#spencer reid x plussize!reader

[sixofpomegranates]

♜ Sunrise ♜ — S.R.

Request 1: Can you do one where spencer comes home from a tough case & he just wants to cuddle with his girlfriend & is clingy?? (preferably written as plus size but it works either way!)

Request 2: hey so i was thinking about showering with spence. not even in like a sexual way. i feel like he’s just the type to beg you to get out of bed and come shower with him because he just always has to be close to you.

Pairing: Spencer x Plus-Size!Girlfriend!Reader

CW: Fluff, Comfort | No Use of Y/N, tooth-rotting fluff, body confidence/internalized fatphobia (reader), loving yourself, showering together, one mention of a case with children that couldn't be saved, a proposal

I am half-asleep on the couch. I have stumbled across a re-run marathon of old Sex and the City episodes, and those women talking about why their relationships don't work have become my white noise. I love spending my vacation days in too-big joggers and shirts and falling asleep on the couch.

I hear the door getting unlocked and somebody sneaking in since it's 1 in the morning. The key goes into the bowl next to the door, the gun is safely put into the safe, shoes are kicked off the feet, and the go-bag is placed on top of the washing machine so we don't forget to wash its contents.

Spencer is home.

I hear him shuffling to the couch and leaning over its back. He chuckles almost inaudibly before walking around and crawling onto me.

"Hey," I mumble, not opening my eyes.

"Hey, love."

He kisses my cheeks, kisses down my neck, and then takes place between my legs, laying down on me like a weighted blanket. Nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, I feel his hot breath on my skin as he sighs.

"Didn't think you'd be home so soon," I murmur.

"Case ended badly. Children. Couldn't save them."

I open my eyes. Spencer and I talk a lot about his job since I moved in. Imagine keeping all that trauma inside you, just not to bother your girlfriend...I couldn't live with myself, knowing Spencer would do that.

We are a couple, which means we are a team. We buy groceries together, cook, and try to fix the goddamn kitchen sink together. Spencer is there when I have cramps, feel insecure about my weight and looks, and listens when I had a bad day at work. I do the same for him (of course in the ways he needs me).

Sharing the nightmares, even if I only get the tame versions of circumstances from him, is what he needs. Me, wrapping my hands around my handsome boyfriend and gently scratching his scalp when he needs to relax. Simply being there.

"I'm crushing you, aren't I?" he asks.

I only shrug. It's okay if he does; I like him this close. Still, he moves further down. Continuing to lay between my legs, he rests his head on my stomach.

I used to be so insecure about my body, but since Spencer, since I know just how much he loves me... It would be downright disrespectful, wouldn't I love myself at least half as much as he does. I'm not saying I am completely over my internalized fatphobia, which only ever acts up for me and myself, and some days are rougher than others, but I'm working on it.

"I love you," he mutters, looking at the TV. "Hey, isn't that Sarah from Hocus Pocus?"

I giggle softly, making him laugh because the chuckles have him getting shaken. "Yeah," I say. "I love you too, by the way."

"As if I don't know it."

Spencer presses a kiss on my soft stomach, then focuses back on TV. With time, his breathing becomes more shallow, and his features begin to relax as he falls asleep. My hands still stroke through his curls as I close my eyes. And just like that, I, too, have fallen asleep.

*****

I wake up due to butterfly kisses being placed all over my face. I open my eyes to Spencer's pretty hazel ones and a soft, boyish grin on his lips.

Fuck, I'm so lucky.

"Hey, Spence."

After all this time, I am still love-drunk as fuck.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

He shakes his head. "Just woke up... Wanna take a shower, wash off yesterday. Maybe drive out to the cabin for a couple of days. I have the week off because of the case."

Gideon's Cabin. Spencer inherited it after his death and remodeled parts of it. We spend a lot of time there. Especially since Spence made sure I have Wi-Fi and created the "No Spiders or Insects" initiative.

I nod sleepily, the sun isn't even out yet, and let him pull me off the couch and lead me into the bathroom.

Showering together. Before Spencer, I would've rather dropped dead instead of showering with somebody... But with the right person, that has you learn your own value... Yeah, we love showering together. Sexually and non-sexually.

It being sexual is nice (really nice), but there just being the two of us, being there, together, the moment filled with intimacy and vulnerability... You just can't compare it to anything else. It is perfect.

I win the love lottery, and I continue to win it.

Feels good being god's favorite – If he exists. Or she... Or they.

Our shared shower takes time. There is some sort of ritual that has embedded itself in this activity. I first wash Spencer's hair carefully and gently.

All the time, we touch each other and place kisses on the other's skin. We say no words; our love is solely expressed by touches.

When it is my turn, Spencer takes extra care when handling my hair. He knows my routine to a T, is so gentle it feels like being bathed by butterflies... Whatever that feels like.

As my back turns to him, he kisses my shoulder several times. "I love you so, so much," he tells me, so profoundly loving it sounds like it hurts.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" I offer.

He works the leave-in conditioner into my hair. "No, baby. I just wanna be with you... makes everything better."

"Suck up," I snicker as he washes the conditioner from his hands.

"Just being honest," he chuckles.

We get out of the shower, and Spencer grabs the big fluffy towel in which he wraps me up.

He first kisses my nose, then my lips. Resting his forehead against mine, he sighs contented. "You're the most beautiful thing in my life."

"You're one to talk, Spence," I laugh, smacking his naked butt.

He kisses me again. "I'm gonna get dressed and pack our things."

"I can help."

"No, baby. Just take your time getting ready."

Spencer kisses me again and again, then presses a kiss against my neck and leaves me to blow dry my hair and follow through with my morning routine. After face cleanser, I put on some moisturizers with SPF, some mascara, and tinted lip balm.

Why should I go all out with my makeup? It is summer, the weather is too hot to have foundation stay on my face, and near the cabin is a lake I plan on swimming in today anyway. I love makeup and have fun dressing up, but I achieved enough confidence to no longer have to use it as a mask to feel beautiful.

In our bedroom, I grab some underwear and my favorite summer dress; then I put on some slip-on shoes. Spencer is already waiting for me in the living room, two bags on the couch filled with our clothes.

"Hey, pretty girl. Ready to go?"

I nod. "Yeah. Have you packed my-"

"Kindle?" he interrupts, chuckling. "Of course. Also, all the chargers and the tablet."

"My hero," I exclaim, grabbing both of the bags, just to have Spencer take the heavier one from me, and we leave for our favorite place of refuge if our batteries are drained and we need to relax.

*****

We arrive at Gideon's Cabin as the sun rises. Spencer has brought one of his cameras, talking about taking some photos of the lake while the golden hour presents him with the perfect lighting.

I follow him after bringing our bags in. He looks so beautiful when he is encaptured by one of his interests, for once seeing beauty and not horror. It is one of the best forms of self-therapy.

Having heard me, he spins around, not stopping taking pictures. He always photographs me, and it made me lose my fear of bad pictures of myself. Some of my prettiest ones are my boyfriend's candid works.

I walk over to the wooden steps leading to the water and sit down. Spencer lays his camera on his jacket next to me and sits behind me, pulling me between his legs. He presses a couple of kisses against my temple and cheeks, then rests his head on my shoulder.

We sit there for a while, watching the forest come alive and the sunrise bathing the world in golden warmth. The world can be so peaceful.

Spencer shifts a little behind me, whispering my name. I look at him, waiting for him to carry on with his train of thought.

An arm reaches over my shoulder, holding a little box he flips open with his thumb, revealing a beautiful engagement ring.

Tears immediately shoot into my eyes, and my mouth falls open as I look at my boyfriend in utter surprise. "Spence..."

"I am well aware this isn't the world-changing, movie-like proposal you deserve. Ipromisethat it only takes one word from you, and I will go all out and propose to you like I'm the prince in a fairytale... but this just feels right," he rambles, giving me enough time to decide for myself if I want this moment to be the one we'll forever remember.

I nod, biting my bottom lip. "Go on," I whisper, urging.

He smiles as though I hung the stars in the sky for him and pulls me closer. His arms around me, he holds the ring in front of us, letting the light play with the diamond on top. "Will you marry me, sweetheart? Do me the honor and spend the rest of our days as my wife?"

I feel a tear running down my cheek and nod. "Yes, Spence. Nothing I would love more."

He takes my hand, puts the ring on my finger, and then brings my hand to his lips, kissing its back.

I now turn to him, seeing that he is just as unraveled as I, with pink cheeks, glassy eyes, and a lovesick smile on his lips. I close the distance between us and kiss him.

As we pull apart, I whisper, "I love you."

He chuckles, "I love you."

"Did you decide on proposing on our way here?"

He shakes his head. "I carried the ring around for months, and all of a sudden, we sat here, and I just knew I couldn't wait any longer."

"Glad you didn't."

I rest my head against his chest, and we sit there in comfortable silence until the sunrise has faded into the day.

At some point, we get up, walk back to the cabin and fall into bed. We merely send a quick text to our friends and family, a photo of my now beringed hand in Spencer's.

Then we cuddle up in bed, Spencer's head resting on my chest, my hand in his hair, playing with his curls. He has fallen asleep, catching up with the hours of sleep missing, and the longer I lay there, listening to his calm breathing and the birds outside our windows, I as well drift away for a well-needed nap.

#criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #x reader #plus size!y/n #plusize!reader #spencer x fem!reader #fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid comfort #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x plus size!reader #spencer reid x plussize!reader #reader insert #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds comfort #reid x reader #reid x fem!reader #plus size!reader

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Big Hands (Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend, Spencer, are getting ready for a night out, when your insecurities start to get the best of you.

Word Count: 1531 -- it's just a lil guy

Warnings: Body insecurities, maybe a little bit of a big-girl-soapbox

A/N: I definitely wrote this very quickly this afternoon because I literally just felt like it. This is just a short lil one for the big gals who just want someone to notice them.

Anyway hope you enjoy! Thank you all who have commented/reblogged/liked my last fic!!

-

Your jeans hugged your curvy hips as you tugged them up to your belly button, covering the bottom, larger part of your stomach. You were tall, for a woman, but not taller than Spencer. He was, what, 6’1”? You stood around 5’9”, so he still towered over you, still had to look down at you when he spoke, still had to crane his neck to whisper in your ear. 

You were wearing a flowy, sage green blouse. Why were clothes so hard to find for a larger girl? It was all cold-shoulders and obnoxious patterns. You just wanted something that flattered your body type and made you feel sexy. Apparently that was just a ridiculous request. This blouse was cute, but modest, with a ruched, fluted bunching of the fabric in the middle. The collar was low-cut to accent your breasts, but the sleeves were long, which was annoying. You were going dancing tonight with your boyfriend and his coworkers. You didn’t want to show off all of your body, by any means, but you wanted to look hot. Who could blame you? And it was also going to get hot, temperature-wise. Long sleeves just didn’t feel like the most pragmatic choice. 

