Latest Posts by g4rvez-r3id - Page 5

Naughty Boy

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Unit Chief! Fem Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer are trying to have a little fun in secret until Emily walks in… Spencer decides to make it a little more interesting underneath your desk.

Category: Smut

Warnings: established relationship, power dynamics, reader and spencer keep their relationship private so it’s a bit of forbidden love trope, kissing, smut warnings: lowkey sub!spencer, and also lowkey perv!spencer, spencer has a boner, straddling, stroking, cunnilingus, getting caught, exhibitionist kink? fingering, cumming in pants, use of ‘sweet boy’, ‘good boy’ and ‘naughty boy’, spencer lowkey pathetic- idk that should cover it

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! lowkey this one kinda sucked but i wanted to write a smut oneshot 🤭 got this idea watching a sitcom lmao anyways post prison sub spencer supremacy 🛐 debating on writing a part two to this one where reader punishes spencer hehehe let me know! please enjoy this one!! <3

A lot of changes happened since you’d become unit chief of the BAU. It wasn’t your intention of becoming unit chief but Emily Prentiss believed otherwise. She passed down the tassel to you since you’d had so much experience on this team for years. And she also knew Hotch would’ve wanted it, too.

After Barnes tried to take the BAU down, Emily was given back her job and hiring authority. Feeling as if you’d earned the spot, she promoted you. Of course, you were a little anxious taking charge at first but Emily assured she’d stay every step of the way and even offered to take over when you felt the power to be a bit too much.

You and Spencer’s relationship had become more balanced since he got back from prison and you felt the need to keep your relationship under wraps for as long as possible. Nobody knew you two were together, you both were very careful when it came to your relationship. You’d only been dating for a year and a half since he got back from prison where he’d finally confessed his undying love for you and that he’d show you just how much he loved you when he got out.

You’d both been pining after each other for years before the fact. And since then every moment you’d shared together has been wonderful, despite keeping it hidden from your colleagues. It was for the better, especially now that you were a higher power. If it wasn’t strictly forbidden before, it definitely was now that you were unit chief.

You were lucky that you’d chosen someone that was usually good at keeping secrets. You both never arrived to work together, you both left work at separate times and only ever spoke in a professional manner to one another. Of course, nothing too far as to not speaking to each other entirely. You were surprised that no one had suspected a thing for the year and a half you’d been together.

Today, you were in your office, filing everyone’s paperwork and signing off on them one by one. You’d just finished JJ’s when there was a knock on your door. “Come in.” You spoke and behind the door had been your loving and doting boyfriend.

“This a bad time?” Spencer asked as he waited for your okay to come in. “No, no, not at all. Come in.” You smile and turn towards your already closed blinds. If you hadn’t already closed them, it definitely would’ve looked suspicious if you closed them now.

As soon as he shut your door, you stood up from your seat with a sly smirk and walk over to him. “So, what can I do you for?” You ask. “Oh, nothing, I just—” Spencer rests his hands on your hips. “I just missed you.”

You smile as you hold him close. It’d been a minute since you had a moment together. Cases were often disrupting already what little time you two had together.

“I missed you too, my love.” You say, looking into his eyes with a loving smile. “Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight? I’m working on the paperwork now so I won’t have to stay here too late tonight.” You suggest and he smile right back at you. “I’d like that. We could use a date night.”

You pull him closer to kiss you on your lips and as you pull him flush against your body, you feel it. It’s definitely unmistakable that he’s hard in his pants.

“Uh, baby?” You ask, pushing him a bit. “Yeah?” He asks as he leans his head down towards his collarbone. “Are you… hard just from a few kisses?” This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten an erection just from a few simple kisses from you. He pretty much gets turned on by anything you do. And you secretly love it.

“I can’t help it, Spencer admits into your neck. “You’re gorgeous.”

You blush at his words and smile, “Aw, thank you, my love.” His mouth stays on your neck, sucking on your pulse point. You pull him towards your chair and push him into it, getting on top of him and straddling him with a smirk etched on your face as you lean down and kiss him on his lips.

He tries to speak into the kiss, pushing you away for a brief moment. “Wait, wait, wait.” He says and you look down at him, your index finger tapping on his plump pink lips, staring down at them. You had a bit of an oral fixation when it came to Spencer Reid. Whether it was for yourself or for him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. “I just don’t want us to get caught, that’s all.” Spencer stated and you smile, “I know, sweet boy. But you let me worry about that, okay? Right now, I just want to take care of my boy.”

You run your hand towards the front of his slacks and palm his hard cock through his pants. He moans a little too loud and you are quick to clasp your free hand over his mouth. “If we want to this to work, you’re gonna need to be a good boy and be quiet, okay?” He nods vehemently into your palm.

You stroke him a few more times through his pants and you check and see that your sweet boy’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head. You wonder how long you can keep him on the edge, how long you can make this until he’s shouting that he can’t take it anymore, how much he’ll—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You and Spencer look at each other in horror before you quickly usher him underneath your desk and fix yourself up to the best of your ability, sitting in your seat. Surely, you could’ve explained that Spencer was just in here for a moment but you acted quickly and couldn’t risk whoever was coming in to talk to you to see what you two were doing. You two didn’t exactly have the best poker faces in the world.

“Come in.” You say, attempting to sound as normal as you can. The door opens and in walks Emily. “Hey, Y/n. Care if we talk for a moment?”

“Of course, come right in.” Emily nods, shutting the door behind her and sitting in the chair in front of your desk.

As Emily begins to talk with you about your most recent case paperwork and begins on giving you pointers on how to handle it quickly, Spencer is crouched underneath your desk and he has a perfect view up your skirt.

You’re too distracted with Emily being in the room to feel how his hands — his gorgeous hands — glide up and down your calf and they begin to reach in a higher place and you flinch as his nimble fingers touch your underwear.

Your eyes widen as Emily furrows her brows at you and seems to notice you’ve flinched. “Are you alright?” She asks and you nod, “Oh, yeah, super. Just too fidgety today,” You hold up your mug. “Too much coffee.”

Emily continues her advice as you feel Spencer removing your underwear down your thighs. You don’t see how he stuffs them in his pocket. He bunches your skirt to the best of his ability and you look down just for a brief moment to see that he’s become in a trance as he gawks at your wet pussy.

You’re so lucky that your desk is too high up for Emily to see what you two are doing. This is so wrong. You should definitely try and stop him but the fact that he could be caught underneath your desk — it just turns you on even more. Who knew you were such an exhibitionist?

“Another thing that I recommend that you do is—” You hardly listen to Emily as you try your best to give your undivided attention to her but it’s really difficult when the man you love is underneath your table, lapping at your pussy with his useful tongue.

You feel everything as he begins to suck on your clit and sticks his fingers into your hole and you try your best to keep a straight face. You bite your lip and try and keep yourself as hunched over as you can to not draw suspicion.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emily asks, once more. “Uh, yeah,” Your cheeks redden. “I’m… just not feeling very…” You feel as he rolls his tongue in a figure-eight on your bundle of nerves. “Well at the… the moment.”

“If you need to go home, I can take over the rest of the day.” Emily offers and you think about it. You definitely need the time to punish your sweet boy for being needy and impatient, so maybe going home would be a good idea.

“Uh, that’s probably a good idea.” You say. “Why don’t you let the rest of the team know?” Emily nods and leaves the room and you wait for the door to shut to finally gasp and whimper.

As Emily exits the room, she walks away from the door and shudders. Yeah, she knew what the hell was happening. The team pretty much knew you two were together already. You guys didn’t have the best poker faces in the world.

“Oh, you naughty boy.” You back your seat up a bit as you run your hands through his hair. He takes his mouth off of you for a second to breathe. “I like seeing you in an authoritative position. It’s sexy.” With that, he dives back in, running his tongue through your folds again.

You take your hand through his locks, pushing him impossibly deeper into your pussy. “Oh, my God!” You exclaim softly, eyes rolling back as he finishes you off. “Come on, cum for me. Please. Please. Baby, please.” He pleads in your pussy, moaning and sending vibrations through your body as he sticks his fingers back inside.

You bite your lip to contain your moans in your office and you feel yourself gush over his face and look at him, his eyes blown with lust and love. “Did I do good?” Spencer asks, wiping his mouth of your essence and you smirk.

“You did.” You admit. “Now, that Emily’s gone, maybe I should finish what we started.” Spencer looks down and shakes his head, “No, I, uh, actually don’t need help with that anymore.”

You furrow your brows, look down and sure enough, Spencer’s slacks are a shade darker near his crotch. You should’ve expected this, he’d cum at the slightest touch.

“Somebody definitely wants to get punished tonight.” You tease, dragging a finger to his chin and he holds his arms up in surrender. “Hey, sorry I wanted to look good for my boss.”

You shake your head with a chuckle. He can be so impossible sometimes.

So, you tell him to exit the office as discreetly as he can with his blazer over his crotch to hide the evidence and to call in for the rest of the day, making an excuse that there’s a bug going around so you can edge him for hours on end when he gets to your apartment.

this is what i imagine for switch!spencer like mans is pathetic but will also eat you alive 🤭

trying hard not to get into trouble (but i’ve got a war in my mind) - s. r.

in which your criminology professor is just too tempting. 3359 words.

switch!spencer x switch!fem reader, questionable age gap & power dynamic, mild exhibitionism, authority kink, brief choking, praise, semi-public sex, oral (f and m receiving), mild degradation, no use of y/n

Your bare thighs stick uncomfortably to the plastic lecture hall chair, and you shift in your seat. Still, you focus diligently on the lecture, or, more specifically, on your professor. Dr. Reid is your favourite kind of challenge, a man you can’t have, the kind who won’t compromise his morals no matter how much he wants you — or, thinks he won’t.

You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on you just a second too long, flickers down to your chest before he catches himself. Toying with him is the highlight of your week, coming up with new ways to torture him, push his boundaries as far as you can before he snaps. The semester is drawing to a close, though, and you haven’t quite snared your pretty professor yet, so you’re having to resort to drastic measures.

It’s like he’s deliberately avoiding you, eyes sliding over you as if you’re not even there. You hope that means your barely-there outfit is working as intended. Dr. Reid refuses to call on you to answer a question, stuttering through his sentences and raking his hand through his unkempt curls. You wonder if they’re soft to the touch, if he likes having them pulled, if— Focus. You raise one hand, digging through your bag with the other. When his attention is finally on you, you spout off some stupid question that’s believable enough not to arouse suspicion; he sees right through it, though, knows the ruse.

Out of politeness, Dr. Reid keeps his focus on you as he speaks. His words come out rapid-fire as if he’s trying to escape you before you do any more damage. It only makes him stumble more, and his struggle is frankly adorable. His reaction as you wrap your lips around a cherry-flavoured sucker is audible, a hitch in his breath and a waver in his voice as you smile innocently around the candy. From then, he can’t take his eyes off you, watching your red-stained tongue lap at sticky sugar, fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

You’ve got him right where you want him.

Leaning back in your chair, you smirk slightly, wait to draw his attention. When he meets your gaze, you spread your legs, give him a deliberate eyeful of the tiny scrap of lace between them. At that, you physically see him snap, rail against the constraints of his moral compass, finally, gloriously give in. A thrill skitters up your spine as he stops in front of your desk. “See me after class,” he murmurs, jaw clenched.

“Yes, Professor,” you breathe, licking your lips as your thighs clench under the table.

You linger as your class lets out, carefully reapplying your lipgloss while you wait for the room to empty. When you’re finally alone, you approach his desk cautiously. “You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?” you say delicately, suddenly uncertain — you might just be in for the reprimand of your life, and that’s no fun for anyone.

“If you’ll just come with me to my office,” he says tightly, staring resolutely past you as he stands from his desk. Desire pools under your skin, your every nerve alive with tension as Dr. Reid lets you into his office. The sound of the lock clicking shut falls straight between your thighs — that’s when you know you’ve got him. You sit demurely in his armchair, legs crossed as he puts as much distance between the two of you as possible, standing across the room with his arms folded protectively across his chest. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my classroom.”

You smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” you say, putting on a wide-eyed, naive look you’re sure he won’t fall for. Unconsciously, he steps towards you. 

Dr. Reid’s gaze is unreadable. “Really? That little stunt with the sucker, I— I know what you’re doing, and it has to stop, okay?” he says, and, oh. He’s the one pleading with you.

It makes sense, once you think about it. You know he used to be an FBI agent; a dangerous, high-stress job like that, it’s no surprise he’d want to shut off, hand over the control, be taken care of, entrust his pleasure entirely to someone else. “Why would I stop?” you pout. He’s close enough now that you could reach out and touch him. “I’m having so.” You take Dr. Reid’s tie delicately between your fingers. “Much.” You pull him in gently. “Fun.” You tug sharply on his tie, hard enough that he stumbles, bracing his hands on the arms of your chair.

He lets out a shaky gasp, like he’s expecting you to unhinge your jaw and swallow him whole. “This is… The, uh…” He clears his throat. “The way you’re acting in my class is not appropriate, and it needs to stop,” he says. You’d almost call it firmly, if not for the near-imperceptible tremor in his voice.

You note that he hasn’t pulled away. “I don’t think you want me to stop, Professor,” you murmur. “I think you want me to stop teasing you, and you want me to give you what you want.” Your smile widens the longer he stays silent; searching for the words to refute you, but the lie won’t come. “Tell me what you want, Doctor Reid,” you purr.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “You aren’t… It’s not…”

“Look at me and tell me you don’t want this,” you breathe, catching his jaw so he can’t look away.

His mouth opens, but no words come out, speechless in a way you’ve never seen him. “I… I’m twenty years older than you.”

You grin. “And?”

“I’m your teacher,” he protests, nearly a whine, and oh, isn’t that a delicious sound.

“So?”

“So?” Dr. Reid repeats, incredulous. “I can’t… have sex with you in my office!” he hisses, low as if someone might be listening in.

Your grin only widens, and you pull him down towards you, so close that his breath skates across your lips. He twitches nervously, like you’re close to breaking him, like he’s this close to doing something he’ll regret. “But you want to,” you murmur, cupping his jaw and letting your fingers trace his cheekbone. “Tell me, Professor… When was the last time you had something just because you wanted it, hm?” He shudders, eyes fluttering closed. “I’ll take real good care of you, sir, I promise.”

With a strangled groan, he gives in. The kiss is sudden, harsh like he’s furious with you for pulling him in like this. Soft lips give way to sharp teeth, greedy tongues, slotting together like you were moulded for him. Your hand slides up into his hair, tangling in his curls as you kiss him harder. A moan slips from your lips when you pull away for air, and the sound seems to drive him well and truly into madness. His lips meet yours with a renewed hunger, resting a hand at your jaw when he breaks away.

Spencer (you’ve just had your tongue down his throat, for God’s sake, you’ve earned the right to call him by his first name) strokes his thumb over your bottom lip, gazing down at you with awe and disbelief written across his face. He sucks in a sharp breath when you close your lips around his thumb, lapping at it just like the sucker from earlier. “You’re trying to kill me,” he breathes.

Releasing his thumb with a slick pop, you laugh. “Is that what you think?” You stand up, press your body into his. Spencer nods warily. “You’d know. If I was trying to kill you, I’d do something like this,” you murmur, sliding your hand up his throat and pressing down softly. His eyes flutter closed in surrender, and a filthy, spit-slick grin spreads wide across your lips. “You like that? Good boy,” you say silkily, letting go of his throat as he nods. “You gonna let me take care of you, Professor?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, and when you let your gaze wander away from his flushed face and down his body, your lips part softly at the sight of him straining against his pants. You dip your head to kiss his neck, wishing you could bruise, make him yours, but you restrain yourself.

Rough carpet grazes your knees as you sink to the floor, hands coming up to work his belt open. You kiss him through his pants, slide his zipper down with your teeth. Spencer whines, and the sound sends a pulse of arousal through you. “So needy, sir,” you croon, slowly pulling him free of his boxers. It’s probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen, thick and hard in your palm, drooling precum as you lean in to kiss the tip. The salt taste of him fills your mouth and you moan involuntarily, his hips twitching as you pump his cock slowly.

Hands thread into your hair, but the touch is gentle, reverent, born from need rather than demand. Not that you’d say no to his manhandling you, but you get the sense that’ll take some time. “If you want something, it’s polite to ask,” you tease, holding Spencer’s hips when he tries to fuck into your hand.

“Fuck, please,” he hisses, and the obscenity slides deliciously up your spine. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so gorgeous down there. I want you so badly, I just— please?” Spencer whines, and he sounds so sweetly pathetic that you take pity on him, wrap your lips around his head. The moan that falls from his lips is made of pure lust, and you shiver, arousal dripping between your thighs.

You suck and lick at him, eager and teasing, moaning as the taste of him fills your mouth. Spencer trembles with the effort of holding still, not fucking up into your mouth, and his hands unconsciously tighten in your hair. “You can be a little rougher, if you want,” you say, sliding your palms up his clothed thighs and taking him in your mouth again. You moan around him as his cock bumps the back of your throat, swallowing a gag with practiced ease.

Spencer’s hand curls into a fist in your hair, your stomach clenching in anticipation. The gentle sting when he tugs just a little buzzes under your skin, and you moan enthusiastically around him, hollowing your cheeks and taking him even deeper. “Fuck,” he whines, hips jerking forward until his cock bumps the back of your throat. Heat throbs between your legs as he twitches on your tongue, and you can tell from the sounds he’s making that he’s close. 

You double your efforts, pulling off to lick around his head and drip spit along his length. Arousal throbs in your belly, hips grinding down against nothing. Slowly, you take him all the way back in, moan low in your throat when he’s buried to the hilt. You trace your tongue across the vein throbbing on his underside, and Spencer lets out the sweetest, most desperate little whimper you’ve ever heard. “I- I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, fuck, baby, oh, my God,” he gasps, needy and adoring.

His voice trembles as he begs, so soft you’re not sure he knows he’s speaking aloud, and the way he pleads your name, fuck. Time blurs around you, your head goes hazy, pleasure knotting itself deliciously around your insides. Spencer gives a strangled moan, a garbled sound that might be your name, and that’s all the warning you get. You swallow greedily as he spills on your tongue, twitching and moaning and praising you through short, gasping breaths.

He’s still twitching with the aftershocks as you pull off, kneeling to smile blithely up at him. Spencer’s eyes are wide, sparkling with adoration as he struggles for breath. “How was that, Professor?” you tease. “Do I get an A?”

