myself youthful anymore."
Morgan snickered. "You're the baby of the team." Then to annoy him even further, he added, “Kid.”
"I'm thirty-six." Spencer frowned as they climbed their way toward the conference room. "You know, men in their mid-thirties have prefrontal cortexes that are fully developed and they have a lot more experience throughout their lives. Their body is also fully functional so they—I am most definitely a mature, fully grown adult."
"Do you know what else they say about men being in their thirties?" Morgan threw him another one of his grins. "A very high sex drive."
"Actually, studies show that 30% of healthy people aged between 65-74 still enjoy sexual intercourse weekly."
Morgan groaned. "Don't give me that mental image."
"Reid!"
The two men turned to see Garcia scurrying towards them. How she still conjured so much energy at this time of hour would always be a mystery to him. The determined look on her face reminded him of their last conversation on the phone and Spencer quickly turned away, walking into the empty conference room before sitting himself by the round table.
Noticing the weird interaction between his two friends, Morgan threw Garcia a questioning look. "What's going on?"
"Oh, I'll tell you what's going on." She hurriedly entered the room and grabbed the remote control sitting in the middle of the table. She poked Spencer with the device. "This boy right here decided he's too cool to hang out with us."
"Garcia, you're the one who bailed on me."
"So not the point," she deadpanned. "My question is, when are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend? I didn't even know you were dating."
Morgan's brows shot up as he took a seat beside him. "Girlfriend?"
Spencer looked down as she went on, "Imagine my surprise when he answered my call and there was a woman's voice in the background. At this hour."
Morgan laughed at her emphasis on the time because it was common knowledge only certain things happen this late. Especially with an alleged female company. "Really?"
Disliking the way he was thrown into the spotlight, Spencer leaned in his chair and crossed his arms defensively. "She's not my girlfriend."
That statement only raised their interest even further.
"Oh?" That was Morgan.
"You naughty minx." That was Garcia. "Since when have you been seeing her?"
Spencer had two options. He could ignore their curiosity and remain silent, or he could flat-out give them a lie. He looked between the interest on their face and decided he couldn't escape their probing curiosity, so he answered in a very low voice, "Tonight."
"Tonight?" Garcia asked in disbelief. "Wait—didn't you go to the bar earlier?"
"Yes, before everyone ditched me."
"Oh my god," Garcia squealed in surprise. "Dr. Reid, did you spend the night with a stranger?"
There was a long pause as the grip around his mug tightened. Morgan let out a choked laugh. "My man."
"Stop saying that," Spencer muttered, his lips inches away from his steaming cup.
"I can't believe this," Garcia gasped between her giggles, clearly fascinated by this new information. "Our resident boy genius is actually a Casanova in disguise."
"Who's a Casanova?"
The three of them turned to see Emily Prentiss walking into the room followed by a very curious David Rossi. His other colleagues clearly didn't hear the beginning half of their conversation and Spencer wanted to make sure it remained that way.
He casually took a sip of his drink and replied, "Giacomo Casanova. A famous Italian adventurer and author in the 18th century. He became famous for his often complicated and elaborate affairs with women."
Prentiss scoffed as she and Rossi sat down by the table. "I know who Casanova is, I'm asking who is a Casanova."
An awkward silence settled in the room. Spencer shifted in his seat. He really, really didn't want to deal with this. Spending a very intimate night with a stranger wasn't something he would like to discuss in front of his peers. Ever.
He could feel the heavy weight of everyone's eyes and the blush slowly creeping along his cheeks when Derek stepped in, giving the room one of his charming smiles. "We were talking about me."
"You?" Prentiss quirked one of her eyebrows in mocked surprise. "I don't think your girlfriend would be happy with that."
Morgan easily laughed. "We were discussing my old Casanova days."
"Yeah," Garcia interjected. "We were talking about how bad his choices of female friends were."
"Hey!"
"Until now." She gave him a toothy grin. "We love Savannah."
Morgan rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He caught Spencer staring at him with a grateful smile and returned the gesture with an understanding nod. Spencer relaxed as the conversation rolled by and the topic of his secret escapade was long forgotten.
For now.