Sometimes you just gave up and went with the best option. And this blouse, that made you feel like you were going to a casual church event, not to a bar, was, unfortunately, the best option. 

You inhaled sharply and shrugged your shoulders as you looked in the full-length mirror hooked on the back of the closet door. Your hair looked really cute - the two biggest pieces on either side in the front were braided and dangled in front of you, effectively bringing your hair out of your eyes but also provided something to give your hair a little pizzazz. Your makeup looked great - a simple, subtle smokey eye and glossy lips. Your black boots looked good, peeking out from your wide-legged jeans, which hugged your hips and, honestly, made your butt look really good. 

It was just this stupid shirt. And maybe you were getting too much in your head about it. But you were transfixed on it, hating the way the sleeves bunched up a little, how the bottom half flowed beneath the ruched fabric, effectively covering your stomach, meeting your jeans and the top of your thighs. The color was too muted for a going-out top - you wished you could wear something more exciting. 

You sometimes wished you looked like Emily or JJ, or had the self-confidence to rock loud looks like Penelope did. But then you remembered that you were who you were for a reason. You looked like you simply because that was what you looked like. And there was no point in wishing you looked like someone else. 

Plus, Spencer was really into your body. He was nearly always staring at your breasts when you were in private, sometimes to the point where you had to snap your fingers in front of his eyes to garner his attention. 

It was flattering. You didn’t mind it if your boyfriend objectified you a little bit. He was respectful about it. 

“Y/N, are you about ready?” Spencer walked into your bedroom as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes met Spencer’s and you saw his neutral expression turn into a full-fledged grin, biting his tongue and all. “You look really nice,” he said, and you shook your head. 

“I look like a chaperone at a middle school dance,” you frowned, tugging at the fabric of your blouse in some illogical attempt to make it look different. 

“What?” Spencer stood behind you in the mirror. His chin basically met the top of your head, like too puzzle pieces. One hand rested on your hip, while the other slowly brushed your hair to one side so he could press a kiss to your neck. “I think you look great,” he added. 

You immediately felt tingly and your knees wobbled at the action. “But I’m not dressing for you,” you said, your voice instinctively dropping as Spencer’s lips trailed down your neck. You were having trouble concentrating on what you were trying to say. “I’m dressing for me, and I want to look cute. I can’t believe you’re even going tonight. You don’t dance, Spencer,” you pointed out, your self-control somehow beating out your desire for Spencer in the moment. You broke away from him and turned around to face him. 

“You do look cute, Y/N. I don’t understand what the issue is?” Spencer’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at you. “Also, I’m going out tonight because you want to. And I’m trying to keep an open mind. I might enjoy it.” 

You were proud of him. When you started dating about six months ago, he would have simply politely declined an invitation to a night out. And while you didn’t love going out every night, or even every weekend, for that matter, you did enjoy a night out occasionally. 

Regardless, he still didn’t quite understand what you were feeling about that damn shirt. “The issue,” you began, heaving a sigh, “is that I’m insecure about my body. Like any woman. You don’t get it, because you’re a man, and you literally have nothing to be insecure about.”

You knew the words were incorrect the moment you said them, but something kept you from backpedaling. You watched as Spencer shook his head, letting a small laugh escape him. “You could not be further from the truth,” Spencer pointed out, and you knew he was right. Men had plenty to be insecure about, and it was, in some ways, even more difficult for men to express those feelings. 

“Well, I think you’re perfect,” You let a small, playful smile creep onto your face, and Spencer rolled his eyes as you used his own tactic from earlier. He stepped towards you and his hands found your waist, contouring to match your curves. He knew them so well now, he could probably draw a map of your body with his eyes closed. 

“I appreciate that,” Spencer said, his voice a little softer as your eyes met his. His head dipped down, and you thought, certainly, that he was going to kiss you, but instead, his lips stopped just barely by your ears. You could feel his breath on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as he spoke. “You might be insecure, Y/N, but I am, too. You’re just human.” 

“What are you insecure about?” You found yourself asking, pulling your head back to look at him properly. Now you were curious. 

“My hands, mostly,” Spencer removed his hands from your waist, holding them palm-up, as if to present them to you for the first time. 

“What’s wrong with your hands?” You asked, placing your palms atop his. 

“They’re really big,” Spencer said timidly, and, admittedly, they were. But just by comparison. Your hands fit into his with plenty of extra space. You used your index fingers to trace his palms. 

“They’re not too big,” you told him, and Spencer just smiled down at you, shaking his head, like he was just humoring you. “I love your hands,” you continued. “I love that you can put your palm over an entire half of my face,” you said, guiding his palm to your cheek and grinning when his skin touched yours. Spencer’s thumb brushed your cheekbone. 

“And I love your body,” Spencer replied, and you just pursed your lips and shook your head. “No, Y/N, listen to me.” 

You let out a frustrated little exhale through your nose and let him continue. 

“I love the way you look. But I wouldn’t care if you were any bigger or any smaller. Because I love you. I’m attracted to you, to your mind, to your sense of compassion, and to your body. I love the way your hips fill out your jeans, how your stomach looks in your yoga pants,” he said. “I love the way you wiggle your toes when we’re watching something funny on TV, how you do a little shimmy in your seat when you’re eating something you really enjoy,” he explained, mimicking the movement. You looped your arms around his neck. “But mostly, I’m in love with your personality. How you challenge me, how you seem to bring out the best version of myself.”

You let out a wistful sigh. If this were a Jane Austen novel, you would have swooned. But instead, you used your grip around his neck to bring his face down to yours and kiss him. It was slow at first, then a little more intense, and when you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his. 

“You ready to go now?” Spencer asked, and when your eyes opened, you saw that he was smiling down at you. 

You shook your head, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “Not yet,” you said, your hands sliding down his arms until your palms met his. You tugged him in the direction of your bed. “I want to show you how much I love these big hands.” 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spence reid x plussize!reader #plus size reader #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi

[sreidisms]

Sweater Weather

Spencer Reid x Mid/Plussize!Fem!Reader

Summary: you wish you could be able to wear Spencer's clothes, but you wear completely different sizes. However, one day he comes home with a surprise.

Genre: ever so slight angst if you even notice it, fluff

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: insecurity, self-comparison, kissing. Only she/her pronouns are used, so trans girls and anyone who uses these pronouns, this is for you.

A/N: I read @tenpintsof-sundrop 's post about how SO many Spencer writers love the "girlfriend wearing their boyfriend's clothes" trope, and honestly as they should, but as a mid-size girl, it's not that realistic. So I took it upon myself to write a short blurb where Spencer wears one of your sweaters. Enjoy 😙

Autumn was undoubtedly your favourite season: the crisp air biting at your skin, the crunch of browned leaves on the pavement, the feeling of a freshly-made mug of tea warming your hands, and of course, wearing sweaters. Sweater weather, is what you called it.

What made it better was the fact you enjoyed experiencing all of this with your lovely boyfriend, Spencer. You could only describe it as luck that you both shared a deep love for autumn, and Halloween naturally. You and Spencer enjoyed taking walks in the afternoon dusk of October, watching obscure foreign films that only he could translate while you were wrapped up in a blanket, and baking cinnamon goods when sleep was long forgotten on the nights he was off work.

Nothing could disrupt your joy during this time - well, except maybe one thing. Both avid sweater collectors, they were all you wore during the colder months. And as usual boyfriend-girlfriend relationships go, you often thought about borrowing a sweater or two from his wardrobe. He had a red striped one which you adored, a memory of his younger self when you had met each other at a flea market and both grabbed the same vintage book. His brown argyle one was definitely your favourite though. And you would ask him to wear it if it wasn’t for one thing.

You wore a larger size than Spencer. It was always blaringly obvious to you how different your bodily proportions were. Although the taller one, your boyfriend wore trousers that you could hardly fit a thigh through and his shirts would only reach past your neck, or at least you assumed - you had never attempted to try.

It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did. There were plenty of girls who were taller or chubbier than their romantic counterpart, but it still stung. There was nothing you wanted more during colder evenings than to steal one of his sweaters and bury yourself beneath the warm wool, enveloping yourself in his smell. So you opted for cuddling up as close to him as possible, letting him wrap his arms around you - it was as good as it could get.

However, one day during November, when you were alone at your shared apartment, a very wonderful thing occurred.

The kitchen had just been cleaned after another one of your baking fiascos. Amongst many things, you knocked the bag of flour while putting the tray of odd-looking cookies in the oven, and thus made a mess of the entire floor and counter. It took a while to clean up and it was not rewarding to open the oven door to deformed, sad-looking cookies. Whatever, you thought. It clearly wasn’t your day.

You found a place in your favourite armchair, your current read in your hands. It was the ideal way to pass the time since Spencer had texted you about his mountainous pile of reports he had to finish getting through. He could surely read faster than everyone else, but it didn’t mean they would be finished in a short period of time.

As you delved deeper and deeper into the story, you were startled when you heard the front door click open. You glanced at the clock up on the wall. Almost midnight, poor boy.

“Angel?”

“I’m in the living room!” you called out.

The shuffle of shoes and a gentle thump echoed through the corridor as Spencer took off his converse and dropped his messenger bag. The sound of soft footsteps neared you until the tall man rounded the corner and appeared in all his nerdy glory.

“Hey, finally home,” he sighed.

But you didn’t listen to what he was saying because you were too focused on something else: resting on his lanky frame was your sweater. One of your warmer ones. It was obviously a little too big on him, the material slipping off his right shoulder to reveal his white button-up underneath. The dark green sleeves were always a tad too long for your arms, and you’d assume they wouldn’t even reach Spencer’s wrists, but there they were covering his knuckles, only his fingertips poking out.

“Is everything alright? You seem distracted.” Spencer’s voice pierced your bubble of awe.

“Is that my sweater?”

He looked down and pulled on the hem of the sweater, a faint blush tainting his cheeks. “Uh yeah, it seems to be so. Does it bother you?”

Bother you was the last thing the image of your boyfriend in your clothing would do.

You cleared your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts into an intelligible sentence.

“N-Not at all! You just never asked me to wear anything of mine before … did you not have any sweaters left?”

“Oh no, I did! I um- well yesterday you wore it and left it on my desk chair, and it looked so warm and it … smelt of you.” His voice went up an octave at this last part. “And I thought I could wear it. Is that okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Wrong wasn’t the word you would use. Cute, adorable, heart-warming were adjectives that fit to describe the situation.