He gives a groaning sort of laugh, pulls you to your feet. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, still gazing into your eyes. It’s disarming, and you get the distinct impression he can read what you’re thinking as plainly as if it were stamped on your forehead. “Come here, come on,” he adds, pulling at your hips and pressing your body into his. You’re almost shocked when he kisses you, hard and greedy and hungry, the most aggressive he’s been this entire time. He sanitises his damn desk three times in a class, for God’s sake — you’d half expected him to hand you a toothbrush when you stood from the floor.

And yet, he’s kissing you breathless, and his hands are tangled in your hair, and his body is pressed so close to yours that you can barely tell where you end and he begins. “Thank you,” he mutters against your lips. “That was incredible. You’re incredible. You’ve gotta let me— Come here, sit,” he says, guiding you to sit on his desk. You balance between scattered papers, an uncapped pen bleeding a black stain into your skirt. 

“Let you do what, Doctor?” you say, quiet and breathy, gazing up at Spencer with wide, adoring eyes.

Spencer smiles, and something warms in your chest at the sight. Long, delicate fingers trace along your thigh, push up your skirt until your panties are on full display. “Pretty,” he remarks, maddeningly casual. “Did you wear these for me?”

“Of course, sir. I don’t dress up for boys anymore.” You swallow, bite your lip. You decide to lay it on a little thicker. “See, I need a man.”

“Is that so?” Spencer murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Your heartbeat quickens, excitement throbbing between your legs as he drags them down. “Look at you, sweet girl. So wet. Is that all from sucking my dick?” he teases, and you shudder.

You don’t know where the sudden obscenity, sudden dominance came from, but it thrills you all the same. “Mhmm,” you murmur. “What are you gonna do about it?” Smirking, Spencer picks up your panties, lets them dangle from his fingertips, red lace starkly incongruous from the calm, studious background of his office.

After a beat, his grin turns wicked and he tucks them into his pocket. “Safekeeping,” he says, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. The movement is so tender that it stops you in your tracks, a shimmering thread of something more than simple desire stringing between you. His eyes glitter, and you know he feels it too. Then, long fingers start to work at the buttons of your blouse. “I want to see all of you,” Spencer says, bending his head to kiss your lace-clad breast as your shirt falls open.

His hand skates up your thigh, oh-so close to where you need it. “Please,” you breathe. “Please, sir. I need you.” Spencer draws his hand away and you whine pathetically, your bare thighs suddenly impossibly cold.

“Be patient, sweet girl,” he says, low and almost dangerous. A thrill skitters up your spine as he sinks to his knees, gazing intently at your dripping wet core. “Beautiful,” he mutters, so quietly you don’t even think he’s talking to you. His hands slide up to your thighs again, spreading them apart gently. “Are you gonna let me taste you, beautiful?”

You nod frantically, cunt fluttering at his words. He kisses the inside of your knee, works his way down your thigh. A brief, bright spark of pain flickers through you as Spencer sucks a bruise into your skin and you moan. A rush of incredibly gratifying heat washes over you when you realise he’s marking you; a hidden little secret lying just beneath your polished exterior. Spencer won’t be able to see anything else when he looks at you. 

He pulls away from his assault on your thighs to look up at you, doe-eyed. “Tell me you want this. Please. I need to hear you say it.” You shudder, closing your thighs around his head and threading a hand into his curls so he can’t drag himself any further away.

“Spencer,” you moan. His eyes blow wide at the sound of his name from your lips. “Please. I need you,” you breathe. “Need you to make me cum, sir, please. Haven’t I been good for you? Don’t I deserve it?” You bite your lip to muffle a scream when Spencer leans in, licks a broad, flat stripe along your soaked core.

He’s methodical, at first, and you know somehow that he’s carefully cataloguing your responses. His tongue flicks over your clit, slow at first and then faster, pressure mounting between your thighs. Spencer moans into you, shifts his hips, and you realise: he’s getting off on this. A jolt of arousal so strong you literally pulse against his mouth rips through you, and you feel his lips curve into a smirk.

Big, soft hands dig hard into your thighs, pulling you flush against him like he could bury himself in you. “You taste so good, baby,” he whines, pressing his tongue flat against your hole as you grind your hips forward. Pleasure curls under your skin, swelling and pressing against your organs, crowding your mind until you can’t think, can’t feel anything but him. Your toes curl in your shoes, stomach clenching as your orgasm builds and builds. Breaking away, Spencer presses tender little kisses to your inner thighs, licks soothingly over his bite mark. 

Just as you’re starting to whine at the loss, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit. Sudden, electric ecstasy shoots through your body when he sucks on your sensitive nerves and it’s all you can do not to scream his name for the entire campus to hear. “Oh, fuck,” you whine instead, rocking your hips in a frantic, desperate rhythm. “M’so close, sir, please— You gotta let me— fuck!” you gasp, cunt clenching as he slides two fingers into you. You’re so wet that it’s easy, a slick slide as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Look how well you take me,” he says, staring openly at the point his fingers disappear into your body, your greedy cunt parted around them as wet, obscene noises fill the room. He kisses your clit softly and your legs kick out. “You’re gonna look so pretty taking my dick, hm?”

Your mind goes blank, pleasure thudding sickly in your throat, humming in your ears. “I want it,” you whine. “God, I want you to fucking— mmm— bend me over this desk ‘n— fuck— make me all stupid for you. Oh, God, Spencer, m’so close!” you cry, tugging at his hair and writhing helplessly.

“Go on, pretty girl,” Spencer says, softly urging. “Cum for me.” He pumps his fingers, licks at your clit, gently coaxes you over the edge. Your hands white-knuckle the edge of the desk as pure pleasure washes over you. Your body slumps, weak and powerless against the weight of your orgasm ripping through you. Spencer doesn’t let up, smiling into you as you write above him, murmuring soft praises that fade into a low buzz against your pulse hammering in your ears.

Spencer’s lips and chin glisten with your arousal, still kneeling between your legs as you struggle back to your body. “That was… Shit, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand,” you giggle, testing your weight as you shuffle off his desk. Spencer leans down to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on his lips is dizzying. Pouting, you glance up at the clock hanging over his door. “I have class.”

As much as he wants to, Spencer won’t tell you to cut class, and you both know it. “Would you like to, uh…” He clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and just like that, he’s back to the sweet, nervous academic you’re used to. “Continue this discussion later? I’ll— I’ll be here all day.”

Your lips stretch wide in a saccharine smile as you slowly button your shirt. “Why, Doctor Reid, are you asking me to meet you after hours? How scandalous,” you giggle, pressing a soft, near-chaste kiss against his lips. “I’ll be back at six.”

the way he sucks their bottom lips in his mouth is doing something to me

I’m Here, Now

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!Fem Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Spencer gets released from prison and you’re his first stop after dealing with Cat Adams and her schemes. And all he wants to do is see you and love you.

Category: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established relationship, prison arc, spoilers of season 12 of Criminal Minds, it’s a lil sad tbh but it only lasts for a second, reader’s in disbelief, spencer and reader being cutesy, crying, kissing, mentions of bruises, threats, sappy speeches, fluffy ending, lowkey not true to 12x22/13x01 so this could be an au! smut warnings: soft!dom spencer (firm believer here🙋‍♀️), a lil body worship from reader to spencer, oral sex (m receiving & reader receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, “good girl”, riding, unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, spencer lowkey being a munch- that should cover it 😃

Author’s Note: hey lovelies, i can’t stop writing smutty oneshots ahhhh i can’t help it, i just love my man 🤭 i hope y’all enjoy this because i’ve had my mind on prison arc reid bc i’m watching s12 rn and oooo he so fine in 12a and in 12b 😩 anyways hope y’all like this <3

You worried that maybe he’d never come back. Upon hearing he was in jail in Mexico, you worried you’d never see Spencer again.

If your past self could tell you that your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid, who was a nerd at heart, who spent his free time playing chess and reading and watching Doctor Who with you under your fluffy blankets and wore mismatched socks because he believed it was good luck, that he would one day end up being framed and sent to prison, you would’ve laughed in your face.

You never would’ve expected this to happen. But then you heard why. He was framed for murdering a woman named Nadie Ramos, who was helping him get his mother medicine that seemed to calm her from her episodes. If there was anyone he would’ve risked everything for besides you, it was his mother.

And to be honest, you were a little mad at him for lying to you. He told you that he was going to Houston to talk to some of his mom’s doctors. You’d been together four years now and not once did he ever lie to you until now. When he got transferred to the Milburn Correctional Facility, due to overcrowding, he’d requested to see you and only you.

It wasn’t until Spencer wrote you a letter, practically begging you to come and see you. The first time you’d gone to see him, you actually didn’t even recognize him, skipping over him and almost staring at him in confusion when he walked over to the other side of your plexiglass.

And you tried to play it off like you expected him, even while looking like he did, but he knew deep down you didn’t recognize him. He chose not to acknowledge it but you both knew.

And you visited him frequently, until he decided to cut you from the visitor log with no warning. You were hurt, to say the least. And you ended up avoiding everyone after that. You even ignored the many fruit baskets Garcia kept sending over but you kept sending them back.

But then a miracle happened.

They proved his innocence. And he was out.

You would’ve found that out if you’d checked your phone but you spent the entire day in bed, away from society and sobbing at the fact that he was gone and he wasn’t here, comforting you like he did so well.

You hated him, you hated him for putting you in this position, for making you deal with the aftermath, for pushing you away. But you loved him. You would never stop loving him, no matter how much you hated him right now.

You’d been laying in bed, tossing and turning all day as the TV played some random sitcom you watched every now and again. And you’d heard something. A soft knock coming from your front door.

You almost missed it but it was faint. And you heard it. Choosing to finally get out of bed, you opened your room door and walked to the front door. You opened it without checking the peephole, because at this point you’d had enough and just wanted death to get you over with already.

But death may have stopped your heart only for a moment when you open the door.

Because standing there, in the suit he’d gotten arrested in when his bail was denied, his hair outgrown and his stubble framed nicely on his face — was your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, in the flesh.

You gasped softly as you backed away from the door and stared at him, almost as if you were disbelief. You’d had a dream like this before. Where he came back and promised he was here to stay. (But it was another one of God’s cruel jokes and you cried when you woke up the following day).

He walked in and closed the door right behind him, standing tall in front of you. You noticed the bruises on his face, how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and stared at you.

“Hi.” He said softly and all you can do is stare at him. “Am I dreaming?” You find yourself asking out loud and his heart breaks. He can see that you’re scared. Scared that if you go up to him, he’ll disappear like smoke. And he hates that.

“No.” Spencer shakes his head and he waits for you to approach him and you do, walking slowly towards him as the floorboard creaks beneath your socked feet.

He waits as you first grab his hands, and interlock your fingers together. When that seems not to be enough for you, your hands move to his face. You caress the sharp new grown stubble on his face and drag your index finger to his plump lips and stare into his hazel eyes and they’re full of wonder and love.

You don’t even register the tears until you hold him in your arms and you hold onto him for dear life. He holds you tightly in his arms as you find yourself wrapping around him like a koala and all he can do is hold you back. And it grounds him, you ground him.

Your head moves towards his and you kiss his lips, like you’ve longed to do for three months. And part of you still couldn’t believe this, that he was here, holding you like you were going to break.

You kiss him a few more times before you pull back and ask with tears in your eyes, “Are you okay?” Spencer nods toward your forehead, “I’m okay, now that I’m here.”

“You’re here, now.” You look him in the eyes as you say this and he nods at your words, repeating them to himself. “I’m here, now.” It’s as if he’s reminding himself that he’s here with you because he’s worried he’s gonna wake up any minute and he’ll be back in that cell. You weren’t the only one who had a hard time believing this was real.

Spencer’s lips catch yours and he pushes into the kiss and you get back on the ground, your hands (or mouth) not leaving him for a second and making their way up to his hair and pulling. You whine into his lips as he you pull him by his belt and walk backwards to your bedroom with him following you.

With your strength, you twirl the two of you around and straddle him as you continue to kiss him. You rock your hips into his growing bulge and he moans into your mouth and you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

You begin to unbutton his suit and successfully get his blazer off and now next is his dress shirt but he’s quick to grab your hands and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You ask, willing to put a stop to this if he wasn’t ready. “Nothing, I just…” Spencer looks down as he lets go of your hands and seemingly now growing insecure all of a sudden.

He stands up from the bed and you look up at him as he holds his arms over his stomach. “I just… I got hurt pretty bad in there. You’re gonna see some bruises. I just don’t want you to freak out. He admits and your heart breaks, “You don’t have to take your shirt off. Or we can just stop entirely and—”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’re gonna see them eventually.” With that, he begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you give him all the time in the world to do so, not wanting to rush this at all.

When he takes off his dress shirt successfully, you finally see it. He has bruises everywhere on his ribs and some near his belly button and on his stomach. Some are still in the process of healing with yellow and gray hues and some are purple and mucus green.

“Oh, my love…” You whisper to yourself as you stand up and you turns him around and find more on his back and there’s just too many of them. You find yourself tearing up but you know you need to keep it together for him. Who could hurt your sweet boy? Was this why he didn’t want you to see him anymore while he was still in there? How long did this go on for?

It’s then that you register the bruise near his eye. You thought that it was due to the lack of sleep he’d been getting and assumed it was the bags under his eyes he so often got but it was a bruise. How did you miss that when he walked in?

He almost wants to hide himself, like a turtle under its’ shell and you look down at his body. “Baby…” You start but he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks at you as you guide him towards the bed and he lays back and you go back to straddling him, but this time, you’re careful as you hover over him.

You kiss his lips before making your way down to his neck and then to his body and it takes a second for him to register that you’re not just kissing his body, you’re kissing the bruises.

He feels himself getting choked up as you kiss every visible one and his heart swells for you. What did he did to deserve you?

You begin to unbuckle his belt but he rests his elbows on the bed and looks down at you. “You—You don’t have to…” He trails off but you quickly shake your head. “I know. But I want to. It’s your first night back. This is about you tonight, baby.”

Spencer doesn’t interfere, just stares as you unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock through the hole in his underwear and it springs into action, dripping pre-cum from the head. “Oh, my sweet boy. You must be so pent up.”

You kiss the tip of his dick and he shuts his eyes tightly as if he’s trying to hold back from already cumming. You lick up his shaft and fit his cock inside your mouth and he curses to himself as he grips your bedsheets as tight as he can.

You notice this, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers together, as if you’re telling him and giving him permission to touch you as you bob your head up and down.

He takes this opportunity to caress your face as you take him into your mouth. He ties your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes deeper onto his cock and even lifts his hips to ensure that you’re taking all of him until you’re gagging.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer tells you and you nod to the best of your ability until you begins to fuck your throat, using your mouth for his pent up pleasure. “Fuck… God, you’re so good at that. Letting me fuck your throat like the good girl you are.”

His words could make you cum on the spot without him even laying a finger on you. He rarely cursed in your domestic setting but he did it often when you two were in bed.

All you can do is take it as deep as it can go in your mouth. He whines into the ceiling as he says your name until you feel his hot cum dribble down your throat and your nose is buried into his crotch as he holds you there and makes you take all his cum into your mouth.

He pants as he releases your head from his cock and you swallow the rest of his cum. He looks at you with worried eyes, concerned that maybe he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, like he didn’t just cum into your mouth and call you a “good girl”.

You shake your head at him with a small smile. “That was just about the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” (And everything he did was always hot). He blushes and crooks a smile.

“Are you willing to keep going?” You ask him and he nods with an immediate answer, “Absolutely.” He’d never let you go to bed without making you cum at least twice.

You climb on top of him with a smirk and look deeply into his eyes. They’re filled with lust, love and adoration for you and for you only. “You’re so beautiful.” You say to him in a whisper but Spencer chuckles a bit, “I should be saying that to you.”

You look down as your pussy catches the tip of his cock and you sink down into him carefully. He moans at the feeling and you gasp. He fits perfectly.

“God, I missed you. Missed this…” Spencer catches his breath. “Perfect pussy.” You chuckle and looks into his eyes as you rock back and forth. “It was so lonely without you, Spencer.” You whine. “I missed you so much.”

You lean down as you kiss him on the lips. “Did you…” He pauses, not wanting to be crude even while he was inside of you. “While I was away?” It took a second to figure out what he was talking about. And then you realized that he was asking if you’d masturbated while he was away.

“A few times,” You admitted shyly, despite suffocating him with your pussy. “I thought about you every time. It just wasn’t the same. Missed your body.”

Spencer smiles darkly, “Maybe I should punish you for that.” He says, half-joking. You lean forward as you smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

And without a second thought, it was as if a switch flipped as Spencer was quick to flip your bodies over and he hovers over you, both hands on either side of your head, gripping the pillows. “You really wanna test that theory?”

You bite your lip and smirk once more as you pull him in for another kiss and he glides himself into you and you gasp at the feeling of his dick inside of your pussy. It’d been such a long time since you felt him like this, here, in your arms. God, you love him.

He rocks his hips, thrusting deeply into your body as leans his head in your shoulder, mumbling sweet obscenities and how good your pussy feels and how responsive you were. He dreamt of the day he’d have you like this. And since being in prison, he longed for it more.

He reached down in between your legs as he found your clit without even looking down and staring deeply into your eyes and your moans reverberate through the walls as keeps his eyes on you and you only.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I need to cum— where? Where?” He asks and you shut your eyes tightly as you shout, “Inside! Oh, god, inside!”

He pushes himself hard into you as you finally cum, your legs shaking as you moan his name into the ceiling and he collapses on your body, still sheathed inside of you.

You both lay there, panting and reveling in the feeling of each other. Eventually, Spencer does pull out of you and you feel as he lowers himself, eyeing your pussy up close and you look down at him sleepily. “Baby, you don’t have to. This was about you.” You assure.

“Nonsense,” Spencer tells. “I need to clean up my mess and even the score, might as well kill two birds with one stone.” He jokes, diving face first into your pussy and you whimper at the contact he makes, especially with the way his stubble is rubbing against your thighs, cleaning his own cum out of your pussy and relishing in the way you both taste.

His mouth captures your clit and he twists his tongue around the bud in that delicious way you love and he moans into your pussy. “We taste so good together, baby. Cum again on my tongue, this time.”

You tug at his messy hair as you hold his head to you pussy and you use him, rocking your hips into his mouth. You feel as your legs shake once more and you let go of his head for him to take a breather.

That breather lasts only a second before he dives back in and you whine at the contact. “Spence… baby, I’m sen—sensitive.”

“You can take one more, baby. I know you can. You can cum again.” Spencer says, his pupils are blown as he looks at you and he’s commanding you to cum again. “Just one more, baby.”

You nod at him and Spencer grabs your hands. “Here,” He interlocks your fingers with his and somehow, the pleasure is so much and yet not at all as makes you cum for a third time tonight. If he could spend forever eating your pussy, he would.