JJ, another member of the team, entered the room a few minutes later with a huge smile. Then the moment their unit chief, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, followed behind, everyone knew it was back to business.
Spencer placed his mug down on the table and focused his attention on the case at hand.
"Alright, so." Garcia pointed the remote towards the black screen and a moment later, gruesome pictures of a murder scene were presented in different angles. The picture of the male body covered in blood greeted them before a passport shot of a middle-aged man smiling happily at the camera was shown. "Fifty-six-year-old Kevin Marshall, a corporate lawyer, was found dead at his home by his secretary."
"At home?" Derek wondered. "Were there no security?"
"There was a sudden blackout going on in the neighborhood for about seven minutes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at that time of hour. His wife and kids were visiting her parents and Mr. Marshall was at home finishing some work. It wasn't later on when he didn't answer his calls that his secretary found him lying in his office with several stab wounds."
"Time of death?" JJ questioned.
"A quarter past midnight." Garcia clicked on her device before another detailed picture of the scene was zoomed in on the screen. "And this was found—no, carved on his back."
The picture had a clear shot of the wound on the victim's back, a sloppy carved-out handwriting slashed across his skin. Spencer narrowed his eyes. "Exodus 20:13," he read, his brain already discerning the meaning of the words. "Thou shalt not kill."
"Quite ironic, don't you think? Given the way the Unsub just brutally acted out his assault," Prentiss wondered out loud.
"The verse might actually tie with the murder into this god-given right for someone to bear arms. The Unsub probably feels justified in murdering the victim because he feels that this man is a sinner, thus he must kill him in the name of the Almighty."
"So, what? Are we looking for a religious vigilante?"
"That's what we're trying to find out." Hotch looked over his team and assigned everyone their work. "Since the crime scene is a mere hour away, Morgan can investigate the crime scene with JJ. Reid, go with Rossi to check the autopsy report. Prentiss and I will be here for his family as they're flying straight from Michigan."
"What can I do to help, sir?"
Hotch gave Garcia a pointed look. "Find everything you can on Kevin Marshall. Bank accounts, purchase records, extended family, and also the people he worked with. Report to me when you find something suspicious. Anything."
"Right." She nodded. "Anything."
"And find any possible matches from old cases that have anything to do with carving on body parts. Solved or unsolved."
"Carving on body parts. Got it."
Everyone started scattering around the room, ready to start the investigation. And although his mind somehow drifted back to soft lips and the scent of sweet chocolate, Spencer pushed them away, gulping the last drip of the sweetest coffee he had ever made as if he was draining down all these inappropriate images running through his mind.
It was not the time.
>> NEXT PART
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wrenreid · 1 year
Note
Do you take requests? I had a prompt to send in, but I wasn’t sure. I saw a fic for another fandom where the guy was having wet dreams in bed with y/n female reader and I thought it would be a great smut Spencer friends-to-lovers story. ❤️
Wildest Dreams
I haven’t before, but I’d love to take requests! Thank you:)
synopsis: Spencer Reid has a wet dream about his good friend and coworker. He’s highly embarrassed from where his unconscious mind wandered, so he avoids her. That is until she forces him to tell her what happened. When he does, her reaction is not what he expected. Had to add some angst because it’s who I am. Hope you like this! i hate my smut
content: 18+ MDNI, oral (m and f receiving), penetration
The team piles onto the jet after a long case. All of your faces read tired, especially Spencer’s. He plops down on the couch, something he has practically claimed as his own.
“Mind if I join you?” You ask him. “Can’t sleep on the seats.”
He scoots over, allowing space for you. Gratefully you sit down next to him, leaning your body the opposite way of his onto the arm of the couch.
Both of you are dead asleep within twenty minutes, which is highly unusual given your records of mild insomnia.
The two of you sleeping in such close proximity isn’t strange at all like one might think. You’ve been friends since you joined the BAU two years ago.
You started out as an assistant of sorts. You were still in the academy, but you were given the opportunity to work on real cases, just not in the field.
Spencer and you clicked that week since he was the only agent, other than the talented Penny Garcia, that you spent the most time with. He was off the field due to his injury from getting shot in the leg.