“Far from that, Spence. You look … you look adorable,” you said warmly.

He smiled in embarrassment and lifted his hand to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He truly was the spitting image of domesticity in this moment.

“C’mere.” You urged him to walk towards you, tucking your legs underneath your body. He shuffled closer while he picked at the stray ends of wool fraying at the sleeves.

Once he was close enough, you held his face in your hands and left a tender kiss on his plump, pink lips. He whined quietly at the sudden action, but let you do as you pleased - he couldn’t really say no, he was putty in your grasp.

After stopping the sweet kiss, your eyes traced over his outfit again - God, he was such a darling.

“Please wear my clothes more often, you look cute in them,” you said while looking into his hazel eyes.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he grinned.

Need him to wear my sweaters, I swear 🤧

#writingreidisms #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #mgg fluff #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #midsize reader #plussize reader

[beautifulbrainrot]

Prompt 23 with a plus sized reader and subspencer?

Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSized!Reader

i hope this is good! i myself am not plus sized but i do struggle with body image issues, 🫶🏼

Prompt 23: i love your body baby. everything you hate about it drives me crazy

cw 18+ minors dni plussize!reader, sorta sub!spence (kinda vanilla ig) body image issues, self hatred, oral (f receiving), body worship

you didn’t know how long you had been staring at your self in the bathroom mirror, but you didn’t feel any better about what you saw. too preoccupied judging your reflection you didn’t see spencer walk past the bathroom behind you a peek in. he immediately recognised the look of sadnesses as you looked at your body, his heart squeezing in his chest as you looked at the parts he loved about you with disgust.

“what going on in here?” he questioned, stepping into the bathroom behind you.

“oh, nothing! just got out of the shower.” you replied quickly, moving to walk past him but before you could exit the door he stepped in front of you.

“spence.. what are you doing?” you asked, eyebrow raising quizzically. he placed his hands on your broad hips, your breathing quickening as your brain flooded with self-deprecating thoughts. his heart broke as he saw you expression change from confusion to sadness. he knelt down st your feet and gripped your thighs, placing soft kisses on the stretch mark covered flesh. a blush erupted over your face, and you tried to push him away but he only gripped on tighter, his kisses moving closer to the edge of the towel.

“spencer stop! why are you doing this?” you pleaded, confusion and sadness still etched across your face.

“because i love you body baby. everything you hate about it drives me crazy.” he stated, pulling your towel off in one quick tug, and burying his face in cunt when it hit the floor.

“spence!” you yelled, moaning as he ravished you, licking broad stripes up your pussy and sucking harshly on your clit. he pulled back slightly to look at you and you blushed at the sight of his big brown eyes staring into yours.

“i’m showing you how much i love you and your body.” he replied simply before diving back in. you moaned loudly, and braced yourself on the sink as he started to gently open you with his slender fingers while still swiping your clip with his tongue. you gently reached down to card your fingers through his hair before pulling him closer into you harshly, moans from his mouth vibrating against you at the pleasurable pain.

he quickened his pace as you finally relaxed against the sink and let moans spill freely from you mouth. he pulled his face back away from your pussy, fingers still plunging deep inside of you, to gaze upon your body. he truly could not understand how you could look at it with such hatred, whereas he looked at it with such love and awe. but he was determined to help change how you looked at yourself. determined to show you how beautiful you truly are.

he dove back into you, suckling on your clit harshly and curling his fingers inside of you, pushing you in to an intense orgasm that had you trembling and moaning loudly. spencer stood up as you came down from your high, pressing kisses to every part of your body as he rose until he finally reached you face, where he kissed you on the lips, sweetly and gently, putting all his love for you into it, hoping you could feel it.

“i mean it. i love you. everything about you, you’re beautiful.” he whispered against you lips. though you still felt doubtful, the love radiating from his words brought a warmth to your heart and a small smile to your face.

——————

love you all 🫶🏼

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #sub!spencer #spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer reid #prompts #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

[13atoms]

Spencer Reid x reader, Rossi is readers father, she is not part of the BAU, Curvy and much younger than Spencer at 26, loves how smart he is and likes to learn about facts she’s just not as smart, loves baking. Smut?? Maybe?? Thank you!

With love and kindness, I feel very uncomfortable getting asks copy pasted to loads of different writers? The immensely talented @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi wrote this beautiful piece in response, and I’d feel very weird answering the same request!

#I’ve heard a lot of writers echo the same sentiment #but by no means is my opinion universal! #I just don’t like stepping on toes #and repeated INCREDIBLY specific asks feels like being tricked into that :(

[bunny-script]

this might offend some writers on here but tbh i don’t really care too much ?

why are x plussize reader fics almost always about the reader hating themselves ? that just shows how the writer actually thinks of plussize people and it doesn’t accurately represent them. there’s no need to mention insecurities and eating disorders in every other sentence and someone coming in to save them from their self hatred.

#this obvi isn’t the case if it’s a request #do better and stop being fatphobic ! #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #bunnytalks #plussize reader #plus size #x reader #criminal minds #fatphobia

[ilovereiding]

Tangled Up in Your Words

summary: reader and Spencer never got along well, but when they get in a heated argument and Spencer says something hurtful about readers weight, he realizes that he crossed a line. Can he fix it and get her back once he realizes he’s in love?

warnings: insecurity (reader), yelling, fighting, Spencer being a dick in the beginning, kissing (i think that’s all, pls lmk if I missed anything!)

pairing: Spencer Reid x PlusSized!Fem!Reader

category: angst, eventual comfort, enemies to lovers

a/n: hii!! this is my first fic ever, if anyone at all reads this then please enjoy, any constructive criticism is helpful.<3

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The team had just gotten back from a case in Florida, and it had been a hard one for every member of the team, like most cases involving children are. Y/n and Spencer going at it again was certainly not helping.

They had never gotten along well. Y/n joined the team a little over 2 years ago now, and maybe it was just that they had gotten off at the wrong foot, nobody really knew. They just disliked each other from the start. Argument after argument. Often over stupid little things.

What y/n didn’t know, is that the reason Spencer ‘hated’ her, was because the day they met, she had seemed so kind. She greeted him with a warm smile and beautiful y/e/c eyes. Her hair framed her face practically perfectly. He pushed her away and was unknowingly rude to her, because he knew he had a soft spot for kind, beautiful women. He knew he couldn’t fall in love again. So he stupidly settled on the solution of being rude to her. So, that’s how they ended up in situation they are in currently.

Storming into the bullpen, y/n yelling at Spencer for probably the 1,000th time.

“It’s so obvious that you did it on purpose, Reid!”

“I did not! I swear! It’s not fair that you won’t believe me!”

Spencer had spilled scalding hot coffee on her brand new (and quite expensive, might she add) lilac cardigan while on the jet ride home.

“Once again, you obviously did it on purpose, because you hate me and that definitely seems like something you would do to get on my every last nerve, like you do everyday for some reason that is STILL a mystery to me!”

The team had all been watching them at this point, watching them in the middle of the bullpen, yelling at each other. They decided to let them fight it out and eventually get over it like all the other times.

“Y/n, I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose! As much as I do hate you, I wouldn’t do something thing like that!”

“Whatever you say, jerk. Just leave me alone.”, starting to walk away. She was over it a long time ago, deciding to try and be the bigger person and put it to an end before she gave into the urge to punch him square in the face.

“Yeah, walk away. Maybe this is the reason you can’t get a date, because you’re stubborn and ugly, on the inside and on the outside.” He was just letting insults pour from his mouth at this point, no matter how mean, no matter how cruel, because he was enraged that she wouldn’t let him explain. All the build up was coming out now, his wall breaking down.

She froze in her tracks. Sure, she and Reid had had arguments in the past, but he had never in his life said something insulting about her body. The body which she was very insecure about. The body she felt was too out-there. Too flabby. Too much. She had been insecure all her life, starting to get bullied in middle school, only for it to get worse through high school. She was glad those days were over. Now, all those horrible feelings started coming back. The flood gates had opened. Old wounds, cracks to her heart and confidence, re-opened.

“Yeah, maybe that’s the reason you can’t get a date. Because you look like- like that” He didn’t know why he said it, it just came out of his mouth, all of his rage and self control leaving his body.

The team was watching in shock, eyes wide. This was certainly not the Spencer they had grown so fond of over the years. This was someone different. He never made such crude comments about anyones body or appearance. He didn’t believe in those insults. Until now, I guess.

She slowly turned around, tears pricked in the corners in her eyes. She saw Spencer’s face soften at the broken sight of her.

The tears soon started falling freely from her eyes and onto her face. “I- um-“ She felt like her throat started to close in. “uh- e-excuse me” She let out a heavy sob as she ran to the bathroom. “W-wait, y/n- Y/N!” Spencer called, but she was already out of sight.

Spencer stood there in awe. He felt like he couldn’t move, like he was stuck in place. Like his feet had grown roots to the ground.

Just then, Penelope came out of her batcave. She was about to welcome the team back, when she saw the looks on their faces. “Hey g- what…happened? Are you guys ok? Reid? Where’s y/n?”

Everyone stayed silent for a minute. Then Emily spoke up, “Bathroom…” was all she was able to choke out, still in shock from Spencer’s hurtful words.

Penelope ran down past them, she knew something bad had happened, y/n was a strong woman…at least from the outside.

As Penelope approached the bathroom, she could hear a heavy sob come from the other side of the stall. “Y/n, honey? Can- can I come in?”

No response.

“Knock once if yes and- and twice for no.”

…*knock*

“Okay honey, I’m coming in, ok?” Garcia slowly opened the door, only to find a very disheveled y/n on the other side, sitting on the bathroom floor, crying her eyes out, head in her hands.

“Oh, y/n.” Penelope hugged her. They sat on the dirty floor for about 10 minutes before she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/n slowly nodded her head. She proceeded to tell Penelope everything that happened, on the jet, everything Spencer had said to her.

Meanwhile, out in the bullpen, JJ was the first to talk. “Spence…how could you say something like that?”

“I-I…I don’t know…I don’t…I-I need to go.” He proceeded to scramble around to get his things, stuff them quickly inside his satchel, and run off to the elevators.

Y/n didn’t want to see anyone other than Penelope the rest of the day. She was too heartbroken. It was because, the truth was, she was in love with Spencer Reid. She had just admitted it to herself, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere, because he obviously hated her. Obviously.

Right?

Right.