You close your eyes for a moment and when you finally open them, he’s right next to you and holding you. (He’d cleaned you up properly with a warm rag and left your favorite snack and water bottle on the desk next to your bed whenever you were ready to wake up). You remembered the loving words he whispered to you as you drifted off into a heavy slumber.

And you’ve finally woken up. You look up at him, still in awe of him being here. You take the chance to check the time. It’s already 5am and the sun is still shy away from rising but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because you have your boyfriend right next to you, holding you for dear life and loving you the way you deserve to be loved.

You worry that he’s still up, but you figure that after all those months in prison, maybe he has trouble sleeping every now and again. You find yourself holding him tighter as you look down at the bruise near your head. You can’t believe he was hurt. How did he manage to survive in there? You’re still wondering why he’d taken you off the visitor’s log.

“Spencer?” You ask and he looks down at you, your voice surprising him. “Yeah?” You sit up and look at him, face to face, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Why did you take me off the visitor’s list?” You decide to ask.

He’s about to respond and you don’t want to hear another lie. You’d been through plenty of those already. “I mean, I didn’t even want to see you at first and then you begged me to and then all of a sudden, I wasn’t allowed to. I feel like I have the right to know.”

“No, no, you do,” Spencer knows that much. He hates the fact that he’s lied to you and has forced you to deal with this when all you deserved was the best from him. He sits up next to you he knows he’s gonna need to tell you, even though he doesn’t want to.

“The last time after you came to visit me,” Spencer started. “I got cornered in my cell. A lot of the guys there were asking about you. And they said that it’d be a shame if something happened to you when you came to visit again.” You look down as he talks about it. “And I didn’t want to risk that. And I wanted to tell you, really, I did.” He grabs your hand assuringly. “But I didn’t have any way to. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. I would’ve died if something happened to you and I didn’t do everything in my power to stop it. I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

You shake your head. And you finally understand. Because if the roles were reversed, you would’ve taken him off the visitor’s list, too. If it meant protecting him. “You were just trying to protect me, I understand.”

“I just…” Spencer looks at you, holding your face in his hands. “I love you, so much.” He looks deeply into your eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reveals and your eyes widen. “What?”

Spencer closes his eyes and holds his index finger up. “One second.” He stands up and grabs his blazer from off the floor and digs into one of the inside pockets and pulls out a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen as you cover your body with the sheet and he kneels down on one knee in his boxers and opens the velvet box to reveal a ring. “I didn’t want to do it like this but I’d rather do it now than wait for the right time to.” Your eyes glance down at the box for a mere second and then to the love of your life.

“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make my days better, hell, you’ve made my life better. And no matter what we’ve gone through, you’ve stayed by my side and you never ran. I love that you sing off-key, I love that your nose twitches when you get mad, I love that you like… pineapple on pizza, oddly enough.” You chuckle at this. “I love everything about you. And I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you. But… but true love, it fosters a connection that goes beyond the superficial. It's a bond that often involves understanding each other's core values, beliefs, and life goals. And you’ve made me believe in true love.“

You stare at him in disbelief as he continues, “Will you marry me?” You feel tears spring into your eyes as you nod vehemently, “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” You smile widely and he smiles at you, slipping the ring onto your ring finger as you continue to mutter a million yeses.

When you finally get the ring on, you pull him in for another kiss and he holds you to his heart’s content. It wasn’t the way he envisioned it going, but with you, you knew you didn’t want big and bold ways of him saying he loved you and wanted to marry you, you were content with something small and sweet because it was coming from him and that was the biggest gift of all. You were one for grand gestures, you liked it just the way it was. It was perfect. He was perfect. And you’d spend the rest of your life reminding him he was.

So, you laid back in your bed with your fiancé and talked and talked about sweet nothings until the sun came up. And all of the ache you felt the night before, the pain you endured was long gone and now replaced with something beautiful and sweet.

Back To You

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: Spencer finally realizes that he wants you to stay and that he loves you and he proves to you just how much he does.

Category: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established past relationship between spencer and reader, spencer being a lil shit, reader being depressed, cursing, mentions of Lauren arc, maeve arc, Grey’s Anatomy spoilers 4x17 “Freedom” and 11x21 “How to Save A Life”, heartfelt talks, love confessions, kissing, smut warnings: soft!dom spencer, cunnilingus, spencer is packing, praise, he whimpers (idc WHAT y’all say), unprotected sex, creampie (find a better word for this pls), a lil bit of aftercare and that should be it(?)

Author’s Note: here it is, the long awaited part three! sorry y’all i lowkey struggled to write this lmao, i hope y’all like this end to the 3-parter hehe 🤭 hope it was worth the wait! <3

part one part two

Spencer Reid was utterly bewildered when he headed into work that following week and saw that you didn’t show. That wasn’t like you. You were always at work, no matter what. Sure, you had a few sick days here and there and after your guys’ breakup, you’d taken a couple of days off but you were into work about a day or so later.

He chalked it up to your guys’ previous conversation. The one where he pushed you away. And he knew you needed time to deal with that. So, he went straight to work and didn’t think anything more of it.

But then a day turned into a few. And before he could march to Garcia’s lair and ask to track your phone down because he was concerned — and it didn’t help that his mind first went to you lying in a ditch somewhere — he instead went to Hotch and asked if maybe you were taking vacation time.

Thankfully, Hotch had told him that you indeed were taking vacation time but that you hadn’t gone into why you needed to.

But Spencer knew why.

He’d felt horrible about how things ended in the parking garage. He knew it was his fault. And he wanted to go make it right… with you, he just didn’t know how. And Spencer also worried that going to see you would just make things worse.

All he could think back to was when you guys dated. Things seemed so easy being with you. You understood the workload, since you’d had the same job, you let him ramble and listened to him — even when you weren’t dating anymore. And you were just such a good person and a good friend, no matter the cost. (The cost being his relationship with you when you hid the fact that you knew about Emily’s fake death). He didn’t think he’d ever forgive you for that. But now, since Maeve, since everything, since you were there for him, he was willing to finally push all of that aside and beg for you to come back to him.

He knew you were a hard person to convince. You held grudges like he did, which was why you two were in this mess now. But Spencer knew, eventually, you had to come back to work. But then he thought about it.

The chances of you transferring to a different unit, to a different city, maybe even to a different state because you could stand to see him any longer were high. Like previously stated, he knew you. And he knew from when you two were together that once your mind was made up, there was no changing it.

But he didn’t want you to. He hated that now he was realizing this, but now, he had to march down to your apartment and tell you how you truly felt. That he really didn’t want you to go.

And damn it, he was gonna do something about it right now.

You wondered if you’d ever recover from the hard blow Spencer Reid hit you with. It was like a punch in the gut, the fact that he wouldn’t let you in. It was to be expected, that he needed time to recover himself. But it hurt that he pushed you away, even though you knew that would happen.

Since what happened with Spencer in the parking garage, you had called in sick from work for a week or two. It wasn’t until Hotch literally texted you and asked if you were okay and if you wanted to formally request the month off to do so.

You hadn’t gone anywhere, you weren’t on any vacation and you weren’t seemingly blowing off work. You just needed time and right now, seeing Spencer in the office wouldn’t make it any better. This is what you would do, you’d wallow for a short amount of time and then move on.

Although you wouldn’t really move on. You’d pine silently and wait for the day you stop having feelings. It’s what happened with Spencer before and it’d likely happen again.

So, you sat in your living room, re-watching Grey’s Anatomy for about the third time. The men absolutely sucked in this show. You were wearing your sweatpants and a white tank top with your hair looking like a rat’s nest. You showered last night but unfortunately didn’t have the energy to blow dry your hair so it dried over your pillow covers and you woke up the next morning with your hair looking absolutely atrocious. You slumped on the couch, stuffing your face with chocolate ice cream and frowning at the screen as Meredith shows Derek she’s ready to commit to their relationship by designing a floor plan for their home. What’s the point when he’s just gonna die anyways? Someone always dies and someone always gets hurt.

You only planned in sulking on your couch for another day but you certainly didn’t plan on someone knocking outside your door rapidly.

“No one’s home.” You grumbled as you took another scoop of your ice cream from your spoon into your mouth. The knocking continued once more. “Go away!” You demanded. But the knocking wouldn’t let.

So, you groaned, pausing the TV and getting out of your blanket, putting your ice cream to the side and walking towards the door. You look through the peephole and scoff when you see who’s at the door.

“No fucking way.” You say loudly for him to hear. “Y/n, will you just open the door, please?” Spencer pleads with you. “Why should I let you in when you’ve never bothered to let me in?”

Spencer closes his eyes as he curses to himself. He supposed he deserved that. He says your name again as he rests his palm on the wood of the door. “Please, just open the door. Can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about, Spencer?” You question, crossing your arms and you choose to stand your ground, deciding not to open the door. “Open the door, please. I’d rather your neighbors not hear.”

You roll your eyes and decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You unlock the door and open it. “You have two minutes. Two.” You lean to the side so Spencer can walk in to your apartment.

You quickly check your watch. “You’ve got,” You click your tongue. “A minute and fifty-four seconds remaining. Make it count.”

“I should’ve asked you to stay.” Spencer started. “I should’ve asked you to stay a long time ago. But Maeve… the whole thing with her… it broke me. And maybe I’m beyond repair and maybe I will never be over her, but you should not have to suffer because of it. I’ve… been… an ass.” You knew it was serious when he cursed. He rarely ever did.

“Strong beginning.” You comment, your arms carefully crossed over your chest in defense. Spencer noted to this being something you did every time you two fought.

“I wanted you to stay. Trust me, I did. And still do. But I can’t burden you with this. With my… pain. You’ve done so much for me already. Taking care of me, making sure that I was okay, being there for me when I was heinous to you after our breakup. We barely spoke a word to one another before then and you knew that but you were still there. I guess I just… don’t know how to do this. I… I was given another chance and I… couldn’t save Maeve. I’m scared that if I let you in… it could…” Wind up the same way. He doesn’t finish but you figure that’s what is about to come out of his mouth.

It made sense now. Why he pushed you away. He didn’t owe you an explanation, because you knew why he did. At least, later you did. But your heart couldn’t cope with the heartbreak and you asked for the time off anyways. You needed it. At least, your heart did. You owed her that much.

Spencer looked defeated as he stood in front of you. Like he couldn’t lose the one thing that seemed to fit in the puzzle piece of the void. He knew he didn’t deserve you. And he would be okay with the fact if you had just kicked him out this second.

Instead, you stood in front of him and your shoulders sank out of defense mode and into a shy tone. You thought to yourself for a moment before you turned back to him.

“Spencer,” You start hoarsely and walk towards him slowly and carefully like he was ready to break like glass. “How come you let me into your apartment after what happened to Maeve? You could’ve let JJ in or Garcia.” The burning question lingered for so long, you had taken the opportunity to ask here and now.

His answer was simple. “Because you’ve seen me in that state before. It’s so easy to mask my emotions in front of JJ or Garcia or Morgan. With you, I knew I could feel anything and not have you look at me out of pity. Because you’ve been there before.”

You swallow at that answer as you walk over to him, face to face with him. (Of course, you’re a tad shorter than him so you have to look up at him a bit).

You extend a hand and caress his face with your palm and he nuzzles into it like a cat to a scratch post and closes his eyes tightly as he grabs your wrist, as if he’s wanting to keep your hand there. Your eyes lilt down from his eyelids to his plump lips and you shake your head.

“Where did we go wrong?” You ask in a whisper. And you’re almost afraid for his answer. You’re entirely aware of where you went wrong. It was your fault, after all. And suddenly, you don’t want to hear his answer as he parts his mouth and looks into your eyes. “Never mind,” You say. “I remember.” Your tone is somber.

And Spencer knows why. Sure, he was upset and honestly, he had the right to be after you kept the fact that their close friend had faked her death and you knew about it but didn’t tell him. But he was willing to put that all behind him just to have you back in his life again.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” He said and you looked up at him with wide eyes at this. “It was a long time ago. And I can’t stand not having you in my life any longer.”

“Spencer…”

“I love you.”

The words fall out of his mouth so easily. “I love you, so much. I know we didn’t get it right last time but I want to, this time. I have always loved you.”

“But Maeve?” You ask.

“She was my past and I’ll always be grateful for the time that I had with her, even if it was short.” He admits but he takes your face into his hands, so tenderly as he looks you in the eyes. “But you… I’ll be damned if you’re not my future, Y/n. I’m sorry for how I’ve been. I’m sorry for how I’ve acted. You’re stuck in my head and I just… can’t seem to get you out of it, not that I’ve ever wanted to, anyways. But, Y/n, I’d go back to you. In a heartbeat. And my head is the most clearest it’s ever been so don’t you dare accuse me of just saying this on a whim. Because it’s not a whim.”

Spencer Reid knew you too damn well. He’d broken your heart in two, sure, but when it healed, it continued to still beat for him. You’ve always loved him and you never stopped. He held the darkest parts of you but he never once tried to fix them, he embraced them.

“I love you.” He said, out of breath. “Will you let me love you again?”

You stare up at him and instead of answering, you lean impossibly closer and your lips graze his and you don’t know who leans closer — you or him — (you later confirm that it was definitely him) and your lips connect.

The coffee taste is familiar in his mouth as his lavender scent fills your nostrils and he holds your face closely as he swallows you whole. Eventually, breathing becomes a chore and Spencer takes this opportunity to set you on the kitchen counter as his lips connect with your neck and you close your eyes as you feel all of him all at once.

Your hands explore his back, trying to shake his cardigan off of him — no matter how sexy it looks on him — and you are successful as it comes off of him and lands on the floor, revealing one of his dress shirts underneath.

You’re too busy admiring his body when he takes a moment, looking at you and taking in your features. He’s been here before. You’ve been here before. He’s home.

Realizing what he’s done, he knows you deserve better than being mauled on your marble counter and looks at you for permission before hoisting you to his waist and finds your bedroom, letting you get down and lay on your bed as you look at him, only in love and admiration.

He begins to unbutton his dress shirt and tear off his slacks and you take this opportunity to shake out of your sweatpants and your hair out of your elastic hair band. He’s left in his boxers and you’re left in your top and underwear.

He stares down at you, eyes full of lust and love and he smirks down at you and God, that should not have been so hot.

Spencer leaned down to kiss your lips and then kissed your neck and your collarbone. He shakes you out of your top and kisses each your breasts and then your bare stomach and then gets to his destination and with nimble fingers, pulls at the waistband of your underwear and pulls them off, flinging them across the room and looks at you as your rest yourself on your elbows so you can see the show.

You feel as his hot breath sigh into your pussy and you tilt your head back, dizzy by the sight in front of you. You had to have been dreaming. Surely, this is God’s cruel way of hurting you even more by making you have a vivid sex dream about your ex-boyfriend. (Or was he your boyfriend again?)

But when his tongue licks a stripe over your entrance, it’s confirmed. You’re definitely not dreaming, but definitely on Cloud 9.

He licks at your hole a couple of times before putting his mouth on your clit and making figure-8s with his tongue and your dig your hands into his messy locks and pull him impossibly closer.

And with his hands, he takes them out of his hair and holds them, interlocking his fingers with yours and Jesus, you might cum too soon from the sight alone.

The one thing you always liked about Spencer in bed was his expertise on sex despite not being very experienced himself. After your first time together, you were surprised to find out he’d only done it one other time because of just how damn good he was at it.

You wanted to hold out for him, but the way he looked at you and then moaned into your pussy, “That’s it,” He said. “Cum on my tongue.” It made you cum. Hard. You gasped out his name as he lapped up everything you gave him.

Eventually, he let go of your hands and let you take breather as he climbed over you and stroked your face with his hand. “Are you okay? We can stop here.” Ever the gentleman, even after giving you an orgasm that made you think you’d gone to heaven.

“You are crazy if you think I’m going another day without having your dick inside of me.” You joked and he lightly chuckled as he removed his boxers and you eyed what you were working with.

Also, another reason you were surprised he wasn’t lucky with the ladies in the past before you. He was well endowed despite being lanky and skinny.

“Wait,” You stop before he can press his cock towards your pussy and he divides his attention right onto you, willing to end this right here and now because you stopped him. “Are you okay? Because if you want to stop, we can.”

His heart swells for you even more. He understands why you’re asking him. But he was true to his word. His head was the clearest it’d ever been.

“I’m the greatest I could ever be right now,” Spencer admits. “I’d only ever want to stop if you wanted me to.”

Your eyes bore into him as you smile at him, caressing his face with your index finger, touching his plump bottom lip with it and you see the essence of you on his face, something that reminded yourself that he belonged to you. And only you. “Ready?” He asks, breaking your focus from his lips and you nod as you gasp, “Yes.”

Spencer breaks his focus away from you for a moment as he slides himself towards your entrance. You gasp out as you feel him sheath himself into you and his fingers interlock with yours beside your head as he bottoms out into you. Your body welcomes him and it’s as if your body remembers his.

“God, you’re tight,” He told as he shut his eyes and tilted his own head back because of how good it felt. How good you felt. “You feel so good.”

“So do you.” You manage to get out and his head is tucked into your neck as you hear his whimpers as he rocks into you, his only wish to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel.

He mumbles into your collarbone, trying to take you to the edge with him with his words.

“You take me so well.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I love how you tighten around me.”

The praise had made you rock your own hips back into him as you plead, “Harder, Spencer, please.” You beg and he commands at your wish as he fucks you into the bed even harder now. Your whines are more high-pitched as your nails dig into his back as he rails you and your bed begins to creak loudly.

“Let’s—Let’s cum together,” Spencer tells. “Where do you want it?” You gasp, “Inside, inside, please.”

You beg him, wrapping your legs around his torso and he plows into you even harder and then you feel him shudder and that’s send you over the edge as you feel his hot seed paint your insides.

You stare up at the ceiling as he collapses over your body, his hand still tightly perched into yours and his hot breath panting over your collarbone. Your hand rakes over his now sweaty chocolate locks and you hold him close to your body, not ready to let him go. It’s so peaceful as you both sit there in the silence.

But eventually, all good things come to an end and you whimper as he pulls out of you due to how sensitive you are. You close your eyes in slumber as he leaves the room, muttering something to you before he leaves and the next time you open your eyes, he’s back with a bottle of water and a warm rag to clean you up.

He takes a moment to gawk at your pussy and his cum leaking out of you before cleaning you up. You flinch at the contact at first, but he assures to you that it’s mandatory to clean you up after sex.

When he’s done, he expels the rag into your hamper and tucks you in under the covers, shortly joining you after he does so.