Watching his mind work was fascinating. It seemed like he knew everything, and honestly he kind of does. He taught you a lot that week, showing you how to apply all of the psychology and people-reading you’d learned in the academy. Being in the BAU with him was more beneficial than your classes at the academy.
You’re woken up to the sound of your own name. It’s coming from Spencer’s lips. He’s still asleep. You wake him up, worried he’s having another nightmare.
“Reid,” you say softly to not wake up the others. “Spencer. Hey, I’m right here.”
He stirs awake from your gentle shaking, his face beat red. “Y/n?” He sounds like he’s still partially asleep.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, voice still in a whisper. “Did you have another bad dream?”
Spencer shakes his head. Then he nods. He seems confused. Embarrassed.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t real,” you comfort him, patting his knee gently.
He pulls the blanket over his lap more, causing you to move your hand. “I know,” he sighs, nodding.
“We should be landing soon,” you say. “Maybe you’ll get better rest at home.”
Spencer shrugs slightly and turns his face away from you. You don’t take it to heart. You know how these dreams can be for him. Real. Terrifying. You know because you have them too.
When the plane touches ground and comes to a stop, all of you get off the plane gratefully. It’s late. Nearly 2 in the morning. Hotch tells everyone to get home safely.
“Do you want a ride?” You ask Spencer once both of you have your bags situated.
“I’ll just get a cab,” he tells you quickly.
“Really, it’s no problem,” you say, “It’s late.”
“It’s fine, Y/n.”
His voice has been clipped and distant for the last half hour. Why is he acting this way? It couldn’t have been something you did because you don’t remember doing anything.
Instead of fighting him on whatever it is that’s up his ass right now, you nod and walk to your car.
The two of you take turns driving sometimes. It saves gas money and allows you company on the 40ish minute drive from your neighborhood in D.C. to Quantico. You don’t live too far away from each other, only an 11 minute drive. It would’ve been no problem to take him home. But he opted for alone time. You guess you can’t blame him.
“Are you going out with us tonight?” You question your friend, rolling your chair to his desk.
“I don’t think so,” Spencer answers quickly.
“Why not? We haven’t had a team outing in ages. Let loose, Reid.”
“Y/n,” he warns.
“Fine,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “Movie night then?”
“Movie night?”
“Yeah. Just you and me. That new horror movie is on HBO now,” you wiggle your eyebrows, knowing his love for horror can persuade him.
“I don’t know,” Spencer says, pressing his lips together. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You don’t think what’s a good idea?” Your eyebrows raise.
The two of you have had movie nights multiple times in your two year friendship friendship.
“Just leave it alone, okay?” Spencer says, shrugging you off.
You don’t want to make a scene at work, so you roll your way back to your own desk and continue the paperwork from the last case.
Spencer has never acted this way toward you. Sure, he’s been secluded and reserved, but he’s never been one to shrug you off, to push you away.
Something is up. Something has made him close himself off. He can’t keep shutting you out like this, not without telling you why.
So after work, you try to catch him before he leaves. Unfortunately, Morgan decides to tell you and Emily a story, and Spencer slips out of the bullpen while you listen.
You’re a confrontational person. And your closest friend is avoiding you. This means one thing. You force him to tell you what’s up.
You knock on his door, not too loudly. He opens it after a few seconds.
“Y/n, what are you-?” He starts.
“What did I do?”
“What?” He huffs softly.
You fold your arms, standing in front of him with a serious face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. I don’t know why, so tell me. What did I do to make you mad at me?”
Spencer’s face softens. “I’m not mad you.”
“Then why are you being so short with me? Why are you avoiding me? You’ve been a little bit of a dick.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” he says then pauses. “Okay, I’ve been avoiding you. But I’m done now. You’re right, it’s dickish.”
It’s always a little funny when Spencer curses. It never sounds natural.
“Why though?” You stay stern, needing to know what’s up with him.
“Come in,” he motions his head toward his living room.
You oblige, making your way to his couch. He sits beside you. You’ve been on this couch a thousand times together.
“So?” You question.
“You’re really going to make me say it?”
“Yes, I am,” you tell him.
Spencer sighs. “When we were on the couch the other night on the jet, I had a dream…”
“Yeah, I know that,” you say.