They both took the rest of the day off, which Hotch obviously allowed. They both headed back to Penelope’s apartment, which y/n intended to stay the night.

When Spencer arrived at his apartment, he didn’t bother to do anything except flop down on his bed, staring into space. He thought about his words, and how much he must have hurt her. How could he do that? How could he call that love? Seeing the tears in her eyes, it broke him. Truly. He thought about calling her, texting, anything, but he knew he would be the very last person she would want to show up on her phone screen.

He was right. He was the very last person she wanted to see. She was truly heartbroken. Her insecurities worsened that day, no matter how many mins words Penelope threw at her. The next morning, she drove back to her apartment.

As Spencer walked into work the next morning, two coffees in hand, planning to do his very best to apologize, but then the realization hit him.

Y/n wasn’t in today.

She was no where to be seen.

All day, he was distracted. Thankfully, it was only a paperwork day, but he was way too distracted nonetheless. Too full of guilt to concentrate. His co-workers avoiding him and giving him knowing glares was not helping either.

When the day finally came to an end, he was the first out of the glass doors, heading straight to y/n’s apartment. When he arrived, he ran up the stairs, panting, to her apartment door. He stood there for a good 15 seconds, contemplating, before he decided to go for it and knock.

“Penelope I already told you that I’m fine.”, he heard from inside. Just hearing her voice made him feel a little bit better, but now it was time for the hard part.

“Uh, i-it’s not Penelope…”, he said slowly from outside the door. He didn’t hear anything for a second, then, he heard some shuffling, and then the door knob opening from the other side. He saw her figure come into view, he saw how disheveled and broken she looked. Cheeks red and puffy with tears, hair dirty, she looked like she hadn’t showered. Another giant wave of guilt overtook him. This was all because of him. Her pain, caused by him.

Without undoing the chain on the door, she spoke softly, voice sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “Please go. I don’t want to talk to you.” Her voice breaking, he could see the tears building up and threatening to spill over the edge at the memory of yesterday.

“Please…give me a chance. To explain.”

“Why should I. What is there to explain, Reid? You think i’m disgusting and you always have, you just finally said it to my face like no one else it brave enough to do.”

His heart breaking more at her words, he finally spit it out.

“Because I’m in love with you, goddamnit!”

He saw the one visible eye he could see grow wide at his confession. She then closed the door, and right as he was about to give up, he heard the chain being undone from the other side of the door, the only thing separating him and the goddess of a woman he believed to be his soulmate.

The door then opened, making her whole body visible. With her mouth slightly agape, she moved over slightly so he could slide through the crack of the door.

“Is this some sick joke?,” she asked him, genuinely wondering. She didn’t exactly know how to react to this.

“Never. Never ever, y/n. I’ve realized I love you, I finally admitted it to myself. There is so much to love about you, one of them being your body. I love you so much, along with your body. You are so beautiful. Ethereal. I swear on my life I didn’t mean what I said. You are stunning, y/n. I’m so sorry no one ever gave you the love you deserve before. You are like a shot of espresso, bathed in sunlight. Like a goddess sent down from the heavens. Please. Please y/n, if you give me the chance, I will spend every waking moment of the rest of my life making it up to y-“ he was cut off. Cut off in the best way possible. One minute he’s ranting about how beautiful she is, and the next, she’s grabbing wither side of his face with her hands and pulling him in for an earth-shattering kiss. His lips on hers, only things he would dare dream about, things he never for a second expected to happen. But here he is, standing in the middle of her apartment, with their lips moving in sync like they were built for each other. Like they were grown from the same dirt. Meant for each other.

Soulmates.

She pulled away first, but only because she was out of breath. Still holding each other like if they let go, the other would fly away, he looked into y/n’s eyes. He didn’t see hatred, or loathing - what he saw in her eyes in that moment was pure love. Love for him.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

Those were the only words he had to hear. Even if he died right that second, he would die a happy man. Because she loved him. She loved him back. And she meant it.

“I-I want you to know that this doesn’t mean that I automatically forgive you…because what you said really hurt me. It really did. But, I think I’ll take you up in that making it up to me offer.” Now she was smiling up at him.

“Of course y/n. I didnt mean it, really. I will spend the rest of my life worshiping you and your body. Why? Because it’s what you deserve.”

He leaned down to connect their lips again, and in that moment, the both of them felt purely blissed-out. And they could live with that. Forever. Because they were forever.

Soulmates.

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a/n: AHHH!!! First fic finished! If you read this i hope you enjoyed it😁😁<333

#criminal minds #spencer reid #penelope garcia #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x plus sized reader #x plus sized reader #spencer reid x y/n #angst #hurt/comfort #love #first fic #new writer

[metalheddie]

✨🪐hello friends!🪐✨

My name is Maddie! I'm 18 and go by she/they <3

i'm an Aqua sun, Sag moon, and Gemini rising!

i take requests for HC's and blurbs!

some things i will write:

- steve harrington

- eddie munson

- robin buckley

- nancy wheeler

- reidaway

- jemily

- penemily

- tenemily

- spencer reid

- x readers

- fluff

- spicy fluff (very sparingly)

- slight angst

- poc!reader

- plussized!reader

- hurt/comfort (with limits)

some things i will not write

- smut (i’m not super confident yet)

- SH

- ED

- SA

- trauma that i have not personally been through

^^ this list may be subject to change at any time

I do emoji anons as well! (just fyi <3)

Please don't be shy if you need me to tag anything that makes you uncomfortable!! my inbox and messages are always open <3

i'm always looking for new friends so pop into my messages for that too !!

Alright, that's pretty much it lol! thanks for stopping by!!

#about me! #pinned post <3

[sixofpomegranates]

hey so i was thinking about showering with spence. not even in like a sexual way. i feel like he’s just the type to beg you to get out of bed and come shower with him because he just always has to be close to you.

A/N: Okay, okay, okay! I’ll turn this into a headcanon AND PART OF A ONE-SHOT!

➤ [The One-Shot inspired by this]

➤ Showering with Spencer

➤ (NO SMUT EDITION)

It'll take Spencer a long time to get to the point of showering with you. He doesn't rush things, takes things slow.

But once you two have laid the groundwork and go steady, he becomes so clingy. He is 100% touch starved, so you know he’ll be all over you.

At some point in the relationship, you'll end up showering together. Maybe you just had sex, or you are rushing to get somewhere, and it's just quicker.

It’s Spencer, so I can also imagine he was so busy info-dumping that he just followed you onto the shower.

This moment unlocks a new level of closeness in the relationship, and Spencer will beg you to shower with him. The way you wash his hair, the giggles when you spray water into his face?

At the end, he’ll smell like peaches (or whatever your conditioner smells like) and he absolutely loves it.

He never had a relationship where he could become vulnerable and settle into domestic bliss, so you know he’s already in heaven... And he wants you to feel this fulfilled & happy as well.

So:

Talk about hair: He’s a white boy with curls. It’s not that hard to care for him.

BUT when it comes to your hair (no matter your hair texture), HE IS ON TOP OF IT. Whenever you’re showering together and you wanna wash your hair: He is doing it.

He put in the effort to learn. The first couple of times, he just watched and observed. When he began trying his hand at it, he double-checked with you about everything he did to your hair.

Now he is a pro. He can do your hair routine blind.

Showering with Spencer is something so lovely. He has this way with you that just makes you melt into a floaty headspace without shame.

You shower with him when he had a tough day or case. And should you have a bad day, headspace all cloudy and full of insecurity and self-hate, he’ll hold you under the warm shower, hands caressing everything you struggle with like its fragile gold.

You (and all the flaws that make you human) are beautiful to him.

Your body is beautiful to him. It doesn't matter if you have scars, stretch marks, a muffin top, boobs aren't perfect, butt isn't juicy, everything’s too much, but nothing is in shape... IT DOESNT MATTER.

Gain weight, lose weight... Who cares? He fell in love with you, not your body.

When Spencer loves you, he loves you — And that’s that.

So yeah... Showering with Spencer > Everything else.

#spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #black!reader #spencer reid x plussize!reader #plusize!reader #spencer reid x ​black!reader #spencer reid #reader insert #spencer reid x fem!reader

[sreidisms]

Let Me Ease Your Worries

Spencer Reid × Midsize!Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer finds it hard to understand when you need reassurance. When you tackle the topic, he wants to show you just how much he loves your body (smut with plot).

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: negative self talk, body dysmorphia (may be sensitive for people with ED experiences), swearing, kissing, nudity, oral sex (f!receiving), intimate touching (Spencer and reader touch each other's genitalia briefly), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie.

A/N: This is the first smut fic I've posted in literal years, so be patient as I edited this super quickly 🙏 there's no real sub/dom dynamic although there are moments where Spencer is on the subbier side. Although this is listed as midsize!reader, plusize!readers are also welcome, I just thought certain descriptions wouldn't fit the exact experience of a plus-size person.

Spencer was the smartest person you had ever met. IQ of 187 with 3 PHDs and 2 BAs under his arm deemed him an academic weapon. He was an expert when it came to statistics and basically everything else that piqued the genius’ interest. Literature and texts were no match for him as he whizzed through them at lightning speed, each glyph sticking to his brain in a lifelong bond.

With all his knowledge, it wouldn’t be unrealistic to assume there was nothing Doctor Spencer Reid could not achieve - except being able to comprehend the fact you needed constant reassurance, that is.

You had been dating the boy wonder for two years and it was safe to say you had never felt happier or luckier. He was sweet and caring, yet timid; but that didn’t stop him from worshipping the ground you walked on. Spencer thought he was subtle about it, but he clung to you like a lost puppy - he was hopelessly in love.

Thus, it was near impossible for the young man to think that there was ever a doubt in your mind that you weren’t the most beautiful girl to him.

Self-confidence was never your forte. Your childhood and teenage years were spent focusing on school rather than boyfriends and first kisses. Not that you wouldn’t have liked to. The opportunity just never revealed itself before Spencer - and you blamed that on your body. A soft, friendly face had no effect when paired with your round stomach and filled-in hips and thighs.

Spencer hadn’t actually realised you were insecure about yourself, because why would you be? All he saw was a natural beauty and happiness gleaming off of you.

So when the time came where your insecurities got the best of you, your boyfriend wasn’t the exact blueprint of awareness. Ever the oblivious boy, he couldn’t figure out why there were days when you went quiet or didn’t reciprocate his affection as much. Being a profiler at the BAU should have made him better at this, you thought.