You turn on your side, facing him and going to hold by his torso and Spencer smiles to himself as he wraps his arms around you and quickly leans over to grab the water bottle and you open your eyes as he opens up the cap and puts the bottle to your mouth, wanting you to at least take a sip. You do so and he smiles as he puts the cap back on and then puts the bottle on the desk next to the bed.

Spencer looks down at you, playing with a strand of your hair and shortly rubbing your back soothingly, drawing out mathematical equations on your back and gazing lovingly down at you. When you woke up tomorrow, he’d be right here, right next to you and he wouldn’t leave until you were begging him to.

He meant every word he said to you. He loved you and he wanted to make it work with you again. The past was what it was — the past. And you were his future. He let you go once, over something that you had no choice but to keep from him and he let his pain get in the way of your relationship. No way was he about to make the same mistake again.

Over a few months ago, you two were barely speaking, only talking to each other when your jobs depended on it. And now, he couldn’t go another minute without speaking to you.

He got you back and this time, he had no intentions of letting you go.

…… i have nothing appropriate to say 🫣

A Chat About Books

S5! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer catches you reading a rather disturbing book on the jet and a discussion about books and reading ensues.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of a case, discussions about a disturbing book called ‘Playground’, talks about gore (not explicit, just mentions of it in the book), mentions of murder & children dying, mentions of the Foyet arc and 5x09 “100”, reader has a fear of flying, reader is lowkey embarrassed about what she’s reading? spencer is also *lowkey* a simp? reader loves reading (heh), reader & spencer have crushes on each other but the other doesn’t know (i think that’s it, but please let me know if there’s anything i’m missing 🙏)

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so i’m in the middle of reading “Playground” by Aron Beauregard and oh my god???? 😧 anyways, i wanted to write a little blurb because i get embarrassed about the amount of books i buy and read and ik spencer would never judge 😌 i love ✨projecting ✨ but i’m thinking of writing a part two with smut🤭 let me know hehehe

The case was a quick one. Sometimes, they usually weren’t and the team would probably be holed up in some random state for about a week. The longest you stayed was two.

You’d been on the team for a couple of years now and still, sometimes you never got used to flying high up in the air. You were usually terrified to fly, but over the course of you being on the team, you eventually got used to it.

And then you remembered the one thing your colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid, always suggested. Reading while flying. And it actually helped for flying on the way home. Usually flying to the case often consisted of debriefing and going over the M.O. and victimology. Flying home was always the better opportunity to get to reading your novels.

And you loved reading, so it gave you more of a reason to catch up on it. You often stuck to romance, but occasionally drifted into the horror genre, like you were now.

After the case in Minnesota — regarding your unsub killing prostitutes and then graduating to lower risk victims that reminded him of his wife who left him for his best friend — you were curled up in your seat on the jet, it’d been a while since you indulged in your reading without having your head full of thoughts. Since what happened with George Foyet taunting Hotch and his ex-wife and child going into witness protection and it ending with Haley being killed in the process, your head had been filled with so many thoughts and worries and stress for Hotch and his family that you could’ve even bury your face in a book until everything calmed down.

Spencer had noticed that you’d started reading again as he passed through the aisle on his cane and seated himself right next to you. He didn’t know what book you were reading but you’d been so focused on it, you didn’t even see that Morgan tripped over nothing in the aisle and tried to play it off like he didn’t. Usually, you’d laugh and tease Morgan like a brother since that’d always been your friendship with him but you didn’t even remove your focus from the book. Spencer thought it must’ve been that good of a book that you didn’t draw your attention to anything else.

He leaned over, trying to get a look at what you were reading but the book was nestled in your lap. “Whatcha reading?” Spencer finally asked and suddenly, your attention was finally drawn from the book. You almost flinched because you didn’t realize he was sitting next to you.

You quickly try and hide the cover since it’s a pretty gruesome sight so you turn it towards you in your lap. “Oh, it’s a— it’s a horror novel.” You tell. “You, uh, you wouldn’t like it.” You quickly add before he can ask what it was about.

“Why do you think so?” Spencer asks as he leans his cane over in the aisle.

You knew Spencer wasn’t one to judge, it’s what made liking him so easy. And yes, you’d admit it, you harbored a crush on the genius. And honestly, why wouldn’t you? He was amazing, sweet and insanely hot. He was everything you wanted in a man. You knew he probably didn’t feel the same way and that was okay. But finding out what type of horror novels you were into was probably a dealbreaker. Not just in a hypothetical relationship but in a friendship.

You see, the book you were reading was called Playground by Aron Beauregard. It was about an old woman who lured three families for their children to try out a playground structure for money. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the playground structure is basically a death trap for the children and their parents are forced to watch as their children try and survive the playground structure of death. It was your first time reading it and well, one time was definitely going to be enough.

And part of you worried about telling Spencer the exact kind of book you were reading and you worried that maybe he’d think you were some type of monster for reading a book such as the one you were holding now.

“It’s—It’s pretty gruesome.” You said and pretty gruesome was putting it lightly.

“So is what we see on a daily basis.” Spencer retorts and you nod with a small shrug, “Fair point.” You sit to face him and you begin to explain the book to him.

“It’s a different type of horror. Splatterpunk, if you will. Do you know what that is?” You ask and he nods, “A, uh, literary genre characterized by graphically described scenes of gory nature. In most cases, the gore described is extreme.” Spencer explains, literally giving you the definition he’d most likely read on paper on in a dictionary.

“Right,” You nod. “Well, the plot follows a woman by the name of Geraldine Borden. She was working on building revolutionary playground equipment for years. And she decides to invite three low-income families to the estate. All the parents have to do is have their children test out the playground equipment but — there’s a twist. The playground structure is actually full of death traps and the children are pretty much in danger the entire book and unfortunately, the parents are forced to watch as the children try to escape. Spoiler alert: I’m pretty sure none of them make it.” That was just a guess, it was your first time reading it after all.

“I thought you only read romance books.” Spencer stated and you shrugged, “I change it up a bit once in a while. I found this book online on some blog. A lot of people were talking about specific pages and parts in the book and well, curiosity killed the cat.”

“Why do you read splatterpunk?” Spencer decides to ask you and you look down at the book and then back at him as you admit — “Is it bad if I say it helps with my profiling?” Spencer furrows his brows as he looks at you curiously — “Really?”

“Yeah, in some of the books I read in this genre, the main character is usually a serial killer. Or killing is involved in the most extreme of ways. It helps you really get into the mind of a killer and see why they do what they do. If it makes sense without sounding totally crazy.” You explain, hoping to God that you don’t sound insane for using extreme books such as the one you’re reading now to get a deeper understanding about your job.

“I don’t think it sounds crazy,” Spencer interjected with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s just a different perspective on things.” You stare into his eyes with a smile and surely enough, you can just get lose into those hazel pupils of his. How a man can be as beautiful as him should be a damn crime.

You turn back to the cover of your book and set it down, the cover facing upwards and seemingly feeling a little secure in what you’re reading without feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, well, this is my first time reading this book and well, probably will be my only time.”

“I’m assuming that the next time we’re in this position, you’ll be reading romance.” Spencer tells, considering that every time you’re on the jet, you’re reading a new romance book. The last time you were on the jet, you were reading a book called Praise and the author was Sara Cate. Spencer had gathered it was an erotic book, solely based on the fact that your face had flushed a couple of times while reading it and commenting that you needed to put a pause on reading until you got back home. He’d wished to know what exactly you were going to do once you got home that night.

“Oh, for sure. Those usually cheer me up from stuff like this.” You gesture to the book in front of you. “I’ve got to stop buying books, though.” You sigh sadly.

“When I was younger, my mother had always commented that I bought too many books. Said I should use the money for something a tad more useful. I can’t tell you how many Stephen King books I bought when I finally got a job. Every paycheck, it was a new book. I guess I need to outgrow the habit, sometime.” You look down, growing embarrassed again that you just spewed all of that to Spencer.

“I don’t think you can never have enough books,” Spencer tells. “No matter if it’s silly little romance books or anything of the horror genre, reading is a part of life. We shouldn’t shame other people for what we like.” He explains and you find yourself smiling again at him. “You’re right.”

Before you can go back to reading your book, you yawn behind your hand and Spencer leans over, “You should get some rest before we land.” He suggests, considering the fact that the entire time you were both in Minnesota, you barely slept. You drank coffee the entire time you were there, not wanting to bat an eye and have the unsub strike again. The most you slept was two to three hours at most. Both of your young minds working together would be the death of you one day.

You shake your head, “Oh, no. I’ll be fine.” Spencer looks at you carefully, “I know you’ll be fine, but you should get some rest. A short nap can often improve memory, improve job performance, lift your mood, make you more alert, and ease stress. They can also be good for your heart, too.”

You nod, your eyelids seemingly growing heavy after Spencer had talked to you about naps. “If you insist, pretty boy.” Stubborn as you were, the only person that could get you break was Spencer. He knew you were independent and always assured everyone you were fine. But Spencer always saw through it. You weren’t sure how he did, but he did, every single time.

So, you put your book down on the table and curled up in your seat as your head fell towards the armrest. Spencer had been in arm’s reach of the couch and grabbed the throw blanket that was perched there and quickly tossed it over your body. You looked down at you with a small smile on his face.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he always liked you. Like liked you more than a colleague. He liked you-liked you. There was something about you that lit up a room, something that he often noticed. And the fact that you’d had so much knowledge of books and the way you seemed to enjoy explaining a plot to him reminded him of himself a lot. You were so passionate about reading and books and he loved that little fact about you. He loved you. He loved your smile, your personality, your body.

And he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to tell you that. And he hoped that maybe one day, he’d stop being a chicken for once and actually tell you how he feels about you.

Dream A Little Dream

Bf! Spencer Reid x Gf!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer comes home from work and finds you sleeping in bed and he’s completely mesmerized by you as you sleep.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: spencer likes watching you sleep (but not in a creepy way), fluffiest of the fluff, cuddling, talks about weird dreams and dream analysis, spencer is completely infatuated with you 🤭

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! i got this idea bc i love love love cuddling fics with reid 🤭 i wish this man were real so bad :( anyways i hope you enjoy this hehe

“Honey, I’m home,” Spencer smiled gently to himself as he heard the words leave his mouth. He never imagined he’d ever say that out loud to anyone. But now he had you. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it every time he said it.

He’d called out to you but there had been no answer. Granted, it was three in the morning, he figured you were probably asleep by now.

Spencer softly closed the door and he placed his satchel down by the door and removed his converse off from his feet, placing them next to your shoes near the table they’d had near the door. He scrunches his nose as his mismatched socks (he’d opted for a light blue sock paired with a yellow sock with patterns on it) patter on the floor as he walks towards the kitchen.

By the evidence on the stove, you’d made chicken Alfredo pasta. A good chunk of the pasta is left on the stove — you most likely saved it for him because you worry about how skinny he is — and he smiles to himself. At least you ate.

He makes his way over to your guys’ shared bedroom and that’s when he sees it. You’re on the bed, sleeping soundly and bundled up under the covers but sprawled across the bed, holding his pillow, no less and wearing one of his old CalTech sweatshirts. On the bed is your laptop laid far away but not too far where it would fall off the bed. No, it looked like you were in the middle of work and decided to take a break and instead had fallen asleep.

Spencer leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and a warm smile as he watches you sleep. He’d often took advantage of the times where he’d come in from work late.

He liked watching you sleep. But not in a total creep kinda way, absolutely not. He more so liked seeing you so well-rested since you were always up on your feet, dealing with work and stress and never really taking a break from anything since you were so independent. It was one of the many things he liked about you. But in all seriousness, it might’ve been his favorite thing about you.

He adored the way your nose would scrunch while you slept and the way that you snored softly into the pillow. Sometimes, you’d even had a dribble of drool onto the pillow and he even found that cute. He’d found everything cute about you.

Eventually, he’d had enough of just looking at you and decided to join you. The first thing he’d done was remove and close your laptop and carefully place it on the dresser. He even opts to put it on the charger for you.

He begins slipping off his slacks along with his dress shirt and cardigan and puts on a gray t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms and quietly climbed into the covers next to you.

He carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly and you stir a bit and scrunch your nose up once more and open your eyes to see your boyfriend, smiling warmly at you.

“Hi, honey.” He whispers and you inhale deeply as you smile sleepily at him. “You’re home!” You cheer tiredly as you scoot closer to him, you head resting on his chest and inhaling his scent as you snuggle as close as you can to him.

“I am home,” He smiles as he holds you impossibly closer. He looks down at you as you keep your eyes closed and hold him as tight as you can. “Are you okay, sweet girl?”

You nod into his chest as you open your eyes and look up at him. “I’m perfect, now that you’re here.” Spencer smiles softly at you as you rest your head again on his chest.

“Were you in dreamland?” Spencer asks with a crooked smile.

There was an abundance of times where you’d dream strange dreams. Like one time you were being chased by a hot dog or the other time you were awake on a gurney while doctors performed open-heart surgery on you. Point of the matter was, you had weird dreams.

And you could brush those off as getting food poisoning from a hot dog and never eating them again or when you fell asleep watching Grey’s Anatomy but you always dug deeper into your dreams.

Like you being chased by a hot dog could meet something that’s entirely harmless is causing you stress or overwhelming you. Or the fact that maybe you had a fear or an anxiety of being awake while having open heart surgery. You were one of the few people in Spencer Reid’s life that read into your dreams. He wasn’t one to believe in dream analysis, but you did. And so he’d often asked what you dreamed about this time, since you had dreams like that so often.

“Mhm,” You smack your lips with a sigh and curled up impossibly deeper into his chest. “This time, I was flying without wings.” You said and he furrowed his brows with an amused smile on his face. “Flying without wings?”

You nod once more, “I was suddenly floating and all of a sudden, I was falling and right before I hit the ground, I woke up.” You told him and he thinks to himself at this.

“When you dream about falling and then suddenly wake up just before hitting the ground, it's usually due to a "hypnic jerk,"” Spencer tells, being the rambler he was. And you gladly listened every time. The first time you’d gone out with him, he kept apologizing about his rambles about whatever was on his mind. You assured him that you really didn’t mind, you loved listening to him talk.

“It’s an involuntary muscle contraction that happens when your body is transitioning between wakefulness and sleep, often interpreted by your brain as a sensation of falling, causing you to jolt awake.” Spencer tells and you shrug, “Yeah, it was something like that.”

Spencer smiles softly, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as he rubs your back, back and forth with his hand. You drifted off for a moment before looking back up at him and he kept his eyes trained right on you. Like you were his only given vice, something worth living for and fighting for. To which, you were. To him, at least.

“How was work?” You asked and he turned away from you as he answers, “We can talk about it later.” Which was code for, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it right now but I mean it when I say we can talk about it later’. And when he was ready, he’d talk about with you. Eventually, he did.

“Right now, I just wanna stay here with you.” Spencer told and you smile into his chest, “I missed you.” You tell and he chuckles, “I missed you, too, sweet girl. And I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You snuggled with him, hiking your leg across his torso and holding onto him as you closed your eyes and your breathing evened once more. He smiles, looking down at you and not wanting to move a muscle to disrupt you. He probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight since he’d be too busy staring at your sleeping features and silently thanking God you were in his life and that he could share these moments with you.

And in the morning, he’d tell you that he asked Hotch for a few days off in advance because he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. Your guys’ schedules always seemed to be opposites and the only time you’d ever really get together is in bed, like this. You deserved a few days to be with him and he you.

But for now, he’d let you sleep and veer off into dreamland again.

"I choose to stay silent"

The face i stay silent with:

SOMEONE ASKED ME SOMETHING AND IT GOT DELETED

The Holiday: Part One

Dad! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You and a random woman online do a home-exchange for the holidays after a hasty breakup with your boyfriend. You’re enjoying the quaint little cottage you’re currently staying at in D.C. when all of a sudden, a strange man is knocking at your door. The man claims he’s the brother of the woman’s place you’re currently staying at and needs a place to stay for the night since he’s had far too much to drink. One thing leads to another and well… things get complicated from there.

Category: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: 18+ MDNI meet cute, reader just went through a breakup, mentions of alcohol cosumption, a lil ooc!spencer? post-prison spencer reid, spencer has a sister named caroline for the sake of the plot, spencer is a cheeky little shit, kissing, smut warnings: soft!dom spencer, titty sucking, fingering, cunnilingus, whimpering (spencer reid core), a lil dirty talk, riding, uses of ‘darling’ and ‘angel’, creampie— that should cover it!

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so i was watching “The Holiday” the other night and it had me thinking: i could see this happening with Spencer Reid hehehe so here’s what my brain conjured up! it’s going to be following the plot of the movie but ofc things are gonna be a bit different! also, happy holidays and merry christmas! i hope y’all do like this hehe <3

It was snowing in D.C.. You’d never actually experienced snow before, considering you actually lived in L.A., where the sun was shining 24/7. It was a big leap from the weather in California, that was for sure.

But you didn’t mind. Mid-December, you expected the weather to be the way it was now, snowing and icy. And you pretty much liked it. You felt more at home out here than you did back in L.A.. And the more you thought about it, what did you really have back at home anyway?

You’d just broken up with your long-time boyfriend, who cheated on you with his assistant. And after verbally admitting to it and fighting with him about it, you’d kicked him out. (As you rightfully should). But after the interaction with him, you’d realized he was right about one thing. That one thing being that you always buried yourself in your work. And it’s not like it was easy not to get out of it, you were a writer, for God’s sake. You loved writing more than anything in the world, more than him. And he had an issue with that.

So, in spite of that, you’d decided that you needed a Christmas vacation. And you’d tried one of those home swap websites to find a place you could temporarily stay in for the holidays. And you’d found one belonging to a Caroline Reid.

You’d talked with her a little bit before deciding to agree to the home swap. You’d discovered she’d had a brother who also lived in D.C. and that he’d possibly pop in every now and again to see how things were going. Something about how he worked for the government and that he’d wanted to be sure that you were who you said you were and not some weird 40 year-old guy who stole underwear. You’d found out he was older and he was very protective of his sister and of course, you understood that. You almost wished you had a brother that was like that, but your apartment was in a gated community and it was pretty open. You’d also had an alarm system, knowing who was coming in and out of your community at all times.

So, you’d agree to the home swap for two weeks. Starting from the 16th of December to the 30th of December. The flight from L.A. to D.C. wasn’t long and you’d found the place alright.

A tiny cottage home that smelt of lavender and sea salt. The fireplace, looking as if it’s been used thoroughly, it’d felt oddly like home. Or at least a home you’d wanted growing up. You’d always been in L.A., never opting to go anywhere but home and this change was seemingly nice compared to your studio apartment in L.A., you suddenly felt bad for Caroline, having to leave such a beautiful home to gather at a studio apartment in L.A..