“It was about you.”
“Did something bad happen?”
He shakes his head. “Well, it depends on what you think is bad. We were in bed together.”
A laugh bursts through you. “Wait, you’ve been avoiding me because you had a wet dream about me?”
“Don’t call it that,” he groans.
“That’s what it is!” You chuckle, a big grin on your face. “That’s no big deal, Spence. It happens to people all the time. You have no control over what your unconscious mind conjures up.”
“So you’ve had one?” He asks.
“No.”
The blood has rushed to his cheeks deeply. He’s embarrassed.
“I haven’t thought about you like that in my sleep,” you tell him. “But perhaps I have while awake.”
Spencer lifts his head off the back of the couch. His eyebrows are furrowed. “What?”
It’s your turn to blush. “Yeah. I mean, the thought has occurred a few times.”
“I don’t quite know how to respond to that,” he presses his lips together.
It’s cute when he does that. It’s nerdy and shy.
“You don’t have to,” you say softly. “I just wanted you to know you’re not in the wrong for having a dream about me.”
The two of you have absentmindedly inched closer to each other. Your hand rests on his leg.
“Are you about to kiss me?” You ask, looking into his brown eyes.
“Only if you want me to,” he says.
“Show me what we did in your dream,” you whisper in his ear.
What happens next is not something you ever thought you and Spencer would do. You weren’t lying when you said you’ve thought about it, but you never thought he would’ve felt the same.
Your lips make contact softly at first, but his neediness takes over and his mouth dominates yours.
You always thought Spencer would be more of a gentle lover, but it turns out he’s an all consuming powerhouse.
He pulls you onto his lap, his hands squeezing your thighs and ass. He’s grown into himself well in the past year, and he’s definitely gotten more confident. You like this side of Spencer. A lot.
He tells you to lift your arms up, and you obey the order, eager for him to do more. Your shirt comes off quickly and his hands leave your ass and grab your tits. He’s not too rough, but he’s definitely not gentle.
You smile down at him before connecting your lips to his neck, careful to leave your marks in places he could easily hide under his clothes.
“Was I on top or bottom in your dream?” You ask, voice low and raspy.
“Both,” he answers, fingers working on the buttons of your pants.
You slide off of him and shimmy out of your work pants. You stand before him in mix matched underwear. He doesn’t care that they’re different colors. He wants them gone.
He lifts his shirt above his head and tosses it to the ground. “We should take this to my room. There’s not much space on the couch.”
“Yes sir. Or should I say doctor?” You wiggle your eyebrows.
“Yes, yes you should,” he grins, obviously liking the use of his title on your lips.
He follows you into his bedroom. You’ve laid in his bed on late nights multiple times. But he never shared it with you. He must’ve been too scared his true feelings would come out at night like they did on the jet.
“Lay down,” he says softly.
“I thought I would do something for you first,” you say, pulling him in by the belt loop.
“No need, sweetheart.”
“But I want to,” you tell him.
He nods. “As you wish.”
After slipping down his pants, you position yourself on your knees. He hands you a pillow so you don’t get sore. That makes you smile.
You take just the tip at first after running your thumb along it. After getting use to the feeling of him in your mouth, your head bobs up and down on him. Spencer’s hands tug on your hair as he finishes in your mouth.
“Your turn,” he says with a smile, looking down at you.
“If you please, doctor.”
His mouth is on your clit in no time. His tongue and lips work magic, causing you to call out his name.
“God, Spencer,” you whine, your hands tangled in his hair. It’s much shorter than it was when you met him, it makes him look older. In a good way.
With a combination of his fingers inside you and mouth working on your bundle of nerves, your legs are shaking and you’re finishing.
Spencer hardly gives you time to catch your breath before his lips are on yours and he’s hovering above you. You don’t mind. You need him.
“Are you ready, darling?” He asks.
When you say yes, he slowly slips himself inside you. He gentle at first, giving you both time to adjust.
His thrusts gradually speed up, and the slow and gentle turns into fast and rough. The sounds of your heavy breaths and moans fill his bedroom.
“Fuck, Y/n,” he groans, hand on your neck.