That was until you had a particularly harsh day after work. With long shifts at the bookshop and days spent apart from Spencer because of his job, you were mentally exhausted. At 5.30pm, you shoved the key into your front door and sighed, happy at last to be home. A tired Spencer clad in red checkered pyjama pants and a Caltech t-shirt was sprawled on the sofa. He had messaged you a few hours before that the case had closed and he was returning home for the rest of the weekend.

He flashed you his signature toothy grin and got up from his comfortable place amongst the cushions and blanket, padding across the wooden floor in his cute purple and red socks.

“Hi,” he spoke softly as he leaned down to give you peck on your cheek. “I missed you.”

You smiled and nodded, reaching for his hand and rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “Missed you too.”

Despite knowing each other for five years, you were both still shy in the other’s presence. You had had the occasional make out session and even managed to share a few nights tangled amidst the sheets after mustering up the courage. Nonetheless, you acted as if you had only been dating for a month.

After kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag on the floor, you plopped on the sofa in your usual corner, resting your head on the back.

Spencer remained by the front door, standing awkwardly and playing with the fingertips of his right hand. He looked utterly adorable with his pyjama bottoms loose at his hips and his t-shirt sliding off a shoulder - but his eyes hid something flickering behind them.

The sound of him clearing his throat resonated around the room and you looked upwards. Spencer opened his mouth to say something and then quickly shut it.

“What’s wrong? You’re gaping like a fish.”

You giggled and he smiled in return, letting out a light-hearted sigh.

“Is something up? You … you didn’t kiss me like you usually do when I’ve been away on a case.”

And he was right. It was like a routine to jump into his arms and cover him with kisses every time you were apart. But today you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling looming over you: that you were less than he deserved, both in actions and looks.

You didn’t want to display your worries so openly, so you beckoned him to come over with a stretch of your arm and a weak smile, holding his face between your palms once he neared. You craned your neck and placed a soft kiss on his cracked lips.

“I’m sorry, Spence - nothing’s up, just tired.”

Spencer quirked his head to the side as he looked down at you, the profiling cogs in his brain turning to read the expression on your sullen face.

“On average, women tell three lies to their partners and co-workers daily - and I can tell you’re lying.”

You rolled your eyes, avoiding his gaze to escape the intimidating and unblinking look he sported when trying to guess what was going on in your head.

“You’re annoying when you’re smart, do you know that?”

He knew you were teasing him and he chuckled, shaking his head before sitting down next to you. He hovered his hand over your thigh before setting it back down in his lap; outright displays of affection were still a guessing game for Spencer, never knowing if you wanted his touch or not, or if it was the right course of action.

“It comes in handy when I know you’re worried about something. You gave a vague answer, you avoided eye contact, and you scratched your neck before answering. All of those factors, especially self-grooming and self-soothing behaviours, are signs that one is lying.”

Although often a blessing, Spencer’s intellect was a curse when you tried to hide your anxieties.

“Just a bad self-image day, darling.”

Only confusion spread across your boyfriend’s face.

“What do you mean? You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“Because I didn’t need to before. I just …” You paused. “Not feeling very good about myself. About how I look.”

It should’ve been easy for him to understand what you were getting at, but he looked completely lost.

“I don’t follow.”

You shifted to better look at him and crossed your legs underneath you, Spencer mirroring your position. Somehow, you had to explain what insecurity felt and looked like to this supposed all-knower of things.

“Sometimes Spence, I don’t feel very confident in how I look. In how I am perceived.”

Spencer looked at his hands for a few moments before looking up and saying, “61% of adults express negative thoughts regarding their physique, but I wouldn’t think you’d showcase that. Did something trigger this?”

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to shield your body from his strong stare.

“I feel like maybe … I don’t deserve you, like I should look better for you, be prettier.”

Spencer’s mouth fell slightly agape, the first time he had been rendered speechless all evening. His eyes seemed empty, searching for the next thing to say to an answer he never expected leaving your mouth.

“What do you mean prettier? You’re my girlfriend, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he said this with a slight tremble in his voice which indicated disbelief.

“You just say that because you have to.”

If he was puzzled before, now he was completely dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand where you’re going with this. No one forced me to say that.” He went silent for a second. “Covering one’s body with their arms is an attempt at shielding oneself, thus indicating fear and insecurity.”

Spencer wasn’t sure if he gave you a reason to feel insecure about yourself. Sure, he wasn’t the best person at expressing his love through words and physical affections, but to him it was undeniable that he adored you.

“Why do you feel insecure about yourself? Did I say something or imply that I don’t want you?”

The opportunity to speak up about the deep-rooted hatred you had for your physique had never surfaced until now. It was a situation you weren’t too keen on taking, even though you wished he’d asked about it earlier.

“No, no at all, you didn’t say anything! You’re nothing but kind to me.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows, urging you to continue.

“I feel like my body shape isn’t ideal and one day you’re going to realise that and leave me.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out all at once: a breath, a tumble of words, two years’ worth of worries and unsaid thoughts out in a matter of four seconds.

A tense silence blanketed the room, the small distance between you feeling larger than ever. It was difficult to decipher the expression on the boy’s face: his eyebrows furrowed deeply as he often did when he couldn’t grasp something and his mouth shaped itself into a sad pout. Spencer stuttered before speaking.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean I’d leave you? I- I- “

“Spencer, I’m fat.”

That was it, that’s what you had been implying all this time, what you ached to confess. His eyebrows went back into place, straight as a line.

“Actually, when it comes to measuring one’s weight in accordance to their height, you’re at a healthy weight. Although the BMI scale was used as a way to calculate this in the past, it has been deemed inaccurate because-”

“Spencer, stop! I don’t care about facts, I feel ugly and I’m scared you’re going to realise that!”

You huffed, the strand of hair which had fallen across your face flying out of the way. You rubbed your hands across the expanse of your thighs, squeezing your knees. Spencer’s erratic hand movements and scientific explanation were halted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout,” you said more calmly.

It was clear he didn’t know what to say. You had never interrupted him mid-rant, you always reassured him you were more than happy to listen. He made a scratching sound at the back of his throat, shifting his eyes down before meeting yours again, his cheeks now flushed in embarrassment.

“I think you’re beautiful. I always have.”

The comment hit a sore point in yourself. Beautiful. A word only your boyfriend had ever told you; and well, your parents, but that was a different scenario. It felt foreign, like you were taking something that didn’t belong to you.

“Spence, please, you don’t have to say that-”

“I mean it. I truly mean it.” You could tell he was being honest because of his gentle voice and wide eyes. “I don’t lie about these things. I look at you and I see someone I love, and that someone happens to be beautiful in my eyes. Nothing about you could push me away, I’d be crazy to do so. You’re stuck with me forever.” He smiled softly, trying to ease the tension in the air.

His words were sweet, but not sweet enough to dissolve your doubts.

“But you work with women who are so much prettier than I am.” You paused and said the next part quieter. “Thinner than I am.”

“Yeah, I know that. And?” That wasn’t the response that would exactly help.

“And! And, Spence! Thinner is prettier.”

“Actually, aesthetics are subjective-” You glared at him before he could continue his next statistical lesson.

He nodded, playing with his fingertips again - a habit he had developed in order to collect his thoughts.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were prettier than anyone else I had ever met. I liked how your clothes hugged you, the way your shirts and sweaters settled around your torso. I liked that pants and skirts looked a certain way on you, because your hips and thighs made them stretch out. I still hold those views.”

He lifted his head to utter the last part.

“If what you’re implying is that because you don’t have a flat stomach - the current beauty norm - I’m going to find you unattractive, then I’m going to have to ask you to re-evaluate your method of deduction, because I prefer your body over anyone else’s.”

That’s all you wanted to hear. “Thank you, sometimes I forget.”

Spencer took a few seconds to ponder before asking, “I’ve never told you that, have I? Like, out loud.”

You shook your head meekly, smiling at him to show that you weren’t angry. “No, not really.”

Now he understood. He had never expected that you needed to be told what he thought about you to know that he was crazy about your body, about you in general. Or that it needed to be repeated, or else you’d forget.

“Can you tell me when you’re feeling this way? I didn’t know you had these thoughts, you never told me. I assumed you just … knew that I found you attractive, always.”

Communication. This was new, but a step into the right direction.

“I’m sorry for never being open about it - I will from now on.”

The brunet placed his hand over yours, which had been resting on your knee for a while now.

“I really love you, I’m sorry I don’t say it a lot. I find the weight you’re at to be really appealing, although you don’t need my approval - weight has no correlation to the strength or amount of love one is capable of receiving.”

It was impossible not to kiss him: this perfect man sat in front of you in his home attire, messy strands and waves of hair surrounding his face, uttering the kindest words which were specifically directed towards you.

You grabbed his face between your hands once more and pressed a kinder, more loving kiss to his lips. Spencer further smooshed his face against yours, playing with the frayed ends of his pyjama bottoms to ground himself - that fluttery sensation in his chest when you kissed never went away after all this time together.

Once pulling back, you rested your forehead against his, blindly searching for his hands to take them into yours. You stayed like so for a while until your boyfriend whispered, “Can I try to show you how pretty I find you?”

You straightened your back in surprise. “Show me how?”

A faint blush tinted his cheeks as he traced the bumps of your knuckles with his forefinger. “I’m never the one to initiate this, but … I’d really like to be intimate with you. I-In bed.” His stuttering was nothing short of cute. Spencer wouldn’t be Spencer without being formal when it came to your sexual life.

“You want to have sex with me, is what you’re trying to say?” You couldn’t help but blush as well, at the fact the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes on wanted to be intimate with you; touch your body and make you feel good.

“Y-Yes, that’s what I mean. Precisely.”

“That’s the first time you ever proposed that yourself, y’know?” you teased, knocking your fist into his shoulder lightly. He chuckled and shrugged. “I try my best.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, shifting yourself onto your knees. “You can show me. Right here.”

And that was the go-ahead he needed.

He surged towards your lips, covering them in a clumsy but loving kiss, while he held your face in his large hands. A whimper escaped your mouth at the sudden movement, letting Spencer lay his weight on top of you after pushing your legs forward by pressing his fingers on the bend of your knees. Your thighs encapsulated him, a feeling which he never admitted to enjoying so much - until now.

“I really like …” He kissed you. “The way …” Another kiss. “Your thighs feel around me.” Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Your thighs tensed around his waist, tightening the grip around his body in response. Your hands moved from behind his neck to his back, rubbing them up and down in a soothing manner.

You could already feel Spencer softly rutting into you, his body flush against yours as he ground his half-hard cock into your inner thigh. You had never seen him so eager, always hesitant and embarrassed to make the first move, or take the lead.

But this was different. Although nervous, he wanted to show you how much you meant to him, how beautiful he thought you were, how your body drove him insane.