You’d taken a few days to get used to your surroundings, only leaving the cottage to go to the store and buy your snacks and sparkling cider for the night (since you hated wine). You only planned for night-in, watching whatever TV show was playing for the night. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep watching a re-run of The Nanny, cuddling up in a fetal position with the blanket you’d bought from home.

You were woken with a startle as you heard a banging on the door and you stood up quickly, looking around for anything in the room you could use as a weapon and opted for the giant book on the floor that could easily smack someone in the face and knock them unconscious if need be.

You walked down the stairs of the cottage and heard a voice outside followed by the banging. “Caroline? Caroline! Are you home?” The voice asked and you furrowed your brows and stupidly asked — “Who is it?” You dumbass! You’re not supposed to reveal that you’re home to the intruder! Unless that’s what the intruder wanted, you really need to stop listening to true crime podcasts.

“It’s me! Open the door!” The voice responded and you were beyond confused. “Hurry up! It's freezing.”

You hadn’t recognized the stranger’s voice and yet you continued to shoot yourself in the foot as you had asked again — “Who are you?”

“Caroline, open the door or I swear I'm gonna end up urinating all over your front porch—" You gasp, tossing the book on the couch and without even thinking, you open the door and in front of you is stood a tall man.

His chocolate brown hair pushed out from his neck, his stubble perfectly framed his face and his sharp jawline that looked like it could cut through glass. His perfectly plump, pink lips apart as he looks right at you, his hazel eyes gazing right at you in surprise. And all you can do is stare right back. He was dressed in a long black coat, black slacks and black loafers and a purple scarf around his neck to top it all off. He was kinda dressed as a professor now that you really looked at him, kinda looked like one too, the way he presented himself five seconds standing in the doorway.

And here you were, in patterned pajama bottoms, a white top and a grey cardigan, completely underdressed.

“Oh,” The man spoke. “You're not Caroline.” He turns towards you and crooks a small smile. “Or if you are, I'm much drunker than I realized. I'm so sorry. I-I wasn't expecting you.” His gaze never leaves your eyes as he backs away from the door for a moment.

“Well, I wasn't expecting you, either…” You trail off, not knowing what to call him. She’d probably settle for that attractive guy who used “urinating” instead of “taking a leak” on the front porch.

His eyes widen as he holds his hand out, “Oh, sorry! Uh, I’m… I’m Spencer Reid,” You take his hands going to shake his back. You can’t help but glance down at his hand, the veins on the back of it, making you gulp for a second. “Caroline’s brother.” He stated.

“Oh! Right!” You exclaim, totally forgetting that Caroline had informed you of her brother probably popping in every once in a while. She just didn’t happen to mention that he was hot! “I’m Y/n L/n, your sister informed me you’d be popping in sometimes.”

The man you now know as Spencer snaps his fingers and nods, “Yeah, forgive me, I’ve had a… bit too much to drink so it slipped my mind that she wouldn’t be here. My apologies. But do you mind if I… use the restroom?”

You flinch and back up so he can walk in the house, “Oh, of course! Come on in.” You probably shouldn’t have let him in. He could be a killer for all you know. It was something about him that just seemed… welcoming in a way.

He’d quickly gone into the bathroom downstairs and you’d spent a good minute fixing your hair to your liking so you could present yourself in a way. It wasn’t everyday a cute guy walked into your home (for the week at least), you wanted to at least look a little good.

“So, from what my sister has told me so far, she’s staying in L.A.?” He asks after he exits the bathroom and into the living room, where you find yourself doing anything but looking at him. “Yes, she’s staying at my studio apartment there. She, uh, listed this cottage on a home exchange website and I found it. We switched houses for two weeks for the holiday. So, I’m here and she’s… there.”

Spencer hums, “People actually do that?” You shrug in response, “Apparently.” Spencer looks at you and thinks to himself, “I just… I’m sorry, I told my sister that it could possibly be dangerous for her to do that and yet she’s just too stubborn. She’s like our mother in that way, it seems.” You nod at him, not knowing what to say to that.

There’s a brief silence before Spencer motions towards the couch. “I’m sorry, would you mind if I sat down? I, uh, was out tonight with my colleagues and I… I guess I’m feeling just a bit dizzy.” He tells.

“Oh, of course, go right ahead.” You tell and he plops on the couch and sits up, looking at you. “Also, again, I'm sorry about the intrusion. Although right now, I may not appear it, I am, in fact, Caroline’s respectable older brother. But on the rare — or I guess, lately not so rare — occasion that I frequent the O’Keefe’s and get inordinately drunk, my little sister puts up with me so I don't get behind the wheel.” He explains and you nod in understanding. “It’s a pathetic explanation, but, unfortunately, it's become a bit of a routine, really. I swear, I’m not usually like this but… yeah. Like I said, it slipped my mind that you’d be here instead of you, so… I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “Oh, no, you’re all good. I was just, uh, having my own little… girl’s night. I'm, um, not quite myself right now. I-I came here on a stupid whim, really.” Spencer nods at you as the silence fills the air once more.

“Oh, sorry, I’m a terrible host. Would you like something to drink? Glass of water? Tea? Sparkling cider, maybe?” You ask. “Uh, sure.” He nods and you nod back at him, going to the pantry to grab two glasses and fill the cups up with sparkling cider.

You walk back into the living room and hand him his cup, your pointer finger connecting to his for a split moment. “So, Y/n, is it?” He asks and you nod, “Yes, that’s me.”

He mumbled your name under his breath, seemingly like the way he said it. And you did, too. “So, Y/n, I assume you’re not married?” He asks and you furrow your brows — “Why? Do I look not married?” You chuckle awkwardly, wondering where this was going.

“No, it’s just…” He sits up more as he takes a sip of the sparkling cider. “I don’t know if my sister told you but I’m a profiler for the FBI and that means that I study human behavior and one thing I noticed about yours is that you seem to carry yourself pretty well so far. Your body language tensed and you got defensive when I assumed you weren’t married so I assume that’s a factor into your relationships and you don’t trust people often. But you let me in when I could’ve been a total stranger that’s lying to you, so I may be off my A-game here. It may also be the fact that your pupils dilated when you looked at me and you’re curling in on yourself, meaning you may find me attractive.” Your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen at that. Damn, he was good. “And that’s totally okay, I don’t know what you may see in me, but I’m flattered. And you’re also not wearing a wedding ring, but… by the fact that you said you’re not quite yourself at the moment and that you cowered and looked away for a second when you said that, I’m also assuming that you just got out of a relationship. Am I correct?”

You simply blink, completely dumbfounded at his whole “profiler” thing. You can’t help but stare and clear your throat and he can tell you’re uncomfortable with it. He shakes his head and shuts his eyes as if he’s in pain. But mostly he’s cringing because of what he said. “I’m sorry, I… I do this a lot. I just… ramble and ramble and ramble. I’m trying to be better at it, honest.”

You shake your head and shrug, “No, it’s okay.” You look at him. “You’re actually very spot on. Uh, I just broke up with someone. Before I left.” He nods at this. “He… cheated and well, my guard is back up. I came here to maybe… I don’t know, get a change of scenery for once? But now I’m realizing that I actually have no idea what I’m doing and well, I guess I just… feel alone in a way.” You realize you’ve just rambled about yourself and shake your head as he gawks at you and you chuckle it off, “Bet you're glad you knocked on this door.”

Spencer looks up at you, not laughing along with you but instead speaking softly, “I am, actually.” The way he said it made it seem like he actually meant it. You stare at him before looking down at your hands, playing with the loose thread on the ends of your cardigan.

“So,” Spencer spoke again. “Would it be alright if I stay? I'll be gone before you even wake up. I promise you will never lay eyes on me again. It might suck for you now that I think about it, considering you find me attractive.” He told and the heat rushes to your cheeks again.

“Okay, one: I do not find you attractive—” He interrupts you. “Funny how I brought it up before you didn’t deny this.”

“And two,” You continue. “It’s okay if you stay. I actually prefer it now that I know you’re not someone who wants to murder me.” Spencer nods at you, “Technically, you’re more likely to be murdered by someone you know so considering you’re not home at the moment, you’re safe.” He tightens his lips as he looks up at you.

You narrow your eyes at the man and study him, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a strange man?” Spencer thinks about it for a moment, “A lot, actually, yeah.” You purse your lips in a smile and catch yourself gazing at his hands again as he places the glass cup back on the table.

“Uh, let me get you a blanket.” You offer and suddenly you feel like an idiot because you don’t even know where the extra blankets are. And judging by your face, Reid can tell you don’t know where they are either. “Oh, uh, in the cupboard on the left.” He tells and you nod at him, going towards the cupboard you see surely enough on the left and of course, there are blankets inside. He’s probably been there often to know where the blankets are. Of course, he does, he’s Caroline’s hot older brother.

You walk back in the living room and see that he’s standing and he’s holding his hand out to grab the blanket from you. Somehow, you must’ve lost your footing because you ended up tripping over the carpet and into Spencer’s arms. “Here you go— whoa!”

You were lucky that he acted quick, otherwise you would’ve landed on your face but instead you landed on the plush of his chest. “Whoa! You okay?” He asks softly and you look up at him, considering he’s way taller than you. He gazed into your eyes and you his and you could see up closer that his eyes had a little green in them.

The way he held you in his arms for a moment, like you would break if he gripped your arms harder. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to escape from his grasp. And without even thinking, he leaned closer and pecked your lips. The kiss was soft, simple, like he almost didn’t mean to do it.

Spencer closed his eyes as he winced, realizing that he shouldn’t have done that — but God, you wanted him to do that again. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Uh, good night.”

He begins to slug back to the couch but you grab him by his bicep. He may look a little lanky but his bicep is strong and firm. What you would do to get him to hold you in his arms and just— whoa. Don’t get there, brain.

You suddenly find yourself speaking and chuckling awkwardly as you loosen your grip on his arm a bit. “Do you think you could...” You close your eyes and correct yourself. “Would you mind, um, trying that again?”

Without another word, Spencer tries again and this time, he lingers and the kiss spurs off fireworks in your head. He pulls away and all you want to do is dig your fingers in his messy mane and never let your lips leaves his until it becomes a chore to breathe.

But you frown for a moment and find yourself pondering. What the hell are you doing? Spencer seems to notice this and tilts his head to meet your eyes.

“Bad?” He asks. “Weird.” You correct and chuckle to yourself once more, “Kissing a total stranger.”

“Really?” Spencer asks. “I do it all the time.” You look at him. Of course he’s experienced in this. I mean, look at him!

“Here, let me try.” You take a deep breath and kiss his lips and halfway through the kiss, you realize your eyes are open the entire time. It’s probably because of the fact that you didn’t want to miss a second of it. And honestly, who could blame you?

Spencer backs away after the kiss and you scrunch your eyebrows together as you realize that was kind of an awkward kiss. “Maybe if I closed my eyes.” You say and Spencer nods, “That’d probably be best.”

You do so, close your eyes that is and Spencer looks over your features and decides to try something himself. Carefully, he places his oddly cold hands around your cheeks and leans in, ghosting his lips over yours as he breathes into your face and you feel his lips kiss your cheek and the area near your nose and suddenly, you feel warmth way below as he finally kisses you on the lips.

His cold hands contrasted with your warm cheeks and you feel shaken with pleasure and you look deep into his eyes once you open yours and he already watching you.

“You know, given that I'm in a bit of a personal crisis and I find myself in a total stranger's home and also considering that you showed up and you're, like, insanely good-looking and you probably remember me anyway, I'm thinking… we should have sex.” You offer and his eyes widen at your forwardness.

You’re not usually like this. You’re never this forward and you’d never suggest this to a total stranger but there was something he inhabited that you just found sexy. And you wouldn’t care of the consequences and you didn’t really know him so you didn’t need to date him to secure your needs, you just needed a release from the stress you’d been under the past few days. Dealing with publishers for your newest book, scheduling interviews among interviews, the whole thing that happened with your now ex-boyfriend. This could be good and it’s not like you’re entirely desperate. All you really need is something.

“If-If you want,” You clarify, hoping to God you didn’t just freak this man out into not staying at his sister’s place for the night. “Just say the word, I can go lock myself back up in my room for the night and we can pretend this never happened.”

Spencer chuckles to himself and he looks at you as he quirks an eyebrow upwards, “Is that a trick question?” He asks. But you look at him, dead in the face and he can already tell you’re being serious about this.

“No, I'm being honest. And not that this matters, but I've never said anything like that in my entire life before.” You tell. “It's just that this whole knowing that I'll never see you again thing is kind of exciting. I mean, this is what a vacation's supposed to be, right? You're supposed to vacate your life, do the unexpected, and you are definitely unexpected.”

Spencer smiles a bit as he shakes his head, “You’re making me feel cheap here.” He said and you laugh along with him once you realize he found it funny. You pull a strand of hair behind your ear as you add on, “You're funny, which is also like a bonus. In my book.”

Spencer leans forward, wanting to kiss you once more but you push on his chest a bit as you add, “Are you sure you’re going to be stable enough for this? I know you said you’d had a couple of drinks tonight.” Spencer smiles a bit, admiring your chivalry and not wanting to take advantage of him when all he wants to do is take advantage of you. He also finds it sweet, not wanting to do it when he’s vulnerable but he’d only had two drinks tonight and well, he can be a lightweight sometimes.

“Trust me, angel, I sobered up as soon as I saw you.” He spoke and your heart skipped a beat when you heard him say ‘angel’. Your cheeks are probably heating up again.

You smile and he leans in, kissing you once more. But you push him away once more and start talking once more. “Oh, also, I should warn you.” He looks at you in wonderment. “I’m… I'm not very good at this.”

He furrows his brows as he asks, “This being?” You look at him and blurt out — “Sex.”

Spencer scoffs as he looks at you up and down. “Okay, now that cannot be true. Who told you that?” He asks.

“The guy that I was dating, uh, mentioned it once or twice and a girl does not forget a comment like that.” Spencer leans forward to kiss you again, possibly just to shut you up but it really doesn’t work because you back away and continue, “I mean, how bad could I be? I mean, sex is pretty basic, right?” You look his way and scrunch your nose together, “Have I talked you out of this yet?”

He shakes his head endearingly and gazes at you. He must think you’re a mess, that he couldn’t possibly sleep with you because you were just “too much”. You’d been told that your whole life. But internally, he finds it oddly assuring that he’s not the only rambler here. He actually kind of like it. It’s not something he’s used to from someone else, mostly because he’s always the rambler.

“Strangely, not at all,” Spencer answers and then looks down for a moment. “Let me ask you this,” He licks his lips. “How do you feel about foreplay?”

Your heart stops and suddenly you’re looking anywhere but him now and you shake your head, “Uh…” You don’t really know how to respond to that.

His eyes widen, “Have you… not—?” You shrug, “I have, it’s just…” You pause. “It wasn’t great. The guy I was with… he didn’t like doing it and well, I’ve spared myself from dealing with that because most guys don’t know what the hell they’re doing down there half the time so… I guess I just… haven’t done it.”

Spencer’s lips part and he’s shocked at the discovery. He’s in complete shock of the fact that you’ve never really done it with a guy that knew what he was doing. It was completely baffling to him. Who wouldn’t want to? You were gorgeous and from what he gathered in the short time, you were also amazing. And by the way you made yourself feel small, somebody else did that to you. And his heart broke for you.

“That guy that you were with?” Spencer began. “I think he’s a real loser because a real man would like that.” You find your cheeks heating up again. “Y/n, you are quickly becoming one of the most interesting girls I've ever met.”

You smirk as you finalize your decision and stand up, sultry walking towards the stairs and looking back at him and find that his gaze has gone towards your ass. “Look at you,” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as he narrows his orbs at you. “You're already better than you think.”

With that, he stands, following you to your room and as soon as you close the door, he’s on you. His lips capture yours and you moan as his hand makes its’ way down your stomach and then in between your thighs.

You whimper in his mouth as he sticks his hand in your pajama bottoms and through the waistband of your underwear as he rubs the point where you need him the most. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my hands earlier.” He says into your neck and your eyes roll to back of your head.

“Spencer…” You moan into the air and his lips are all over your neck as he then picks you up and lays you down gently on the bed, like you were fragile and needed to be handled with care.

His lips travel from your neck to your chest as he opens up your cardigan and reveals your breasts covered by your top. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra. He pulls your top down and exposes your boobs — to which he fondles one of them and begins to suck on your nipple. His hand travels farther as he sticks a finger inside your hole as you gasp out — “Oh, my God!”

The stimulation, plus the fact that he’s sucking on your boob right now makes you want to cum. “I want you to cum like this for me, please.” You’d do anything for him so you will your body to give in and to release.

You feel your core throb as you came hard around his fingers and whine as he pulls his fingers out. He sucks on your juice off his slender fingers and you stare at him, like he’s an angel of sorts. He is an angel. And how you wish he could be your angel.

“You okay, sweet girl?” He asks softly and all you can do is nod at him. “We can stop here if you want to.” You shake your head, pulling him by his crooked tie and say — “Oh, darling, we are just getting started.”

With a smile, he kisses you once more and you both begin to take off each other’s clothes. You help him take off his dress shirt and slacks as he helps you out of your cardigan, top and pajama bottoms. Suddenly, you’re both naked in the bed and he turns his gaze down to your dripping pussy.

He looks at you with lust-filled eyes and asks, “May I?” You just nod but that’s not enough for him. “I need words.” You nod again but this time you add a meek — “Yes.”

He smiles as he gazes down. “I’m gonna take good care of you, sweet girl.” You watch as he slowly goes down and his hot breath fans over your pussy lips before he dives in for a kitten lick. You shudder and he quickly notices this with a sly chuckle, “You’re shaking. And I’ve hardly touched you.”

You moan, not wanting him to draw this out any longer than you want him to and he smiles, he could tell you want this. He could tell you need this. And goddamn it, he’s gonna prove to you that you’ve gone too far without this and you’re not going to keep going long without it so long as he could help it.

His mouth wraps around your clit, drawing figure-8s with your tongue and suck as he does so. You find yourself gripping the sheets hard as he continues to go down on you. “Fuck,” You deliciously mutters into your pussy. “You’re so sweet,” He drawls. “Your ex is a fucking loser if he thinks that this is a waste of time because darling, you are exquisite.”

You feel every moan into your pussy he’s making as you look down at the sight and your eyes connect to his and all of a sudden, you’re cumming once more. You shake in his hold as you close your eyes in pleasure as he stays in your sweet nectar until you’re done.