“Don’t stop,” you breathe out, wrapping your legs around his torso.
It doesn’t take much longer for you both to be moaning loud and shaking once again. You clench around him as you come, causing his own finish to release from him.
You bask in the high of the adrenaline coursing through your body. The two of you breathe heavily, your hearts pounding.
“Wow,” you sigh, moving your hair out of your face. “So, was that as good as your dream?”
“Much better,” Spencer says, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb gently.
tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer @impossiblynoisywasteland @jazzerbelle14
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vinylsbygi · 2 years
Text
requests on moodboards are open :) and you can find more spencer moodboards right here
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dating spencer reid!
small boy. cuddly boy. pretty boy. blushes a lot. reads to you. buys you books and flowers. loves soups. art museum dates. picnic dates. a bit insecure but you love him sm. good at baking. i just know he is. baby boy makes you read him poetry because he likes your voice very very much. i'm sorry but this man sleeps with socks on. buys cinnamon rolls every day in autumn because "it's autumn and cinnamon rolls are amazing."
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railingsofsorrow · 8 months
Text
Sun-bleached Paper Petals
[spencer reid x original character]
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summary: when iris valencia sent a letter to a certain doctor reid about one of his articles, she didn't expect to receive an answer. at all. but she did get one. and they've been corresponding back and forth ever since — in the old-fashioned way. until a threatening situation forces them to meet face to face.
pairing: s.reid x oc!iris valencia
warning/content: friends to lovers trope; fluff; corny jokes; slowburn!; geniuses flirting; mentions of tw!sensitive topics: body insecurities; mental illness; signs of abuse and trauma; descriptions of injury/violence/death and case details. (I'll insert warnings in the beginning of each chapter in case it's necessary)
A/N: whoever wants to be tagged for this fic, fill this out or dm me.
A/N²: the dates in the chapters’ title are not related to days that I will post them, they're just connected to the characters letters.
navi
masterpost
ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
DISCLAIMER: None of the scientific facts in here should be taken seriously, most of them are inaccurate. This is purely a work of fiction made for entertainment purposes only.
[chapters]
0.1 meet the oc!
ACT I ━━ ‘LETTERS’ [COMPLETED!]
1.1 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 3𝚛𝚍; 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘 𝖛.
1.2 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 6st; 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗 𝖗.
1.3 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 11𝚝𝚑; 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘 𝖛.
1.4 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 13𝚝𝚑; 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗 𝖗.
1.5 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 15𝚝𝚑; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.
1.6 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 17𝚝𝚑; 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗.
1.7 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 20𝚝𝚑; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.
1.8 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 23rd; 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗.
1.9 𝙾𝙲𝚃. 25th; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.
ACT II ━━ ‘MEETING YOU’
2.1 catharsis
2.2 solus
2.3 in progress. . .
ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz ; @cultish-corner ; @lover-of-books-and-tea ; @theonecalledrue
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lechemoon · 1 year
Text
title: stain
spencer reid x reader
wc: ~1.1k
a/n: hello :) hope you enjoy a short little thing. i've spilled many a coffee on things in my time
---
“i-“
you’re clumsy, embarrassed, ditzy?
“i am so, so, so-“
sleep-deprived? yes and no. but that isn’t what you’re going for either.
“-sooo, so very-“
no, those aren’t the words you’re looking for. at least, you don’t think there’s a word that can possibly describe how you feel at this very moment in the bullpen.
one word finally comes to mind: mortified. you’re absolutely and utterly mortified. and you know he sees it in your eyes and the way your brows wrinkle together in worry.
“-sorry, dr. reid!” you finally let our your strung out apology, groaning that last ‘sorry’ at the very end. “i didn’t mean to- oh my god, the coffee’s going to stain- i didn’t mean to spill coffee on your tie.”
spencer looks at you like he’s trying to figure out the two different train of thoughts that are currently chugging in your brain: the train apologizing, and the train worried about the stain that (with enough care to clean) will eventually come out of his, what he calls during this time of year, seasonal tie. 
his self-dubbed valen-tie. a tie so pink and so plump-looking that anyone would probably mistake it for a bratz dolls lips.
jade’s lips, you think almost automatically. she was your nieces favorite bratz doll when she was younger. the thought makes you want to smile, but you’re too busy setting your now-sticky cup down on the nearest desk and grabbing for napkins you so hastily fished out of your work slacks pockets. 