Spencer started kissing down your neck, finding the way to the sensitive spot between your neck and jaw. “I r-really like kissing you, because your skin is so warm,” he whispered near your ear. You whined, gripping his t-shirt in your fists as your hips cant forward.

You wanted to say so much, needed to. However, you were caught in the feeling of the brunet’s lips moving downwards, carefully pushing the buttons of your shirt through the slots as his open-mouthed kisses trailed across the top of your bra.

He finished unbuttoning your blouse and knelt down between your legs, cautiously placing his large palms over your clad breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. You could tell he was mindlessly ogling them, focusing on the way the flesh moulded into his touch, and this made your face heat up.

“I don’t t-think I need to explain how much I like your um …” He cleared his throat. “Y-Your chest.” He flicked his eyes upwards to meet yours, smiling bashfully - you bit your lip and nodded. Spencer took it as a sign to take off your bra, reaching his hands behind your back to unclasp it. The garment billowed and he quickly pulled it away before discarding it onto the floor.

His pupils dilated when he glanced at your breasts, all bare in front of him, only for him to see. You felt exposed and went to cover yourself with your arms before he grasped your wrists. “You’re beautiful, you don’t need to cover yourself.” His expression radiated warmth and comfort. I have to trust him, you told yourself. With hesitation, you set your arms aside and Spencer’s hands were instantly on your chest again, his fingertips digging into the supple flesh and leaving red dotted marks behind.

You squirmed underneath his touch as you felt so seen, so exposed. It was still hard to focus on the moment and let the boy you love so dearly show his attraction to you. It was always such a challenge to do so, but now more than ever because the little confidence you had had a minute ago slipped away from your grasp when he started to undress you.

You clenched your fists by your sides, looking anywhere but at Spencer as the anxiety bubbled at your sternum. Suddenly, your face was moved and you were looking at your boyfriend again, his palms warm against your already-blazing cheeks.

“Do you need to stop?” You shook your head, unable to speak.

Spencer bit his bottom lip in thought. “I know I don’t express it well, b-but I really am attracted to you. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re beautiful. We’ve done this before, h-haven’t we?”

You nod.

“Then trust me when I say I want to see all of you. I just want to …” He swallowed deeply. “Want to be close to you.”

In reality, you were both nervous and you knew that Spencer was probably just as self-conscious about his own body as you are about yours. With a deep sigh through your nose, you nod once more to tell him to continue.

His lips were back on yours and his hands moved down to grip your hips, squeezing the fatty tissue; you felt so undeniably soft, between his fingers and against his stomach.

You pawed at his t-shirt, signalling him to take it off. He clumsily pulled back and attempted to remove it in typical Spencer Reid fashion: his head got stuck and his right arm bent in the most uncomfortable manner. You snorted underneath your breath and helped him out by pulling the bottom of the shirt over his head.

“Are you that eager?” you teased, slowly easing into the atmosphere and finding comfort.

“I’ve literally been trying to tell you that,” he exclaimed with a huff and pulled your body down from your thighs, scooting himself down until his face is hovering over your stomach.

“Spencer, what are you-”

“Please, I just want to taste you”, he said with doe eyes, his fingers already on the button of your jeans.

You shifted your hips a little, now extremely aware of yourself and how your tummy looked from Spencer’s angle where he was situated between your thighs.

“I’m not sure, my stomach looks odd-”

“I’ve dreamt about having your stomach pressed against my forehead as I eat you out for the entire week I’ve been away, please just trust me.”

Your face heated up.

“Fucking vulgar, I thought you were a sweet boy.”

His face flushed in embarrassment at realising what just left his mouth. “Can we stop focusing on what I said and just let me get on with it?” You giggled and agreed with his statement.

In a few seconds, your jeans were slipped off your legs and Spencer’s nose was buried in your panties, nuzzling the faint wet spot in the middle of the fabric. Your breath hitched at the sensation as you tried to mentally convince yourself to enjoy the moment.

His index and middle fingers hooked around the edge of your underwear and moved it to the side, finally revealing your glistening pussy. He sighed and his eyes fluttered shut once his tongue met your slit for the first time in ages, dragging the muscle along your sex.

Your thighs shuddered around his head and you tried your best not to let out a sound. This was soon deemed useless once Spencer flattened his tongue against your clit, gently spreading your lips with his index fingers.

“Oh shit.”

Your brain already felt like mush - your hyper-sensitivity was something you were ashamed of, but it deeply pleased your boyfriend.

He hummed in approval of your comment, pushing his nose against your clit to slip his tongue into your entrance, basically tongue-fucking you at a slow pace. It contrasted the usual way he hastily lapped at your pussy and made a mess of the entire thing, getting drunk on your taste. This time, however, he was really trying to show you how much he worshiped your body, despite his shy demeanour.

It eventually got impossible to stifle your sounds, even if a hand was clamped over your mouth. Soft breaths and gentle moans floated around the room, while you subconsciously moved yourself against his face.

In order to get a better hold of you, Spencer hiked your legs over his shoulders after removing your panties and placed his hands on the smooth expanse of your tummy, tenderly kneading it. What you could only describe as butterflies, although cliché, erupted inside of you. You wanted to move his hands away, tell yourself that part of you was disgusting and unworthy of admiration, but the pleasure Spencer was giving you and the love radiating off of him stopped your worries.

He continued to suck on the raw skin and flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, every so often pushing his entire face into you and exhaling out of pure hunger. You loved how he always made sure you were enjoying yourself when he went down on you, how he showed no discomfort in having his mouth, nose, and chin buried between your legs and getting drenched in your arousal. And you knew how much messes rubbed him the wrong way, but he surely seemed to be relishing in making a mess of you.

You hadn’t noticed yet, but Spencer had been rutting his hips into the cushion of the couch for a while. He was aching to be inside you, to have your warm walls tighten around him; but your pleasure came first and foremost, especially since you were so concerned about him not being attracted to you - that was definitely not happening.

He whimpered into your cunt as he grew harder, his poor weeping cock restraining against the fabric of his boxers, his pants, and the surface beneath him.

“Fuck, I’m c-close”, you gasped, sooner than usual.

The comment sent Spencer into overdrive: he alternated between sucking harshly on your clit and spreading his tongue all over your lips and inside of you, just dying to have you cum on his face. One of his hands was still on your stomach, but the other was holding onto your waist tightly. All he wanted was to feel your soft flesh between his fingers, against any part of his body. Even the pudge of your stomach that you tried so desperately to hide drove him mad.

With one last lick to your clit, your orgasm hit you abruptly. Your hands fumbled until they found Spencer’s hair and tugged and pulled, pushing him deeper against your pussy as you soaked his face in arousal. You felt him groan as it vibrated against you, mirroring the way you were gasping for air and moaning out in pleasure. His arms were wrapped tightly around your thighs, using them to ground himself as he suffocated between them.

After a few more laden breaths, you relaxed your legs and loosened your grip on his hair. You peered down to see a blissed out Spencer resting his cheek against your inner thigh, his thumb drawing circles into your hip.

“I’m sorry about that,” you said with a laugh.

He hummed as he pushed himself upwards, subtly moving his crotch to settle against your pelvic bone for more friction.

“I should be saying thank you really.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, a thank you for what a wonderful job he had done. The taste of yourself lingered in your mouth.

Although you attempted to lengthen the kiss, he pulled back and heaved, “now please can I be inside you, I really need it so badly, it hurts.”

There was the usual needy and whiney boy you knew.

“Yes yes, I’m not going to leave you hanging, pretty boy.”

You swiftly pushed his pyjama bottoms down with his boxers and Spencer kicked them off to help. His length was hard against his pelvis, the tip all red and swollen after having nothing but humping the couch to help him get off. Gently, you wrapped a hand around the base and squeezed. That got a whine out of him, his jaw slack and still covered in your slick. You slowly dragged your hand up his shaft, tightening your grip as you neared the head and circled your thumb over his slit that was already spurting pre-cum.

“Please f-fuck, please just let me inside you, I’m already close to coming.”

“Already?” You raised your eyebrows teasingly.

“S-Shut up,” his voice wavered as he struggled to hold himself up, his hands planted on either side of your shoulders.

You let out a chuckle before letting go and resting your palm on his waist to encourage him. Nervously, he lined himself up to your entrance and tried his best not to push in all in one go. In his excitement and neediness, he missed and his cock slid up between your folds, his tip rubbing against your clit. You both exhaled.

“F-Fuck sorry, I just-” Spencer could hardly speak. His knuckles were turning white from the way he was holding the arm of the couch; he was dying to have you engulf him so he could place his hands all over your sweaty skin.

“It’s okay,” you breathed out. “Let me help.”

You reached down and grabbed his cock once again and pushed the head against your pussy. Spencer could already feel the heat emanating from you and it only spurred him on more.

With a little wiggle of his hips, he started to inch himself inside you. The warmth of your cunt gradually surrounded his dick. So warm, so wet is all he could think about.

You took him further by placing your hands on his ass and pushing. Once he was fully sheathed inside you, your boy genius could no longer think straight. All he wanted was to cum and tell you how much he loves the way you make him feel.

Hurting you or causing any pain was the last thing Spencer wanted, so he carefully pulled back until he was almost entirely out and then pushed in again with a quiet squelch.

“G-God, you feel so g-good,” he whined.

Honestly and truly, you hardly heard what he was saying because you were completely focused on how he was stretching you out so deliciously, mouth agape and eyes closed.

It didn’t take long before Spencer started to shallowly thrust into you, your gummy walls fluttering and spasming around his throbbing cock.

In an effort to be closer, Spencer laid on top you, chest to chest, and hid his face in your neck. His hands found a home in your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

Nothing could have felt any better than this: your lovely boyfriend making love to you, his nimble fingers caressing your body into a state of peace and bliss. And for him? Well, his girlfriend’s plush body pressed against his skinny figure was better than anything he could imagine.

You lazily ground into each other, whimpers and hot breaths leaving the both of you. Your hands were splayed across Spencer’s back, desperately keeping him as close as possible.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he whispered.

This man was a dream come to life and he was so sweet while being so.

You swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth before replying. “I love you too, a lot.”

He peppered kisses across your neck and traced your skin with his lips, leaving a layer of dew behind. In return, you left a few kisses on his shoulder when your head wasn’t tilted back in pleasure.

You were so tight around him and you felt so unbelievably full. Now, you weren’t going to say that Spencer had the biggest dick you could think of, but that wasn’t the point - you fit perfectly with each other and your pussy had basically moulded itself to fit snuggly around his length like a glove. You couldn’t imagine yourself having sex with anyone else, not that you wanted to anyways.