He looks up at you, as if he’s mesmerized by the sight itself of you releasing. You look back down at him and see his eyes, still blown with lust and reach down to run your fingers through his hair. By the doozy look in your eyes, he can tell you really enjoyed that. “Did I do okay?” He asks with a small smile and you chuckle as you look towards the ceiling. “That was…” You take a sharp breath. “Wow.”

Spencer laughs a bit as he climbs up your body and leans over you. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” And that’s when you turn your body around so that you’re over him now. “Oh, trust me. There is.”

You maintain eye contact with Spencer pump a few strokes on his cock before settling his head towards your entrance. “And you’re still okay with this?” You ask, a whiny tone sheltering your voice and Spencer swears he might cum on the spot just with you doing that. “Oh, I’m very okay with it.”

“Yeah?” You look down but only for a moment to guide himself into you and you rest your hands on his shoulders as you sink down into him. He throws his head back in pleasure as you finally feel all of him and you feel so full.

His cock throbs in your wet pussy and he gasps out — “Oh, you feel so fucking… perfect, angel.” You bite your lip to hold back your moans as you begin to move yourself up and down on him, rocking your hips to you liking and his hands rest on your thighs, gripping them tightly, holding you up against him.

“How do you feel, angel?”

“So f-full.”

“That ex-boyfriend wouldn’t know what to do with a perfect pussy like yours.”

His forwardness made your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to thrust hard into you with his cock.

“Where do you want it, angel?” He grunts and you know that it’d be too intimate, to have him mark you, claim your body, paint your insides with his cum but you’d been so far gone, you basically begged him to cum — “In-Inside.”

“Oh, you want it inside?” Spencer asks and you nod, biting your lip hard. “You want me to breed you? To claim you? Because I will.” His words send you over the edge as you work yourself on his cock even harder. “Cum for me, darling. Please.” A whine escapes his lips and you finally feel a coil snap inside of you as you cum for the third time tonight on his cock.

You feel a warmth inside as he paints your insides and you collapse again his body as you both pant. He feels your hot breath on his neck as he holds you close to him, his hand sprawled out on your back as he rubs your flesh, as if he’s somehow calming you down from your high.

Your eyes are closed but you feel as Spencer carefully pulls out of you (and he watches as his cum drips from your pussy and he’s mesmerized by the sight of it) and sets you down next to him, holding you to his chest and keeping you there. You feel his heart rate beginning to slow as you rest your head on his chest.

“Wow,” You start. “That was…” You take a deep breath. “Exciting.”

Spencer looks down at you and he furrows his brows, “I gave you three orgasms and that was just… exciting?” You can hear the smirk in his voice and you look up at him, “Okay, it was…” You ponder on a word. “Spectacular… hot… sexy.”

“Spec-hot-exy,” You form a word. “Is that good enough for you?” He shakes his head at you as he chuckles. “Are you okay?” He asks and you nod, “Yeah, I’m perfect.”

“Okay,” He says, sitting up. “Don’t get too comfortable because you do need to pee and we do need to clean you up. I just had sex in my sister’s bed and I know she’s gonna kill me for it.” He helps you up, steadying you as he walks you towards the bathroom and cleans you up.

And as he does so, you stare. And you just keep staring because even though this was a one-night thing, you can’t help but wonder what it may be like to actually be with him. Would he still be this gentle? Would he still be this caring? Because this would be enough to make a girl fall in love. And if Cupid heard your thoughts, he’d shoot another arrow just to make you even more head over heels than you are now. But you shouldn’t be thinking what you’re thinking, not at all. You just broke up with someone for Christ’s sake. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun while you were still in D.C..

After the holidays, you could go about your life, forgetting who this man was and just remembering him as the guy that just appeared at your doorstep and wowed you into sleeping with him. You were never gonna see him again, why not have a little fun while you were here?

You weren’t sure if this would end with anyone getting hurt, but all you knew is that you’d take advantage of the time you’d have, here and now.

some of y’all can’t take constructive criticism and it shows 😬

Let Me Stay

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer have gone back to normal, somewhat. But it only takes one conversation to ruin that all again. All you wanna do is stay, but he won’t let you.

Category: Angst

Warnings: not really a happy ending, established past relationship, maeve arc, mentions of death and suicide, takes place during 8x17 “The Gathering”, mentions of 8x17 events, spencer being a lil sad shit, crying, reader was in a past relationship before spencer, it’s just really sad, let me know if i missed anything! <3

Author’s Note: here is part two to “when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light”! it’s short and sad 🤗 might make a part three???

part one

After helping Spencer, things were back to somewhat normal. You’d both bumped up from only talking on cases to the occasional small talk near the kitchenette or asking how each other’s days were going when you both were in the elevator on the way to the bullpen.

Everyone seemed to notice the change but hadn’t said anything to indicate that they knew. But then you’d heard Garcia gossiping about it in her office the other day to Morgan.

“Can you believe it? They’re finally talking again! Isn’t that great? Small talk can lead into something more! Maybe they’ll finally get together again and my ship will sail!” She’d fangirl and you shook your head with a small chuckle escaping your lips. (She was always so hell-bent that you two would eventually get back together).

Not that you didn’t agree with her, you always hoped you’d get somewhere with Spencer again. You just didn’t know when you could. He was still in mourning over Maeve and you knew he needed time to heal before dating again. You’d wait forever if you had to, unfortunately.

He still seemed quiet during most of the cases or would bury himself in his work to avoid feeling his feelings. And you couldn’t say you blamed him, because if it were you, you’d do the same thing. You have done the same thing. So, with understanding, you left him alone. And you were waiting for him to come to you.

And then you had that case in Minnesota. Your unsub was Peter Harper, he had stabbed women and pulled their tongues out pre-mortem. And you knew that him pulling the tongues out had some kind of significance to him. The disparate set of women victims was chosen at random until they discovered one connection between the women and it was that they all have a very strong on-line presence, their deaths telegraphed by stories in their own online blogs, messages or texts.

They’d finally found him at a public pool, ready to throw a woman in the pool and to wait for her to drown and when the team finally found him, he’d had a knife to his neck, ready to kill himself. You and JJ tried to talk him down off the ledge and told Peter he’d get help and that everything was gonna be okay. But then Reid had spoken up, telling him the truth and the total opposite from what you and JJ were saying.

Peter had killed himself shortly after that. And Reid walked off in frustration. You and JJ shared a look, wondering what the hell that was about.

You’d gone back to the office after filling out your paperwork. You were ready to go home, to relax and to wash the stench of this case off of you. And while you were packing up, you’d overheard Hotch and Reid’s conversation nearby. You knew Hotch was questioning his decision with telling Peter Harper the truth — that it wouldn’t get better, that it was gonna be hard to get help.

And when questioned about it, Reid’s answer was simple. “Well, Hotch, I thought the last time I was in a situation like this, I did exactly what I was supposed to. I told a perfect lie and that didn't work, so this time, in the hopes of saving someone's life, I tried something different.”

And then it was clear what this was about. Maeve. And you’d known that he still wasn’t over her. And of course, it really hadn’t been that long since she died, the wounds were still raw.

When you saw Reid abruptly leave the convo between him and Hotch and head towards the elevator, you knew to follow immediately. You’d worried a lot about him since what happened with Maeve. And you guessed that you just wanted him to be reassured that he had someone in his corner.

“Spencer,” You called in the parking garage and he’d turned around at the sound of your voice and could tell by his sigh that he was in no mood to talk with you but regardless he stopped.

“Look, I really don’t want to talk right now—” And you should’ve just left it at that. But you pushed, like you always do. Instead of walking away, you interrupted him. “I don’t care if you don’t wanna talk, but you know what you’re gonna do? You’re gonna listen.” Spencer crossed his arms, obviously in defense mode as you continued.

“Spencer, we have given you time. We have been there for you thick and thin and all we wanna do is help—” This time, he interrupts you. “Have you ever thought about the fact that maybe I don’t want your help? That maybe what I need is just a little bit of space?”

With that, he walked off.

And you’d officially had enough.

“Do you really think that you are the only person in the world who has lost someone?” You exclaimed and Spencer stopped in his tracks, his back still facing you. “Well, you are barking up the wrong tree because — newsflash, Spencer — you are not the only person who’s lost someone. When I lost—” You pause, not wanting to say his name. “I was… such a wreck.”

You gulp, deciding to continue, hoping your words were getting somewhere with him. “And you helped me, remember? I never would’ve gotten through that if you hadn’t of helped. And I pushed and pushed you away but you didn’t leave. You stayed. All I’m asking is to let me stay.” You walk over to Spencer and he looks down at the ground, avoiding your eyes as you choose to stand in front of him.

You bow your head, wanting to meet his eyes as you put a waiting hand on his soft cheek. You move his head to look at you. “So, let me stay.” He can see the tears forming in your eyes as you practically beg him. His eyes gaze over to your lips before quickly going back to your eyes.

“Please don’t shut me out when all I wanna do is help.” You tell him and instead of nodding and listening to you and asking you to stay, he walks away. Because if he stays any longer, he might kiss you. And you don’t deserve that. Not right now.

He walks away, leaving your heart in pieces and you in shambles. He chose his path, so you must take the same route and forget you’d ask him to let you stay.

A bookstore meet cute I wish I could experience | Spencer Reid

Category: Fluff with S4 awkward, nerdy rizz Spencer

Warnings: use of Y/N, unedited (tenses keep shifting, sorry)

A/N: this is just 1.8k words of self indulgent self insert. Like this is inspired by some unpleasant experiences I've had talking with men about books in the past lol, and reader's responses defensive responses had been me at some point. i feel like a conversation with Spencer Reid would heal me, thus this fic. Also, save me, s4e9 Spencer Reid, save me.

He seemed like a fixture to the bookstore, if fixtures moved on their own. Or if they moved up and down the aisles with elegant fingers tracing the spines of the books on display. Or if they dressed like a rumpled professor, complete with the black rimmed glasses. He just seemed like he was part of the space, and you thought that every bookstore should probably come with one - a tall, attractive nerd who drifted all over the room like some sort of phantom. Maybe that would help with the literacy problem. It certainly would bring more people in, make them more interested in reading.

You've been trying to figure him out from afar, as subtle as you can. You're not a creep, after all, but he cuts such a lonely figure that you couldn't help but wonder if he needed some company. A part of you wonders if he's noticed you as well. This store is your late afternoon treat, after all. You come here every Friday, without fail, even when you know the inventory is unreplenished, simply to bask in the presence of books.

And then he started coming in regularly, and you had another reason to come.

You never approached him. Something about simply knowing he's there, while remaining a stranger, is thrilling. You can romanticize him if he's a stranger, project all the wholesome fantasies and book boyfriends you have upon him with no sense of accountability.

It also means you avoid the disappointment if he turns out to be another condescending know it all, eager to put you and your reading habits down because oh your tastes are so girly.

No, this was better. You're a flaneur, you tell yourself, you're here to be part of the space and observe from within, even though you doubt this is what Baudelaire had in mind when he wrote that essay and defined the term.

Still.

You smile to yourself, crouching down to check the books on the lower shelf, and also to catch a glimpse of his legs. He'd been on the other side of this shelf for the past five minutes, and you've gotten a soft chuckle when you saw his mismatched socks.

However, his lean form is nowhere to be seen. He seems to have moved to another aisle. With a small frown, you move to stand up, only to feel a tug.

“Shit,” a quick glance down reveals that a familiar looking shoe has accidentally stepped on your long skirt. You hadn't realized it billowed out around you when you knelt down.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!”

You look up and realize why the shoe looks familiar. It's him. You couldn't see him in the other aisle because he'd moved to your side, so silently you hadn't even heard him.

“Sorry, oh gosh, I didn’t notice.” He steps off quickly, and you watch as his cheeks bloom bright pink. A pink that quickly travels down his neck.

You stifle a laugh at how easily he blushed. “It's fine.” Your attempt to stand is more successful without his foot pinning the fabric of your skirt to the ground.

“I've messed up your skirt though.” He says, looking at the brown smudge left behind on the skirt.

“It's no big deal, it’ll come out.” You shrug, getting a good look at him this time. He's taller than you thought, with a sharp bone structure that's softened by large, hazel eyes and pouty lips. His hair is slicked back, curling at the nape of his neck, the color a soft brown that matches his eyes. Yeah, one of him should really come in every bookstore, you think.

“O-okay, uh, if you're sure…” He says, rubbing his hands on his pants. A nervous energy emanates from him, disrupting your idea that he's calm and tranquil.

Oh well, there goes that fantasy. Still, you wonder if maybe he's nervous because of you.

“I still feel bad though,” He adds, looking around, “Uh, how about I buy you a book for the inconvenience?”

“It's hardly an inconvenience,” You laugh, “But hey, I won't say no to a free book.”

He perks up, “Great. I'm Spencer, by the way.”

“Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Spencer.”

He repeats your name, and you find yourself enjoying the shape his mouth makes as he tests it out, lips and tongue wrapping around the syllables as if he wants to commit the way it feels in his memory.

You mentally kick yourself in the ass, wondering if you've read too many romance novels.

“Likewise,” He smiles, and you have to remind yourself that it's rude to stare at the lips of someone you just met. It's not your fault he has such pretty dimples, and you had the urge to count them. He continues, “So what kind of books do you like, Y/N? Romance?”

Your eyes narrow at that. You wonder how to answer. Yes? Would he judge you if you say yes? Is he one of those guys, the ones who only read heavy, intellectual books and look down on people who read fluff? Do you want to try and impress him by saying no, by scoffing and saying something like of course not I’m looking for a copy of Swann's Way by Marcel Proust? (which is the most “impressive” book you can think of at the moment). The idea seems too gross, too I'm not like other girls, and you immediately cross it out.

“And if I do?” you ask instead, surprised by the edge to your voice.

He blinks, then shrugs, looking entirely innocent. “Then we should head to the romance shelf over there.”

Once again, you're surprised. Some part of you had been expecting a smirk, maybe a roll of his eyes, that look you get when you even dare to bring up the romance genre. But, no. He starts walking to a different part of the store and you're forced to follow.

“Why did you think I read romance?” the words escape your lips before you can stop them.

He ducks behind a shelf, his hair falling down and hiding his face but you get a glimpse of the bright red skin of his neck. He's blushing again.

“Well, it's - ah - that is, I've noticed you here before, and you always seemed to hang out here in the romance section.” He says in a rush, his head still angled away from you.

You feel simultaneously called out, and a little giddy. So he's noticed you, just as much as you'd noticed him.

“So you're a stalker.” You can't help but tease.

He lets out a sound, somewhere between an indignant sputter and a scoff. “What? No! I just happen to be very observant, it's a skill I've learned to hone for my job, and you're not very hard to remember-” He cuts himself off, peeking at you with a horrified look on his face.

Laughter tumbles from your lips, and you clamp your teeth down your bottom lip to stop.

“I was teasing you.” You say, trying to fight the giggles.

He seems relieved, but the crease on his brow remains, a sign of his previous embarrassment.

“And you're right. The romance section has the biggest amount of secondhand books that I can read while I'm here.” You explain. This aisle also gives you the best view of the nonfiction section, which he frequents, therefore giving you the perfect spot to observe him over the past few weeks. Though you leave out that part.

“Ah,” He nods, looking around, “See anything you like?”

“No, I'm actually looking for a copy of The Hobbit right now.”

He lights up, “Oh, you're a fan of Tolkien too? I love him, he's such a genius and completely innovated the fantasy genre! So much so that he - wait, if you're looking for The Hobbit, why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“You just started walking.” You reply, smiling at him. He's adorable when he becomes so animated, hands waving around like his body can't contain his excitement and has to find ways to express them physically. “Had to follow you. But anyway, I'm assuming you've read The Hobbit?”

He accepts your explanation easily, then nods his head. You can't help but compare him to a puppy, so eager and nearly frantic in his excitement.

“I've read every Tolkien book.” He says, and you're surprised to find his voice contains no hint of superiority, or cockiness. Just genuine joy. It's refreshing, “Including The Silmarillion."

“Oh wow,” You laugh, aware of the reputation that tome carries, “I've only seen the Lord of The Rings movies.”

“Well that's not sufficient at all! You're missing out on so much history,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mhm, well help me find The Hobbit first, before I move on to the trilogy.” You reply, already walking over to where you know the fantasy books are.

He follows you, smiling bashfully, “You know, I have copies of all the books… I can just lend them to you, if you want.”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder in surprise. “You'd let a stranger borrow your books?”

“Only if you promise to take care of them.” He says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I swear on my life, I will not tarry your precious copies of Tolkien's masterpiece.” You make a cross over your heart for emphasis, which makes him laugh. This time, you stare at his lips shamelessly, enjoying the dimples that appeared from the action.

“Okay, maybe we meet up over coffee sometime?” he asks, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I'll bring the books.”

You fight the urge to squeal. Your body refuses to contain the giddiness, and the sound compromises by coming out as a giggle.

“Yeah, sure.” you watch as he digs into his pocket, handing over a card. “Oh, how very professional.” You say playfully, accepting the slip of paper.

He ducks his head, and you see the beginnings of the blush creeping down his neck. It feels exhilarating, being able to make him blush like this.

“It's just more practical.” He mumbles.

You grab your phone quickly, typing in his number and giving it a call, so that your number goes through his as well. “I'll give you a call. But, you still owe me a book for this.” You motion at your skirt, at the stain of his footprint on the fabric.

He chuckles, “Of course. Can't go back on my promise.” he looks around the store and you're taken by the sight of him, looking like he's part of the space, like he simply belongs here. And this time, with you standing next to him, with him. “Take your pick.”

“I'm pretty indecisive.” You say playfully.

“I have time.” He smiles, and you find he has two dimples on one side of his face, and only one on the other. Your chest feels heavy with something that you can't quite put a name to yet, but you're eager for more of it.

CAN SOMEONE PLS WRITE A SPENCER REID X READER ABOUT THE READER NOT HAVING VERY CHRISTMASES GROWING UP SO SHE DOESNT CELEBRATE OR SHES A SCROOGE WHEN IT COMES TO THE HOLIDAYS AND REID NOTICES THIS AND GOES ALL OUT FOR HER BC SHE LIKES HER???? this is a need bc i’m not feeling very jolly this year 😞

CAN BE FLUFF OR SMUT OR BOTH I JUST WANT IT TO BE FLUFFY

No One is Alone

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: Spencer realizes you guys might have more in common than he thought when he finds out your parent also has schizophrenia.