“it’s fine,” he starts, “really. i don’t think this will stain too bad, if at all even!” he says as light-heartedly as he can. you can see from your peripheral vision that his hands are moving animatedly, palms open wide to deem himself not bothered by the mess you just made.
he gestures towards your hand for one of the napkins you clutch, but you move your hand further from him. you’re determined to clean up your own mess. 
“no, please,” you push, “it’s such a nice color. let me at least try to dry it,” you say, dabbing quickly and as gently as possible. the tie feels so silky in your hand and you bite your lips in guilt. 
how much did he spend on it? does he need it dry cleaned? “dr. reid-“
“just reid,” he cuts in. then, he clears his throat before quickly adding, “or spencer- whichever you’re comfortable with. you don’t need to keep calling me doctor.”
if you were looking at him, you would notice a tentative smile on his lips. but you weren’t looking at him.
instead, you feel yourself getting frustrated and your face heating up. the tie! so silky, so expensive, so pink, so cute. how could you do this to your colleague? who chose this color? does he have a girlfriend? you mentally shake your head.
no inappropriate thoughts about coworkers at work. those thoughts are reserved for after the 6 p.m. business day.
“Dr.re-, sorry, spencer.” you catch yourself. you may not have been looking at him before, but you did hear him. the least you can do is address him how he prefers. 
you finally crane your neck up to look up at him, and you feel like you may word-vomit. have you ever been this close to him? have his eyes always been so brown and so wide? does he always look this sweet? does the girlfriend you’ve decided he has gets to admire him like this on a regular schedule?
“you’re so-“
pretty. handsome. beautiful. 
“you’re so sticky… you’re tie.” you settle, eyes darting to clarify you weren’t talking about him but his article of dirtied clothing. “you need to take it off and give it to me. i should clean it for you!”
instinctively, you loop the end of the tie around your knuckles and pull down. 
you quickly remember this isn’t how you are supposed to remove a tie when you’re suddenly eye-level with spencer.
letting out a small oof, he steadies himself by putting his hands on top of his thighs. “not like that,” he squeaks, and you think it may be out of fear of you choking him. you let the tie go.
“you don’t need to do that,” he says softly, the smile coming back to his face as his eyes settle on you- his eyes telling you that it’s no big deal and that you don’t have to worry about something so small. 
after straightening his poster and running a hand quickly through his hair to fix the disheveledness of it to a slightly altered disheveled style, his hands reach to the knot of his tie, one hand gently gripping the base of the knot while his fingers on the opposite hand work to straighten the tie. 
there’s something about the string of movements that makes your mouth go dry. you lick your lips, a growing ball of nerves making its home in your belly. but you blink rapidly. an attempt to regain your own attention at the issue at hand and not at the hands on the tie. 
“i insist.” you crumple the paper towels in your hand into tight balls. “or at least let me buy you a new tie. i really don’t think that will come off completely.”
spencer thinks about it for a beat. eyes moving up to the ceiling in what seems like deep thought and his hands making their way from his tie into his pockets. he’s teetering back and forth between the balls of his feet and his toes.
the act itself would normally be viewed as endearing by you, but you really want to make things right. 
“buying a new tie is too troublesome. i don’t need two in the same color,” he finally says. 
his eyes settle down to you, and they twinkle like he’s finally thought of something. “i have a meeting in a half hour, but maybe we can hunt for a bottle of white vinegar together in the meantime?”
“vinegar?” you can’t help the confusion that reached your face. it makes you grab your coffee cup to hide your mouth. “why vinegar?” you ask over the cup before taking a long swig.
he gives you a side smile this time, the left corner of his lip reaching upward. “vinegar and water will help with the stain on silk. but we have to get it quickly before the stain decides to stay forever.”
a grin attempts to make its way to your lips; it makes you think his smile is contagious. you crush the crumpled napkin-balls in your hand some more and nod, “i think i saw some in one of the kitchen’s cabinet’s. let’s go find it quick, then.” 
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