You moved your head to the side and kissed his cheek, moving a hand to rest amidst the mess of hair you loved so dearly. He had just shaved that morning so his stubble wasn’t there to scrape against your lips.

“I r-really love- oh fuck.” Speaking during intercourse wasn’t a skill Spencer had mastered as of yet. The feeling of his approaching orgasm had him reeling and he was mustering all the strength he had left to express how much he enjoyed your body and how it made him feel.

“I love … I love how you feel a-against me. You’re so soft and warm.” He gasped as he teetered on the edge.

“Your s-stomach and thighs and h-hips … God.” He hiccupped. It was hard to talk, his hands holding onto your waist.

“They’re all s-so … so soft. It drives me … insane, it- fuck drives me insane.”

Never had you felt so loved as you did at this very moment: enveloped in the arms of the boy you loved, skin-to-skin, whispering the most heartfelt words into your ear.

You wanted to reply, tell him that his words meant so much to you, but the way his tip was stamping into your sweet spot had stolen the breath out of your entire body. All you could do was gasp and let out moan after moan.

Spencer’s bony hips were smacking into the plush of your ass as he fucked into you deeper, his rhythm faltering as it all just became erratic.

“Gonna come,” Spencer whispered, as if he was asking for permission.

“Y-Yeah, go ahead,” you managed to mumble. And that’s all he needed.

With a high-pitched moan, he spilled into you as his hands moved around, just trying to grab any inch of you that he could, loving the feeling of the fat around your thighs and waist. I love you’s were muttered into your skin while his orgasm kept hitting him in waves. His hips stuttered as rope after rope of cum was milked from his tired cock, your cunt pulsating at the fact you were so close as well.

The brunet finally stopped thrusting after a while, going soft inside of you as his breathing slowed down.

“I love you too by the way,” you said quietly, scared to break the silence.

You could feel his smile on the side of your neck.

“You didn’t come yet,” he murmured before his hand found its way between your bodies, a thumb pressing onto your clit. Your body jolted in surprise.

“You really don’t h-have to, darling.”

“But I want to, want to make you feel good.”

You giggled. “You already have, silly.”

“Yeah, but you deserve more.” What an angel.

At least, you weren’t so far off from climaxing and thus a few tight circles helped you come for the second time that evening.

You laid on top of each other, not wanting to move from such a sweet embrace. Spencer had shuffled a little lower once he pulled out of you, not caring that his cum had started to ooze out of you and smear against his upper thigh, and rested his head on your chest. He couldn’t resist putting his hand on one of your boobs either.

“All that I said … it’s true,” he confessed. “I love you a lot and I think you’re pretty. And I love the parts you hate about yourself.”

You hugged him tighter, not sure how to express the appreciation you had for him. “Thank you, you don’t know how much you mean to me, Spence.”

He left a kiss on your collarbone before saying, “We need to get you cleaned up before you get a UTI. Do you know that up to six out of every ten women in the United States experience one?"

#writingreidisms #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #midsize reader #plussize reader

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x reader, Rossi is readers father, she is not part of the BAU, Curvy and much younger than Spencer at 26, loves how smart he is and likes to learn about facts she’s just not as smart, loves baking. Smut?? Maybe?? Thank you!

comfortable (spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader)

in which you & spencer discuss telling your dad, David Rossi, about your relationship

warnings: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! smut, smol age gap, fingering, praise kink, soft!dom Spencer, pet names

word count: 3658

A/N: thanks for this request 🥹 it was really fun and I think maybe a pt 2 where they actually tell Rossi could be a lot of fun, can you imagine the way Rossi’s eyes would bug out of his head 💀

He was standing in the doorway of your off-campus apartment with this goofy grin on his face. He was older than you - only by a few years, but still in an entirely different stage of life - and he worked with your dad, but you’d never felt butterflies like these before.

It felt like movie love. Like romance novel love, and not those cheesy paperbacks with the Fabio-type model on the front. But like the more modern ones, the ones with the cartoon people on the covers and the big, colorful block letters. You had about a hundred of them on your bookcase. You could go reference them right now if you really wanted to.

Spencer Reid blinked those big, brown eyes at you and your mouth flickered uncontrollably into a soft smile. “Your doorbell doesn’t work,” Spencer pointed out by way of greeting. He still had that goofy grin on his face as you stepped aside so he could come in. You locked the door behind him.

“Didn’t I tell you that?” You mused, turning around to face him. He’d been to your apartment before, but usually trailing after you. Never meeting you here. He shook his head.

Then he lifted the bouquet of flowers in his hands and your smile grew into a full-blown grin. “What’re these for?” You squealed, taking the bouquet and immediately raising them to your nose. Baby pink carnations. He remembered your favorite flower.

He remembered everything, you reminded yourself.

“They’re your favorites. You said they reminded you of your mom’s house,” Spencer said, then took one of those sharp breaths that told you he was about to bequeath upon you a boatload of information. You barely had time to swoon over the fact that he remembered why carnations were your favorite.

“Did you know that carnations were actually mentioned in literature as far back as Ancient Greece? The name is believed to come from the Latin corona - meaning crown or wreath, as it was one of the more common flowers used to make laurels and crowns,” Spencer rattled off.

“We should make flower crowns out of them,” you proposed with an excited giggle, walking past Spencer and into the small kitchen of your apartment. He chuckled and followed you, standing behind you as you took the plastic sleeve off the bouquet, holding the flowers over the sink so water wouldn’t get on the floor. “Oh,” you murmured, not realizing how thick the stalks of the flowers were. “We can’t tie these together,” you pouted.

Spencer’s hands found your hips as he stood behind you, his palms contouring to match your curves. His lips met the side of your head, between your temple and your hairline. “You could put them on your table?” He suggested.

You felt stuck with the dripping flowers in your hand and the overwhelming desire to turn around and kiss your boyfriend silly. “Vase,” you blurted out instead of speaking like a normal human being. Spencer made your brain turn into mush.

“Where?”

“Shelf by the fridge.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, but not before he gave them a gentle squeeze, as if to say I’ll be back soon. You turned your head to the side and watched as Spencer grabbed the vase off the shelf, returning to your side in moments to help you set the flowers in it.

This relationship was still very new. It had been about three months since you went out to lunch with your dad on some random Thursday, and he brought you back to work with him to introduce you to his team. It had been eight weeks since Spencer took you out for the first time - dinner and a walk around the nearest park, where Spencer had grabbed your hand for the first time, where he’d rambled off some fact about willow trees you couldn’t be bothered to remember because shortly after, he’d pressed his lips to yours and you’d made out underneath one.

He was away a lot, which was to be expected, given the nature of the BAU’s work. But he called you when he could, and he made every effort to see you when they weren’t on assignment. You couldn’t really talk with him about work - “it’s classified,” he’d always say with a thin-lipped smile, as if to say he’d really like to tell you, but he just couldn’t.

“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer asked as you floated from the sink to set the vase of flowers on the kitchen table. His voice always pulled you out of your own head.

“Nothing in particular, really,” you told him, turning to face him. Spencer reached a hand out and took yours, tugging you to him. “You, mostly,” you teased as his palms lay against your hips. “I think it might be time.”

“Time?” Spencer asked as he craned his neck down to kiss you, briefly, on the lips. So, his mind was obviously elsewhere.

“Time,” you confirmed. “To tell my dad. About us.”

Spencer pulled his head back so he could look at you properly, his fingers dug into the soft, sensitive flab above your hip bones, and you scrunched your nose up because it tickled, resisting the urge to giggle. “You do, do you?” He asked, a playful smile crossing his lips. “And here I thought you enjoyed the secrecy.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I hate it,” you laughed breathily. “I hate lying to my dad.”

“For the record, we haven’t lied about anything,” Spencer pointed out. “We’ve just withheld information. It’s entirely different.”

That was true, you supposed. When your dad asked you last week at your monthly dinner at his house if you were seeing anyone, you just nodded and told him you weren’t ready to tell him about it yet, and he respected that. You didn’t not tell him it was his coworker.

“I guess so,” you replied, your lips pursing into the corner of your mouth.

To Spencer’s credit, the whole keeping-it-from-your-dad thing was your idea. You’d done it for a multitude of reasons - mostly so you could figure out if this thing with Spencer was going to go anywhere before your dad was in the loop, so you could go with Spencer at your own pace, get to know him without any third-party interventions.

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. It’s not anything to feel guilty about. Yeah?” Spencer reminded you, lifting one of his hands from your hips to curl his index finger and tuck it under your chin. He guided your gaze to meet his. “You’re an adult, and you can see whoever you want to see. When and if you tell Rossi is entirely up to you.”

“I know,” you nodded, sighing softly, your arms lifting and reaching up to wind around his neck. Spencer’s lips broke out in a soft smile at the action. “Isn’t it weird for you at work, though?”

“Not really?” Spencer phrased it as a question, shrugging his shoulders a little bit. “There’s never really time for personal conversation when we’re on a case, and if there is, I usually just deflect to someone else. Although, there was a close call while we were on our way back this last time,” he began, the hand under your chin dropping and moving back to your hip, guiding you back so you were flush against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, god, what happened?” You asked as you hopped up so your rear splayed out atop the counter, and Spencer moved to stand between your legs. Despite the lack of gap between your thighs, Spencer’s lanky frame fit comfortably between them. His fingers spread palm-side down against the tops of your thighs. You were biting your lip as your boyfriend continued with his story.

“I guess I was grinning down at a text you’d sent me, the one about your Short Fiction Analysis exam,” he explained, referring to one of the classes you were taking this term. “You’d said you thought Shirley Jackson was underrated, that The Lottery was one of your favorite short stories ever and you would stone anyone who disagreed,” you snickered at this, and Spencer’s hands slid just slightly further up your thighs. “That was the same reaction I had,” Spencer pointed out with a small laugh. “And Rossi’d been the one to catch it. He said that my expression was one that could only be caused by a beautiful woman.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. That sounded like your dad, all right. “And what did you say?” You asked, willing the blush in your cheeks to go away. Spencer knew already that he made you feel like you were on fire with just a simple touch, but still. Your lack of experience and the fact that you were younger than him, still in college… it always made you feel even more flustered.

“I said I could neither confirm nor deny,” Spencer laughed self-deprecatingly, rolling his eyes at himself. “And then I changed the subject. I pulled Derek in the conversation and asked him about his girlfriend.”

“Very strategic,” you commented with a bob of your throat.

“But if you want to tell him, and you think you’re ready, then I think we should,” Spencer added, and you smiled just slightly at this.