Category: Angst, mostly Fluff

Warnings: poorly written one-shot (sorry y’all), crying, reader’s father has schizophrenia, concerned spencer, reader tells a story about her father having an episode, reader’s father is a violent schizophrenic but this does not reflect on those who have schizophrenia! reader has semi-daddy issues, reader has hair but hair color and length is not mentioned! spencer being such a sweetheart! <3

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! back at it again with another lil fanfic one-shot? so i wrote this one to be kind of a personal one since my own parent has schizophrenia and honestly it’s one of the reasons i relate to spencer so much. i’m sorry if this affects anyone, but i wanted to write this one for myself :) i don’t know too much about schizophrenia, i only just know what i was feeling so a lot of this is just reader feeling a lot of feelings and spencer comforting them! i hope you like this one nonetheless! <3

You were constantly checking your cell phone. Every two minutes and ten seconds, you kept checking. And after that, you’d sigh in relief, rub your temples and go right back to work. You’d repeated this for over an hour and a half.

And Spencer had been watching it. Watching you. Of course, not to be creepy or anything. He’d just happened to notice and he was concerned.

You’d joined the BAU a little over less than a year ago and still not one person knew anything about you. Except Spencer. You often kept to yourself but somehow opening up to him was just easier. He never judged, never pried. Some might say that maybe that’s because he had a bit of a crush on you and you wouldn’t exactly deny the fact that you thought he was cute.

Spencer had looked away as he went to focus back on his work and then your phone started to vibrate and you quickly picked it up, nearly knocking over your coffee off your desk — and walked away from your desk.

“Hello?” You’d asked a little frantically as you marched out of the bullpen.

Spencer had looked around before leaving his desk, deciding to follow you out of the bullpen to see what you were up to. He’d followed your voice to an empty office and peeked in as he saw the back of your head.

“So you’re both okay?” You’d asked and waited for the response on the phone. Your tense shoulders sank in relief as your head bowed down and you nod, “That’s good. And Dad’s back on his medication?” Medication? Spencer furrowed his brows as he watched you nod along to the conversation.

“Okay, that’s good. And you sure you’re gonna be fine?” You asked and waited once more. “Okay, well, I’m at work, so I got to let you go.“ A small pause. “Okay, I love you, Mom. Bye.”

You hang up and put your phone back in your pocket and you take a minute. Your head bows down once more and Spencer all of a sudden sees your back bouncing up and down and he can hear you crying. He frowns, he hates seeing you cry.

Spencer decides to back away, going to leave you alone since it seems like you need it right now. But the floorboard creaks underneath his shoes and you turn around with a gasp and you finally see the man with a guilty look on his face.

“Reid…” You turn away quickly as you begin to wipe your eyes and your nose. “What are you—?” Spencer shakes his head and holds his arms up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just… I saw you kept checking your phone and I was worried so I just wanted to… check on you.”

Spencer walks into the room more and he can see just how puffy and red your eyes are and his heart aches at that. “Are you okay?” He asks in a small voice and you take a deep breath and nod your head but your eyes say it all.

“I just… I don’t want to bother you with it.” You say in a hoarse voice and Spencer wonders if your voice has sounded like that all day.

He walks into the room fully and shuts the door behind him as you sit on the floor and Spencer’s heart breaks even more as he sits next to you on the floor.

“You are not bothering me with anything,” Spencer tells, placing an arm around you to comfort you. Granted, he’s a little awkward when he does it but he still does so. “Will you tell me what’s the matter?”

You sniffle and look down as you fiddle with the ends of your sweater. “Uh… it’s my dad.” Spencer sighs, thinking that something may have happened to him. He didn’t know that he wasn’t far off from his hypothesis. You didn’t talk about your family much, just that you had parents that were still together and that you had a fairly normal childhood.

“He’s, uh,” You sniffle once more. “He’s not… well.” From your sentence, Spencer would’ve assumed that maybe your dad was physically ill but the way your tone sounded, something was off.

“What do you mean ‘not well’?” Spencer asked and you looked down at your hands, avoiding any and all eye contact. But nonetheless, you decide to rip off the band-aid. “My dad, uh, he has… schizophrenia.”

“And he had one of his episodes because he forgot to take his medication. And my mom called me and she was scared because he keeps thinking that there’s a family living in our basement. Or that I’ve been kidnapped by them. And my mom was so scared he was gonna hurt someone. And… he…” You pause and try to hold it together. “He… threw a knife at my mom.” You wipe your eyes once more. “They’re at the hospital now and he’s medicated and my mom is okay. But the way she sounded, she was so scared, Spencer.”

“He… he’s usually violent when he has his episodes. And the medication… the medication helps. On the medication, he’s normal. But he’s… forgetful sometimes. He was, uh, diagnosed when I was ten. I can’t tell you how many times I had to lock myself in my room when he got like that.”

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. And it was like his childhood seemingly flashed before his eyes. He’d been through the same thing with his mother. Hell, they probably shared the same story at one point. He had no idea you went through that, too. And suddenly all he could envision was a young you, going through the same thing with your dad and his heart broke again.

“It’s like… sometimes, I can’t escape it. And it’s like I’m a kid again and… sometimes, I fear I may… end up like him.” You start to sob again and this time, Spencer pulls you in close and holds you as he cry into his dress shirt.

You stay like that for a good thirty minutes until you finally pull away. Your eyes have gotten even more puffier and you wipe them with the ends of your sleeve.

“You must think I’m such a wreck.” You attempt to joke. But Spencer shake his head and pulls a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I definitely don’t. In fact, I understand.”

You nod at him, knowing his own history with his mother having schizophrenia. He was open about it but you never felt like talking about it, in fears no one would understand. And you never told Spencer because he had his own fair share of “crazy”, you didn’t want to burden him with that.

“I wish you would’ve told me this sooner so that you weren’t dealing with this all by yourself.” Spencer tells, he strokes your arm with his hand as you shake your head, “I didn’t want to bother you with it.” You reveal.

Spencer shakes his head at you, “You could never bother me. I understand this subject all too well. Do you know how many times a day I fear the fact that I may receive the schizophrenic gene? Let me tell you, Y/n, a lot.” You look down and Spencer looks at you, “I just want you to know that you’re not alone. No matter how much you think you may be. You’re never alone.”

With a nod, you grab his hand and hold it and he rubs his thumb against your knuckles, as if it’s serving as a reminder that he’s here, with you. And he understands.

“Can we just stay here for a minute?” You ask, quietly — almost wanting to kick yourself in the head for even suggesting it in case he didn’t or had other things to attend to.

“We can stay here as long as you need.” Spencer assured and you smile at him and thank God that he was the one that followed you and not anyone else.

You handled things by yourself since you were a kid. You’d always been independent and that meant you were so used to being alone and dealing with your dad’s schizophrenia, you didn’t think twice when you decided not to talk to Spencer about it. But he’d made it clear that you could talk to him if needed.

And maybe for once, you didn’t feel alone. And maybe somebody else could understand.

When You’re Lost in the Darkness, Look for the Light

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: Your ex, Spencer Reid, has just lost his girlfriend due to her being murdered. When all else fails with the BAU team helping him get through this loss, the only person left to help is you.

Category: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: established past relationship, maeve arc, takes place after 8x12 “Zugzwang”, mentions of death and suicide, technically an AU for 8x13 “Magnum Opus”, spencer is obviously still mourning maeve, mentions of lauren storyline, mentions of breakups, reader was in a past relationship before spencer, kinda sad, hopeful ending(?) let me know if i missed anything! <3

Author’s Note: i feel like this was a bit rushed, especially towards the end butttt i might make a part two to this- just let me know if i should :)

It’d been a few weeks since what happened. Spencer witnessing his girlfriend being murdered right in front of him by her stalker. You knew that he was taking it hard, of course, who wouldn’t after seeing something like that?

The team had been frequently visiting him. Garcia had stopped by with her ninth gift basket on his doorstep, since he never answered. JJ had offered to bring the boys over to cheer him up but Spencer would never answer. Even Hotch, and Morgan tried to get him to get a breather outside of his apartment but of course, Spencer never answered. Blake and Rossi knew that he needed his space, knowing that a loss like this wasn’t easy.

Everyone on the team had tried, everyone except you. And honestly, why would you? Your breakup with Reid was enough reason not to go and see him.

You two had broken up when he’d found out you’d known about Emily taking her death. (You weren’t even supposed to know about it, you had just stumbled across Hotch and JJ having the conversation after you’d found out that your best friend was dead.) After she’d come back when they had a lead on Ian Doyle’s son, Spencer had later confronted you and told you he couldn’t forgive you for knowing for ten months and not telling him about it.

You expressed just how much it pained you not to tell him but that she couldn’t risk telling him. He had to understand that. Frankly, he didn’t.

And it seemed that he still hadn’t forgiven you since then.

It’d been over a year since you last had a full conversation with him since then, only opting for small talk or only talking when it was relevant to whatever case they were on.

And then you found out about Maeve. There were whispers around the office, Spencer was smiling more in the office, he was secretive and not to mention the case with the payphone that you and Blake took him to after needing answers regarding a case. You and Blake badgered him, wanting answers as to why he was being so secretive.

And then his words confirmed it for you — “Because I don’t want them to know about her, okay?”

And so, he had a girlfriend. And you were perfectly okay with that. Of course, it hurt that he’d moved on but someone had to, eventually, right?

Since then, you had avoided him any chance you had. If you two were alone in the kitchenette, you were the one who left first. If there was a spot on the jet open next to Spencer, you’d offer it to someone else quietly. You figured pushing him away — even professionally — was the best thing you could do for your own mental health.

But then Spencer’s girlfriend had gone missing. And you weren’t exactly forced to work a case but it sure felt like it when Hotch said that you guys would be working on your free time. You had half the mind to walk out of the bullpen right then and there. But then you looked at Spencer. Spencer, who looked like a kicked puppy dog with his sad eyes, messy hair and anxious stance and pleading, begging the team to help find her. And you knew that he’d always be your weakness, no matter what. And you’d like to think that maybe he’d do the same for you if the roles were reversed.

It’d taken a few to discover that Maeve’s stalker was Diane Turner, a research assistant at Mendel University where Maeve used to work. Diane applied and was rejected for a PhD after submitting a doctoral thesis about spontaneous cellular death in suicide patients, due to said thesis being biased as it contained references to her own parents, who’d committed suicide. She targeted Maeve, believing she was the one responsible for rejecting her PhD.

You remembered the minute you heard gunshots in the building, heart dropping at the possibility that it may have been Spencer who was shot at, since he offered to trade himself for Maeve. And thought it was better if the team were to wait outside of the building.

You remembered trying to talk him off the ledge but he simply ignored you and went into the building anyway without a vest.

You remembered Spencer trying to talk Diane down as she held a gun to Maeve’s head and growing anxious at the fact that Diane was getting more and more angry.

You remembered what Maeve spoke to him — her last words — “Thomas Merton, he’s the one you can never take away from us.” The proof of how much she loved him.

You remembered Diane pulling the trigger on herself and Maeve and Spencer’s painful pleading as both Diane and Maeve landed on the ground in a puddle of their own blood.

And you hated it but you remembered Spencer falling to his knees, sobbing over Maeve’s body. You could hardly believe it, even when it happened right in front of you. You’d fallen beside him, hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him the best way possible. And he grabbed your hand. Granted, he probably didn’t know or didn’t care enough to know who it was in that moment, but he took your hand anyways.

And since then, not a word from Spencer. And it was starting to worry the rest of the team.

But when you arrived in the office a few weeks after, staring at Spencer’s empty desk, JJ had spoken up and said — “Everyone else has tried but you. And I think you’re the person he needs right now.”

You’d responded, telling her that you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now in his time of mourning. But JJ had encouraged you. You’d known him in ways the team didn’t. Hell, you dated him. And you also knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.

A few years before you dated Spencer, you had had a boyfriend. You were dating him for three years until he lost his life in a car accident. You were heartbroken from the lost and you didn’t go to work for over a month after. The only person that gotten you through that had been Spencer. He always had a way with words and you remembered him being there for you the entire time you dealt with it. A couple of years later, you and him finally began to date.

And now here you were, standing outside of his apartment, wondering how the hell you got yourself in this mess. You’d told Hotch that you needed to take care of something and that you wouldn’t be joining them on this upcoming case. It was true and it wasn’t like you to just call out of work unless it was an emergency. It technically wasn’t a lie, Spencer was your emergency. And you knew that Hotch would understand.

You’d hesitantly knocked, so quietly. “Spencer? It’s me,” You’d spoken up, your voice hoarse. “I, uh, I know I’m the last person you probably want to talk to right now… but… I’m here. If you need anything, I’m right here.” You assured.

To make your point, you moved two of the gift baskets away from the door so you can plop right down on the floor to sit against the door. “And I’m not going anywhere.” You rested the back of your head against the door. “And we don’t have to talk. We can wait however long you need to. I’ll be here.”

“But, please, give me something so I know that you’re alive in there.” You asked and quietly pleaded, “Please.”

You’d waited thirty seconds before you lost hope entirely and then three soft knocks came from the other side of the door and you smiled to yourself in relief that at least he was conscious.

And soon the minutes turned into hours, with you resting your head against that door and shifting a couple of times to get comfortable. Spencer still hadn’t budged since he’d knocked on the door. You’d taken the opportunity to help yourself to one of Garcia’s gift baskets since Reid hadn’t seemed to claim them. You’d opted for one of the fresher baskets since the others had probably been sitting for about a few weeks now. There was a basket with the mini chocolate chip muffins that you snacked on while sitting there.

And after hours and hours of still waiting there with no peep from Spencer, your eyes began to flutter closed at how sleepy you were getting. Sleeping outside of Spencer’s apartment wasn’t the best place for your back or your neck but you had slept in worse places.

You’d probably succumbed to sleep at least a few hours later until you had a rude awakening involving Spencer finally opening his door.

You hit your head right on the floor, which had woke you up. “Ow.” You muttered and looked up, seeing Spencer’s ghostly figure standing above you. You could’ve sworn you were dreaming. “Spencer?”

“You’re still here?” He asked, confusion in his voice. You finally stood up from the floor and nodded at him to answer as he began to walk away from the door and went back to the couch.

It was then that you got a look at his apartment. There were books on the floor everywhere. If you knew better, you’d say Spencer may have thrown them out of anger, pain. Old takeout boxes on the kitchen counter and living room table. It smelt like death — (but it actually might’ve been Spencer). You had to squint to look around since it’d been so dark. “Oh, Spencer…” You mumbled and turned to him on the couch. He was in a fetal position on the cushions, his hair falling in front of his face with an evident frown engraved on his face. He looked like a fragile child and it ached your heart to see him like that.

You found yourself kneeling in front of him and brushed the hair away from his face — like it was second nature to you. Like you’ve done it before. And you have.

You looked around, wondering what you should do, what you can do. And you finally find something small to start with. “When was the last time you slept in your own bed?” You asked and Spencer didn’t answer. You expected that.

You stood up from kneeling in front of Spencer and walked to his room, grabbing a few clothes — a plain t-shirt, a pair of underwear, plaid pajama pants and a pair of mismatched socks. You then went into the hall closet to pull out a towel and a washcloth for him and walked towards the bathroom to start running the water. He always liked it not too hot or not too cold but just warm enough.

You walked into the living room and found Spencer sitting up on the couch. “Why don’t you hop in the shower? I’ve got it running the way you like it.” It took a few seconds but Spencer nodded at you and began to trudge to the bathroom. He’d left the door a crack and you wondered why he did. But then it occurred to you that maybe he didn’t want to feel quite alone for a minute and you were right there if he needed anything. And he knew you had a guilty conscience, knowing that if he had closed the door and he’d done something to himself, you’d never forgive yourself. And you wouldn’t want him trapping himself in the bathroom either.

As Spencer went into the shower, you’d taken care of the rest of the apartment. You started with opening the blinds to bring some sort of light in and then with the kitchen counter, clearing out all of the old takeout boxes and washing dishes and wiping down the table and putting the books back on the shelves. All except for one. The Narrative of John Smith, it’d been the one book that he was clutching onto the entire time she’d been here until you told him to get into the shower. You knew he needed to put that one away on his own terms.

You fixed the couch up, laying the throw blanket neatly over the couch and then walked to his room, setting up his own bed. Wanting for him to be as comfortable as possible.

When he finally exited the bathroom, you didn’t hear him. You hadn’t heard his footsteps as he looked around the living room, seeing how you tidied up the place while he was in the shower. He almost thought you left, until he heard your humming from the other room. You were singing to yourself, a habit you picked up often doing casual things like laundry or spring cleaning. He missed the nonchalance of your presence and as he walked towards the door and found you making his bed, he missed it even more. Missed you even more.

You finally noticed that you weren’t alone, looking up to see him in the doorway and you smiled towards him. “Oh, hi.” You said and he walked into the room, looking down at his newly made bed. “Are you feeling better?”

He didn’t answer verbally, just shrugged.

You didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, you look down at his perfectly made bed and say, “Why don’t you get some rest?”

Spencer nods at you weakly and gets under the covers. You almost want to tuck him in, like he’s a child, but you refrain from doing so. You look down at him and felt like you’ve done everything you could for him. Made sure he showered, tidied his apartment. Surely he’s sick of you being here now.

You ease the awkward tension, sucking in a breath and patting your knees. “Well… I’m just… gonna… see myself out. Get all of the rest you can, Spencer. No rush to come back, just take your time.” You assure finally and silently plead him to ask you to stay longer. Because you don’t exactly feel accomplished at the fact that you haven’t done anything except ask him to take a shower and clean his apartment. It didn’t really feel like a win. Instead, you felt more heartbroken for Spencer.

And somehow, by some miracle, you felt him grab your hand and you turned to face him and his gleaming eyes. “Can you…” The words trailed off from his lips as he stares into your eyes. “Can you stay?” You look at him, with wide eyes. It was like he read your mind. “Please?”

You look at him and try to maintain your composure as much as you can. Because this is the first time he’s asked you to stay the night since you two were together. “Yeah, of course, Spencer.”

He moves towards the other side of the bed to make room for you and you’re shocked by the gesture. You hadn’t shared a bed with him since you were together, either. You sit up against the headboard and he gravitates towards your thigh, resting his head on it and closes his eyes and your hand finds his hair, running a hand through it and trying to maintain his curls at the back of his neck.

Then, you remember. You look towards the drawer next to the bed on your side and wonder. You open the drawer and sure enough, there it was. The brown comb you left behind. You often used it to brush his hair, especially when it was shaggy down his shoulders and he’d often rest his head on your thigh like he was doing now and you’d run your hand through his locks until you’d finally bought a comb. It surprised you that he still kept it. You would’ve thought it ended up in his ‘Y/n box’ like how everything of his ended up in your ‘Spencer box’.

And like second nature, you began to brush his damp locks with the comb, trying your best to angle your arm to not interrupt his rest. You softly smiled at the scene, his eyes closed and nose scrunching every few minutes or so.

You’d suspected that maybe he’d fallen asleep to you combing his hair because his breathing evened and he was quiet with his eyes still remaining closed. But you still found yourself still combing through his hair despite getting the tangles all out.

“I miss her,” He admitted and for a moment, you stopped your movements, not only because his words shocked you but also because you thought he was asleep. “I miss Maeve.” He added and you notice as his lip quivers at his own mention of his dead girlfriend and you do everything in your power to keep your lip from doing the same.

“I know.” You say, your voice so soft and nurturing as you continued to comb through his hair.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else but you were glad he’d spoken out just what he was feeling in that moment. You lean against the headboard, wishing to say more but what Spencer really needed right now was someone in his corner, not someone who wanted to give their own opinion about the situation or relate to him — just someone to listen to him.

You continue brushing until you finally decide that his hair is silky smooth and place the comb on the table next to you and look down at his resting face and instead of the frown you’d seen earlier, you finally see some sort of look of peace. Of course, the sadness is still etched on him from a mile away. But you glad to grant him some form of peace in a time where he’s most desperate of it.

You begin to run your hand through his hair, massaging his scalp like you often used to do when you were together. And for a moment, it’s like you two are dating again and it’s like it’s casual, like you’ve done this before — which you have. But it’s been so long, you never thought you’d be in this position again.

Eventually, he falls asleep on your thigh and his soft breathing is more even than it was before and his mouth is slightly parted as he sleeps. And you don’t care about the crick you’re going to get in your neck from this headboard, you don’t care that your leg is dead and that your pant leg is slightly damp from his wet hair. What matters more than anything right now is him getting the rest he deserves.

And what mattered more than anything and your goal was that Spencer was going to fight through this gaping hole of darkness and find his light eventually. And somewhere deep down inside of you, though you’d never admit it out loud — you hoped that that light was you.

he’s giving once-ler is his “how bad i can i be?” stage 😭😭😭

One Bed…

S6! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: You and Reid get paired together in a hotel room after a case, only to discover there’s only one bed in the hotel room. And that said hotel room is freezing.

Category: Fluff!

Warnings: established friendship, age gap between reid & reader (8 years, spencer is 29, reader is 21/22), takes place mid-season 6, pre-lauren storyline- all basic criminal minds themes, (nothing too graphic, just mentions of a case)- mentions of 4x07 “Memoriam”, 4x26 “…And Back”, 5x01 “Faceless, Nameless”, reid is a reduced to a dummy when it comes to women, teasing, mutual crushing, cuddling, all the fluff! slowburn (?) that should cover it(?)

Author’s Note: hey, lovelies! this is my first time writing on tumblr so please take it easy on me, it’s my first time doing this, haha! my specialty is wattpad and this was originally an idea i had for one of my books but i realized it more so fit reid x reader so here y’all are!! <3

It was a pretty tough case. The ones with children always were, at least. Since it was now the nighttime, everyone had headed back to their hotel for the night. They would be flying home early the very next day.

Hotch had told the team that they would all have to share their rooms as they headed up to the third floor, where all of their rooms were. Hotch handed Emily, Morgan, you and Reid two keycards so they could figure out how they were rooming.

Naturally, Hotch and Rossi went to go share a room. You looked over at Emily, but realized she soon called the room with Morgan. You furrowed her brows at Emily and the woman shrugs, “You snore.”

You deny the rumor and shake your head, “I don’t snore.” Morgan and Emily chuckle to themselves as Morgan opens up their room door with one of the keycards.

“It don’t matter,” Morgan replied. “You’re still sharing a room with Reid.” He tosses over yours and Reid’s keycard to you and you catch it with a sigh as you watch the two disappear into their hotel room.

You turn around and look over at Reid, who is showing off his tight-lipped smile, and holding his satchel strap on his shoulder. He almost looks sad at your reaction to you two sharing a room together. “S-Sorry.” He apologizes, not exactly knowing what he’s sorry for once he says it.

You shake your head and furrow your brows at Reid. “Oh, don’t be sorry, Reid. I’d rather actually share a room with you than either of them.” You lean closer and whisper a bit. “They both snore.”

“We heard that!” Morgan and Emily shout from the other room.

“You were meant to!” You shout back.

Reid has a small smile protruding onto his face as he looks down and you nudge your head towards the room next door. “Come on, I’m wiped.” You yawn, holding the keycard in her hand.

As soon as you open the door, you’re full on expecting two beds — one you’re expecting to crash on after your nightmare of a case and the other you expect Reid to be reading on for the rest of the night, since he barely sleeps enough as it is.

Once you opened that door, your heart dropped. “Oh, my God.” You groan as you throw your head to the ceiling in disbelief and Reid peeks over your shoulder to see what the issue is.

You’re both staring at a menacing queen sized bed, right in the middle of the room.

You chuckle to yourself in disbelief. Of course, you and Reid were stuck with the room that only had one bed. This was bound to happen at some point with the amount of times you’ve had to share a room together. But this was different now that you realized you had a crush not too long ago.

You’d had a bad morning so far. You forgot to set your alarm clock, your coffee machine broke and you wound up with a stain on the shirt you were planning on wearing today to work.

This day could not have possibly gotten worse when you’d taken the Metro this morning and dealt with the crowd of people standing near the door and had to fight your way through them in order to get out.

But your morning ended up taking a turn for the better when you’d walked up to your desk to find your coffee order with a chocolate cake pop next to it.

You looked over at Reid and he smiled at you, guiltily and that’s when you realized he’d be the only person that makes a bad day turn better. And that these feelings you were hiding were blossoming into more.

It didn’t help that Morgan also teased you about it, saying how the pretty boy is falling for the pretty girl and how he didn’t manage to get his or Emily’s coffee orders like he did with you.

And then, you’d fallen hard.

And you worried that this was only going to make it worse.

Both you and Reid looked at one another and you sighed as you placed her go-bag next to the bed.

“I can just sleep on the floor.” Reid offers, already settling his stuff on the floor.

You turn to him, shaking your head. “No, you don’t have to do that, it’s fine.” And you feel bad that he even suggested it to you.

“No, I insist. I don’t- I don’t sleep that much anyways. And you could use the rest.” He told, no hint of annoyance in his voice as he spoke.

You looked back on the bed. You couldn’t ask him to do that. Not for you, as much as the gesture seemed polite. But you’d feel bad if he didn’t at least get a few hours of sleep on a nice bed rather than a hard floor.

Which is why, after their nighttime routines, you were placing pillows in between yourself and Reid. Reid had noticed the goosebumps on your skin as you fixed the pillows between them. He saw that you opted for a white top and sweatpants to wear to bed. No doubt you were freezing.

“This is a pillow barrier. We cannot cross the pillow barrier. The pillow barrier prevents any contact. So, it’s not… weird. Okay?” You explained and Reid nodded to your words. “Okay.”

With that, you turned off the lamp on your bedside and Reid’s was still on because he was currently reading. His book tonight was The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury. You’d been the only one who he talked to about it, something about science fiction short stories and how it was his twelfth time reading it.

Your heart absolutely fluttered that day he talked about it, the light in his eyes gleaming with excitement as his mouth moved quickly to explain what he was reading to you. You often hated when Morgan or JJ would quiet him down due to his rambling, but you loved every minute of it.

(Of course, it may have had something to do with the fact that you’ve been harboring a massive crush on him ever since you joined the bureau nearly three years ago.)

An hour or so had passed and Reid had finally gone to bed. But your slumber was being interrupted by the freezing cold air every hour or so. You were confused on how a hotel room could be so freaking cold.

You turned over to see Reid’s backside and realized that one of the pillows had been removed from the pillow barrier and then realized you were the one that had been holding the pillow.

But you held onto it even tighter when the cold air touched your skin and you moved deeper into the covers. Doing so, you realized your foot nudged against Reid’s leg. You also noticed that Reid was still awake because he turned his head over to the girl.

“S-Sorry.” You muttered as you burrowed yourself deeper in the covers. Reid then sat up and turned the lamp on. “Are you cold?” He asked.

“J-J-Just a little.” You admitted, teeth chattering as you spoke. It had to have been below 40 degrees in this room. Reid stood up from his side of the bed and you felt him get up and you turned over to see what he was doing.

You then saw Reid had reached into his bag and picked up one of his sweaters. It was his red cardigan sweater he’d worn just about a couple of cases back. He was gonna wear it tomorrow before they left but he hadn’t had a use for it at the moment.

“Here,” Reid spoke, tossing the cardigan to you on the bed. “You need it more than I do.” You didn’t bother to get out of the covers as you put it on and wrapped it around your body.

“Sorry I woke you up.” You apologized to Reid as he got back in the covers. “No, it’s fine. I was already awake.” Reid stated, turning the lamp on before getting deep in the covers as well.

“You never went to bed?” You asked. “Can’t really attempt to sleep when all you can hear is teeth chattering nonstop.” Reid told, and you chuckled a bit through your shivers. “Sorry.” She said. “It’s okay, really. I don’t sleep much anyways.” Reid admitted and you turned over to him.

You two looked into each other’s eyes and you’d scooted back a bit, realizing you were getting way too close. No, no, don’t think about kissing his perfect lips, right now. But you felt the heat radiating off of his body practically.

“Any facts on how to stay warm?” You joked and Reid shrugged. “Well, there’s warm beverages like hot tea and coffee that could help you stay warm. Moving around at least once an hour and avoid sitting still for long periods. Even light exercise will help keep you warm. There’s also—”

Reid then stopped himself and you furrowed her eyebrows at him. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Oh, this is usually where most people stop me from droning on an on.” He said. “I’m aware that I tend to ramble a lot.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” You told and Reid was left confused for a moment. “Go on.” You encouraged.

You always loved his quirks, his personality, his rambling, the way he often sported cashmere cardigans and mismatched socks because he thought it was good luck. Everything about him you just seemed to enjoy. And he didn’t seem to realize it until now.

Spencer smiled to himself a bit and carried on with his last sentence, hoping to God it wouldn’t sound strange suggesting it. “There’s, uh, also sharing, uh… body heat with… someone. The rate of heat transferred from one body to another increases with the difference in temperature between them. Consequently, the rate of heat lost from a human to the surrounding very cold ambient environment is lower than the rate of heat lost from a human to another human. Like, cuddling, for example, it actually has warming benefits.” He explained, finishing off with his signature tight-lipped smile.

“Cuddling?” You questioned, raising a brow at Reid.

Reid looked at you and realized that maybe you viewed that fact as him trying to cuddle with you and felt as if he was initiating something that he didn’t mean to initiate.

“Not-Not-Not that I, uh, was suggesting that, uh… we-we should, no, I do-did-didn’t—” After stuttering numerous times, Reid nearly just shut up completely and was happy that you had finally decided to interrupt him.

“No, it’s, uh,” You sat up a bit. “It’s actually not a bad idea.” It was Reid’s turn to be confused now as he raised a brow at you this time. “I mean, if you are-if you are… uh, com-comfortable with it… that is.”

Reid’s mouth is open in shock and you close your eyes, now realizing how it sounds. “Oh, God, this just got weird. Uh, how about I just sleep on the floor tonight?”

“No!” Reid answered immediately and you looked back at him, in shock on how fast he denied that. He clears his throat. “I mean, I don’t-I don’t mind. As long as, uh, y-you don’t?” He finished off in rather a question than a statement.

“Uhm, not-not at all. I’m freezing anyways.” It took a second for either one to move so you just started off by removing the rest of the pillow barrier between them. It a simple start to a grand finale.

Since Reid was very inexperienced on how to handle things with girls involved, you kind of just took the lead. You then hesitantly put your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat going 100 miles per hour as you did so.

Reid felt like he didn’t know where to put his hands and immediately settled his right arm around your waist. You kind of found it cute at how flustered he seemed. You wrapped her arm around his slender torso, holding onto him.

In the midst of getting comfortable, the heat radiated off both of their bodies and you snuggled closer subconsciously if anything. Reid’s head rested on top of yours as you moved closer.

“This, uh, this isn’t weird, right?” You asked, beating yourself up for even asking. “Not weird at all.” Reid assured, answering rather quickly. “I think it’s best if we don’t mention this at all to the team, though—” You nod faintly, “I agree.” She said. “They’d never let us live it down. This is purely because I’m cold, that’s it.” Reid agrees, “Yes, that’s all it is.”

She could see Morgan and Emily’s teasing and Garcia’s prying from a mile away. There was absolutely no way they’d live down the harrowing embarrassment.

“Do you think, you could like… I don’t know, give me like some… random facts about something?” You asked and Reid didn’t quite understand what you were asking. “It would really help me sleep.” You added, knowing you could listen to him all day if you wanted. And he’d secretly hoped you wanted to.

So, Reid decided to ramble about anything necessary. It started off with some minor body heating facts, then about numbers, then Doctor Who, then the hotel building’s history and the architecture.

What Reid didn’t realize was that you’d had fallen asleep as soon as he started talking about Doctor Who and he should’ve realized sooner when you stopped asking questions and started responding with ‘mm-hmm’ every few seconds until you were finally lulled to sleep.

He finally came to a stop around 3:30am and noticed that the teeth chattering had finally stopped. He looked down at you and had taken account of your features like he hadn’t before.

Your nose that scrunched up when you slept and had an itch to scratch. Her eyelids hiding the orbs he’d admire once in a while when you looked his way. Her lips (that were in dire need of chapstick at the moment) but nonetheless looked… good. Definitely not kissable. Your hair, which was currently to your shoulders once you cut it on a whim. He never told you but he liked it at this length. He preferred your hair longer when it was but you could suit anything and he’d still think you were pretty.

Yes, he’d admit it — Spencer Reid thought you were pretty.

There was a total of five times in his life now that he realized he may have a slight crush on you.

The first time being when you walked into the bullpen that first day. You started off with a consult on the case and he admittedly thought you very pretty and Garcia and Emily teased him for it. But he was allowed to think you were pretty without liking you. But when it came to it, he was stuttering like an idiot and his facts surrounding the case were running 100 miles an hour in his brain and Emily said something about his IQ being slashed to 60. That’s when he knew something was up. He never got like this before. But of course, he’d never admit it.

The second time was when you defended him in Las Vegas when he thought his dad murdered Riley Jenkins. When Morgan and Rossi were giving him a hard time, you’d taken his side. It didn’t help that you’d also had issues with your own father. He always knew he could relate to you with the daddy issues — it’s probably the reason why you two ended up so close. You’d stuck by his side during the whole thing and he’d known you wouldn’t exactly do that for anyone else on the team that quickly after you’d joined. And he’d do it for you, too.

The third time was the time when they had that case in Canada and you two were paired up to look into the life of their unsub, Lucas Turner. He remembered climbing on the ladder and you following behind him and how you almost fell off the unsteady ladder but he’d caught you. You were both stuck in a weird position at first, his hand around your waist and your arm around his neck. He remembered how he looked into your eyes and felt a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. And in a weird way, he sensed it from you too, but he wasn’t so sure if you felt the same way. He knew he was sure when you had immediately pulled away from the awkward encounter. But he couldn’t blame you. After that, the weird feeling in his stomach didn’t go away.

The fourth time was after he got shot in the leg and you had decided to stay with him for the night in the hospital. He didn’t even remember sleeping, if he was being honest. But he could remember your distinct laugh and your jokes and your facts about random stuff like he’d often do. You two had talked almost the whole night until maybe around 5am when you finally drifted off to sleep. He remembered how content he was when he turned over and had seen you sleeping right next to him. You looked uncomfortable in the chair you were sleeping in but you had wanted to be near him nonetheless. You had even taken him home once he was released. Of course, the team would come to visit before he got out of the hospital but you staying the entire time he was there meant more than anything.

The fifth and final time had been this moment. You, here, sleeping on his chest — simply because of body heat. He really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with that fact, he just thought he’d be telling you for her own benefit and to use that how you saw fit. He guessed, you saw it fit with him. And the fact that you liked his rambling, oh, that poor boy’s heart leaped so quickly.

But even after all these times he realized he may have a slight crush on you, he knew that you’d probably never feel the same way even with your head on his chest like this. You two were best friends and nothing more. Since JJ left, you two clung to the hip. You guys had each other now and that was pretty much all you needed. Of course, the two youngest team members should be friends, right?

Granted, you had eight years between you two which was also another reason why Reid couldn’t pursue his crush on you. You were twenty-one, turning twenty-two next month and he was coming up on twenty-nine. You’d started at the BAU the same time Rossi had, making you about eighteen when you were a consult on the case. But the way you carried yourself when you walked in the bullpen that day made you seem older. It seemed almost weird to him, liking you when you were so young. So, here he was, still holding back.

But now… times were different and they were different ages now and you were an adult in your early 20s. And finally since he maybe finally got to know you over the years, he realized you were an awesome person. An awesome person who bad things have happened to. In ways, he’d seen a younger version of himself walking through the BAU at times. You were nice and sweet and pretty and… well, Reid just didn’t know what his exact feelings were just yet.

When you two got up the next morning, you’d both kept your word about not reiterating a word to the team about their sleeping situation. You two actually hadn’t said a word to each other all morning because you were so busy, getting ready to leave for the jet.

And once you two left the room, you turned your key in and headed off to the jet to return home. What happened in that hotel room… stayed in that hotel room, as far as you guys were concerned.

But the one thing Reid told the team was that he didn’t even mind that you snored.

i hope y’all enjoyed my first tumblr story!! please let me know if y’all would like more!! :) thank you for reading! love you all!! <333

-mya

Can I recommend Daylight by christmasbarbie

will definitely be adding this one! <3

i love love LOVE girl!dad spencer reid but i am a firm believer in boy!dad spencer reid because i think he’d be a lil worried at first because of his whole relationship with his dad and not wanting that to reflect on the relationship with his son but in the end, he’s the best dad you’d ever want 🥹🥹

GUYS MGG HAS TIKTOK NOW HIDE THE EDITS

why is every spencer reid writer getting attacked on here ? wtf 😭😭

this.

WHY IS THERE NO WRITING FOR HIM

GUYS, IT'S LITERALLY SUPERMAN HAS NO ONE EVER SEEN SMALLVILLE?! IM GOING CRAZY BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING, NOT EVEN CRUMBS

PLS SOMEONE WRITE FOR HIM I WILL TAKE ANYTHING, FLUFF, ANGST, SMUT, HEADCANONS, DRABBLES, FULL ON FICS ANYTHING PLS, HES SO POOKIE

I literally got 1 (ONE) comment on ao3 for my spencelle fanfic, and that just made wanna come back to it lol. We as a society need to bring back commenting on fanfictions. I am sick and tired of not getting ANY feedback.

happy valentine’s day everyone