“Okay,” you smiled hazily, just as Spencer bent down to kiss you. His hands traveled to the waistband of your sweatpants and your breath hitched in your throat.

“This okay?” Spencer asked just as his long fingers curled around the waistband on either side of your hips.

You’d pulled the sweatpants all the way up over your belly button, and your tummy was incredibly ticklish. So your voice was breathy and shaky when you responded. “Mmhm.”

“If it’s not, you need to tell me,” Spencer reminded you in a low whisper, his lips planting along kissing your neck, each one tacky like a postage stamp.

“It’s okay,” you reiterated, forcing your voice to sound more full. Your hands had moved to lay flat against his chest, but now your fingers curled around the crinkly fabric of his blue dress shirt. You’d never dated anyone who dressed so grown up before. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Spencer murmured as his lips traveled up to your chin. He was mapping out your entire face jawline with his lips, until finally your mouths met. He was slow and intentional at first, like he was savoring it, probably making observatory notes in his head. When his tongue teased your lips apart, you allowed him in, a small whimper escaping you.

You had scooted forward on the countertop, squeezing Spencer’s body between your thighs. Your toes curled as one of Spencer’s hands lifted to cradle the back of your head, holding your face to his like an oxygen mask. And he kept breathing you in, his tongue expertly dancing with yours, kissing you so that when he finally pulled back, you couldn’t breathe.

You were panting, your whole face red as Spencer’s hand moved from the back of your head to one of your full cheeks. His thumb swiped across your cheek and the corners of his mouth just flickered upward. “I really missed you,” he whispered, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. His other hand still rested on the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping beneath it and padding around your stretch marks.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured back, and Spencer just smiled at this lazily. “Do you… do you want to…”

Spencer’s smile slowly turned into a patient smirk. “Do I want to what?” He asked all-knowingly, his eyes meeting yours. Your cheeks flushed again, bashful and embarrassed to even ask him.

“Do you want to go to my bed?” You exhaled, and Spencer’s head dipped to press a brief kiss to your lips.

“What makes you think I can’t take care of you right here?” He smirked, and the hand on your cheek floated back down to your waistband. “Can I please take your sweatpants off, pretty girl?”

Your breath stopped and you nodded. “Yeah, but… Spence?” You pressed the pads of your fingers into his chest. His gorgeous brown eyes met yours.

“What is it?”

“If you’re going to, like, you know, right here,” you began, your chest rising and falling slowly. “I just don’t think I can, like, spread my legs apart enough for you to…”

“Would you be more comfortable lying down, Y/N?” Spencer asked. What you loved was that he wasn’t impatient about it, he wasn’t annoyed. He could just tell you were having trouble articulating your concerns and he wanted to help. He was reading your mind - well, scientifically speaking, he was probably reading your behavior and your body language - but he just got it so quick.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sighing softly in relief that he understood.

“Then let’s lie you down,” Spencer agreed. He kissed you once more, briefly, stepped back, holding his hands out to help you off the counter. Your knees were weak for multiple reasons as you wobbled towards your bedroom, letting Spencer guide you so you were flat on your back, looking up at him. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer hovered over you. One knee outside your leg, the other very much in between them, his hands gripping your shoulders. Spencer craned down to kiss you again, as if a car had been jump started, and you were once again lost in it, unable to think about anything else but the man on top of you and how much you loved the way he touched you.

He wasn’t afraid of your body or how you’d react - rather, he seemed to find arousal in you being comfortable. His hands moved down to your waistband once again, obviously his fixation for the day, and he asked you again if it was okay that he remove your pants. You just nodded and told him, “yes.”

Even though the word had come out softly and raspy, in the back of your mind, you were screaming for the love of god, yes. If you stop touching me, I might commit heinous crimes.

Soon your pants were off, with some strategic shimmying over your hips and thighs, and you watched with a slightly amused expression as Spencer tossed them aside carelessly. He never did anything carelessly, so the action was a nice ego boost, knowing you could cause his system to glitch just as much as he could yours.

Spencer’s hands went back to your hips, sliding under the bottom hem of your t-shirt, inching closer to your breasts as your pelvis lifted, searching desperately for any kind of friction, your center making contact with Spencer’s knee between your legs. He dug his knee in a little further, your underpants acting as a thin divider.

“Can I take your shirt off, beautiful?” Spencer asked, and all the nerve endings in your face went numb.

“When are you gonna lose some clothes, pal?” You asked breathlessly, taken aback by your own sassiness. Spencer was too, but he laughed, a brimful sound that would have knocked you over if you weren’t already lying down.

Spencer’s laugh still lined his voice as he looked down at you. “I guess it’s only fair,” he chuckled. “Which would you-“

“Shirt,” you tugged at his collar pathetically, your fingers shaking as you tried to undo the buttons.

That stupid smirk rose on his face and Spencer kissed your nose teasingly before he took his hands in yours. “Need me to get those for you?” He asked, and you nodded. Deftly, his fingers worked the buttons until the shirt was shrugging off his shoulders. You watched with your mouth hung ajar like a garden gate.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Spencer bent down at his waist again to continue his cartographic exploration of your neck and jaw, his kisses feather light and so, so frustrating. His hands slid up your shirt again, gliding smoothly over your supple skin, his fingertips tracing your stretch marks. “Now that we’re on a level playing field,” Spencer said between kisses. “Can I please take off your shirt?”

A sound escaped you, a combination of breathy laughter and a desperate whine. “Yeah,” you murmured. Your hands moved to run through his perfect hair. It was so soft, so clean. How did he have time to keep it so clean? Your fingertips dug at his scalp as Spencer’s knee dug once again into the space between your legs. You groaned as Spencer guided you to lift your torso so your t-shirt could be tugged off over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, and you felt your cheeks redden. He kissed your lips, his swollen and plump against yours as his hands traveled down. He swung the knee that was in between your legs over so that he fully straddled you now. He seemed to want to be everywhere - your breasts, your stomach, your lips, between your legs. It was like he couldn’t decide.

“What do you want, Spence?” You asked him, and Spencer’s eyes snapped to yours. Your tongue jutted out to moisten your lips.

“What do I want?” Spencer repeated, looking at you with an incredulous expression. “I want to make you feel good, angel. Do you want me to do that for you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“God. Yes.” You huffed. Spencer’s mouth was on yours in an instant, kissing you repeatedly as his hand traveled down. Hovering over your underwear, Spencer’s thumb pressed against your fabric-covered center and you felt him groan, the sound reverberating through your mouth.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he observed and your back arched instinctively, needing him.

“Spence,” you rasped.

“Say it again,” Spencer’s eyes met yours and his brow arched just as you felt him dip his index and middle fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Please, Spencer,” you managed to get out.

“That’s it,” he smirked, kissing your lips once as a reward before sliding your underpants down your thighs. You lifted your legs and he helped you out of them, tossing them aside like they were just collateral damage. His index finger was quick to tease at your folds, and you wondered if he had been thinking about this all day. “Open your legs a little bit more for me, angel,” he instructed.

You succumbed to his request almost instantly, and when Spencer’s finger rubbed against your clit, you had to bite back a moan. “What have I told you about holding back?” Spencer chastised you, and your eyes locked onto his. “I told you, don’t ever muffle yourself, baby. I want to hear every noise.”

“Spencer…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Don’t you dare.”

“That’s my girl,” Spencer smirked, and began to pump his two fingers into you. Your legs began to close on instinct, but Spencer’s other hand pushed your hair out of your eyes. “Keep ‘em open, beautiful,” he said patiently, his fingers increasing exponentially in speed. “You hear how wet you are?”

“Mmm,” was all you could say as the filthy, wet sounds emitted from your middle.

“And that’s all for me, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you choked out as your hips bucked towards his fingers.

Spencer’s fingers were relentless as he fucked you with them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your vision going white and hazy from the pleasure, from your walls tightening around Spencer’s incredibly deft digits.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Just hang on a little longer, yeah?” Spencer cooed, his voice genuinely, tooth-achingly sweet, and you felt his lips beneath your ear. He kissed the skin there, and you felt him move his lips up to your earlobe, taking it briefly between his teeth. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he reiterated in a low whisper.

Your hands clawed desperately against his bare back for some iota of purchase, moving from his back to his hair, to his neck as he fucked you senseless. You were getting so close, whiny, needy little whimpers escaping you as Spencer continued to pump into you. And finally - finally - you reached your peak. Spencer didn’t let up, letting you ride your orgasm for as long as you could. Stars blurred your vision, and all you could see were those dark brown eyes looking so lovingly down at you.

And when you finally started to come down, Spencer’s movements slowed. He was never the type to immediately pull out. No, he merely turned down the intensity as you caught your breath, rubbing your clit gently as his fingers - soaked with you - slowly came out of you.

“How do you feel?” he asked as you panted, your eyes meeting his.

You opened your mouth to say something - anything, but no words came out. “Baby, use your words,” Spencer encouraged, and you huffed, frustrated with yourself, that you couldn’t say much of anything right now.

“G-good,” you whispered with a hoarse voice. Spencer used his clean hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Very good,” you added.

“Very descriptive,” Spencer teased with a smirk, and you were too ravished to play back.

You managed to prop yourself up on to your elbows just as Spencer moved off of you, laying down on his side so he could kiss your neck soothingly. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?” you breathed, turning so you were on your side, so you could face him.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered, and your eyes widened. You thought for a second he might be playing some sick joke, but then you looked in his eyes and saw how clear, how serious they were. Your lips flickered into a small, tired yet ridiculously happy smile. “You don’t have to say it back if you-“

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your lips meeting his in a long, slow, lazy kiss, feeling deliriously, stupidly happy.

——

A/N 2: I’ve never actually written smut before (I’ve read plenty lmfao) so if something is weird OR if you have any suggestions plzzzzz tell me I can take constructive criticism on this front xD

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x plus size reader #plus size reader #asks

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

masterlist! [ requests are also open! ]

SOOOO Happy you're here!

i'd love to hear from you! <3

wingwoman - (angst/ fluff) Spencer Reid x Fem!BAUReader ~ 5000 words

big hands - (angst/fluff) Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader ~ 1500 words

shaking - (angst/fluff) Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader ~ 2500 words

safer to kiss - part 1 ~ 2800 words - part 2 ~ 3200 words - (angst/fluff) Spencer Reid x Fem!BAUReader

round table - (fluff) Spencer Reid x gn!reader ~ 1500 words

NSFW

comfortable (fluff/smut) spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader ~ 3600 words

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x plus size reader #Spencer Reid x fem!Bau!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert