#spencer reid one-shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whereireid · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 | masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

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

— warnings: fluff, alcohol

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

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

And another. And another.

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Celebrate what?”

“Your first failure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Ask.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tags: @junieswrlds

718 notes · View notes

iluvreid · 7 months

Text

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

(cute little spencer gif bc why not 😉💋)

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

107 notes · View notes

misskingshit · 2 years

Text

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

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

i'm gonna do part 2 later

498 notes · View notes

hotchaways · 2 years

Note

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

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

Thanks thanks for your time at reading my request 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

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

182 notes · View notes

oceanmusings · 1 year

Text

Butterflies

Pairing | Spencer Reid x Arwen Valentine

Summary | Arwen moves in with Spencer.

Word Count | 1K

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

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

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

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

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

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

Touché.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m all sweaty!”

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

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

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

10 notes · View notes

appocalipse · 3 months

Text

selfish - spencer reid

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

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

"Coffee?"

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

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

"Yes, please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How did you..."

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

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

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

"Sorry," he says sheepishly.

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

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

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

"So...did you?"

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

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

Oh. Right. The date.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's complicated."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Spence?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Carnations?"

"Red ones."

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

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

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

Spencer nods, hesitanting.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being selfish."

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

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

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

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

It shatters on the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You do.

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

"It's not deep."

"Good to know."

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

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

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

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

"Thank you," you whisper.

"No problem."

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

Then, in unison: "I should go."

Neither of you move.

"Work..."

"Yeah. I have to send these emails."

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

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

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

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

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

And then—

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

"I'm not sure."

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

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

"You're not wrong."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you mean that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile.

"Still, sorry."

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

Next time.

"I would like that."

"Good."

And this time, neither of you goes anywhere.

939 notes · View notes

street-smarts00 · 3 months

Text

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 3.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something about you.

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you greeted.

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Huh?”

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered.

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

“Do you wanna lie down?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes you were.”

“Y/N please,” he begged.

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

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

“I was freaking out,” he blurted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here we go. Flood gates.

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

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

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That too,” he chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag Requests: @nomajdetective

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

5K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 5 months

Note

Hi Mei!! ♡ How about Reid dating a sunshine!reader who tells obviously wrong facts when he is in earsight, just to mess with him? Bc I think it would be so funny 😭😭 Anyway, have a nice day, and thank you so much for all your quality content, you're saving lives <333

"Oh my god Emily, you're never gonna believe this," You lean in towards the brunette grinning at you, but your voice stays loud enough for Spencer to hear across the desk, "I just found out that bowling is more dangerous than dinosaurs are."

Her brow dips but her lips quirk up, "Alright, you've hooked me. What's the punchline?"

"No punchline," You shake your head, feeling Reid's curious stare on the back of it, "In 2019 someone died at a bowling alley after slipping on the floor and splitting his head open. But in that same year, there wasn't a single death by dinosaur. Isn't that insane?"

Spencer is already piping up before Emily can properly laugh, but you can still hear her beneath his frantic, "Uh, honey, that's not- that's not exactly right. I mean, dinosaurs would be incredibly dangerous, if any of them were still alive. Which, in 2019- uh, they were not."

"Statistically speaking, Spence," You use his favorite phrase against him, but you're not sure he picks up on the teasing grin set on your face beyond the concern he's stewing in, "You can't argue with the numbers."

"Well- you can't, but in 2019, the number of dinosaurs alive was zero, so that's- that's the only number that really matters, baby, but if you wanted to read more about the risks associated with communal sports venues, I'd be happy to share some articles I've looked into on-"

"Ah, leave it to Reid to turn a sick-ass discussion about dinosaurs about the dangers of fun," Morgan scoffs. He wasn't in on your plan from the beginning, but he's happy to jump on the bandwagon, "Besides, the last Jurassic Park movie was made in 2022, so there were dinosaurs alive, duh."

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

5K notes · View notes

day-dreamed · 10 days

Note

could you do a shy!reader with early seasons Spencer? Like she’s completely starstruck by him and he’s super oblivious because he doesn’t understand how anyone could be that flustered by him? Thank u xoxo

spencer reid x reader

you’re absolutely enamored by spencer from the moment you meet him. the only problem? he’s oblivious.

cw: fem!bau!reader, shy!reader, early seasons!spence, spencer is completely oblivious, fluff, pining, use of y/n

It’s hard not to stare at Spencer when he’s passionately rambling about something, your mouth quirking up into a small smile at his gesticulations. You could listen to him for hours no matter what the topic of discussion was.

“Hello? Um, Earth to (Y/n)?”

You snap out of your thoughts, heat crawling up your neck. “Sorry!” you exclaim, offering a sheepish smile. “What’d you say?”

Spencer frowns. “Are you okay? You just seemed like you were a little lost in your head. For the whole time I’ve been talking to you, actually.”

“Yeah,” you nod fervently. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

His frown deepens. “Why do you always act so weird around me?” he asks softly. “Did I do something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable in any way?”

Your heart starts to pound against your ribcage at the unexpected questions, blood rushing in your ears. “Spencer…” you mumble, dropping your gaze from his.

“If that’s the case, then I’m really sorry—”

“But it’s not,” you blurt out, and your eyes widen.

So do his, his lips parting slightly. “It isn’t?”

“No, of course not,” you say, letting out a deep breath. “It’s, um, kind of the opposite, actually.”

You wring your fingers together as you wait for him to respond. The silence is excruciating, and you decide to be brave and glance up at him. He’s looking at you in a way that makes your breath hitch in your chest.

“You… oh.”

Your heart breaks, immediately taking his response as a rejection. “It’s okay, if—if you don’t like me back,” you tell him, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I hope that—”

“You like me?” Spencer asks, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“What?” you squeak out.

He furrows his brows. “I never even thought of the possibility… Since when?”

You let out a weak laugh. “Since the first day I met you, Spence.”

“Wow. That’s… a long time,” he breathes out. “Why me? When there’s people like Derek, or Elle, or—”

“It’s just you,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It’s only been you.”

A grin stretches across his lips at your words, and your stomach flips at the sight. “Well, that’s good, then. Because I really like you too.”

“Really?” you ask, smiling so wide that your cheeks start to hurt, your face on fire.

Spencer nods, still grinning as he reaches forward to take your hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Yeah, really.”

1K notes · View notes

strawbeerossi · 8 months

Text

The Ballad Of Dr. Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

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

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

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hands on-

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

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

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

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

There was no clean getaway.

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did.

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

“Deal.”

5K notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 10 days

Text

REFLECTED BLISS

When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest Requested: Here

“Oh my god.”

“What? What is it?”

“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”

He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”

“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”

His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”

“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.”

“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”

“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”

His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”

“What do you mean?”

His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”

He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”

Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”

“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.

Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.

He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing.

“I guess that makes sense.”

His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”

“Perks, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”

“Is it working?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”

He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”

But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.

“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”

“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”

“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”

His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse.

“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”

“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”

You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”

His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.

“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.

He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”

He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.

“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”

He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”

You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.

“Convince me more.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt.

“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”

You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”

You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you.

"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"

Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.

"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"

More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.

His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.

"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?"

“It’s making my clothes disappear.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”

“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”

“I do love a good magic trick.”

You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.

“You’re… you’re pretty too.”

His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."

You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.

His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.

You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.

With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.

“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.”

Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.

His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own.

You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.

“Yes, baby?”

Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.

You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”

Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.

He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours.

Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”

You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.

“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”

You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.

The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.

“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."

Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.

"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."

Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”

“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.

"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.

"It intensifies, doesn't it?"

Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”

“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.

You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes.

You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.

“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”

You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.

“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”

You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot.

The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.

"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”

You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.

A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.

The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.

Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.

You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?"

"Definitely too much.”

"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.

He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”

"Getting there.”

You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”

You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.

"Almost. Still too much."

Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.

"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.

His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”

“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"

“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "Don’t worry, all the attention is on you."

“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”

“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”

“Cockiness does not suit you.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”

You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”

“Perfect.”

His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust.

You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.

"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.

You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.

Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.

“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”

Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.

“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”

Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.

“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”

Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”

The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.

You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge.

"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.

"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”

You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside… me.”

Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”

“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”

That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.

His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.

Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.

Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.

You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.

“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."

He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–you—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”

You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.

“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.

He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”

You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?

Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.

Maybe you should get one for your room.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

2K notes · View notes

inkdrinkerworld · 2 months

Note

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

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

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

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

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

He’s never seen you like this.

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

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

He strains his ear and hears you whisper,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2K notes · View notes

misserabella · 11 days

Text

in need

spencer reid! x fem! reader

synopsis; spencer wakes up from a wet dream and needs you to fix the problem in between his legs.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, wet dreams, needy spencer, subbish spencer but not really?, kissing, tit and nipple play, begging, whiny spencer, rubbing through clothes, hickeys, piv sex, unprotected sex (guys don’t do that, use protection!), creampie…

for the entire night, your sleep had been peaceful, spencer’s limp body warm against yours and his even breathing hot on your skin. every now and then, though, you’d feel his chest rumble, quiet groans spilling from his soft plushy lips, his arms circling your body clinging you tighter against him as he mumbles into your skin.

it’s by the third time that you’ve woken up, concerned, maybe he was having one of his nightmares. those horrid nightmares that encapsulated him and didn’t let him wake up until their ending.

“spence?” you called out softly for him, the hand that cupped his back drawing comforting circles against his skin.

spencer still clings onto you tightly, though he is slightly shifting against you now, his breath coming out in huffs now, a low groan coming from him as he mumbles softly in between dreams. with the darkness of the room and his face buried into your skin, there's almost no way he'd be able to see you or notice you, but he's also not quite awake yet. he just moans quietly again, a whimper slipping from between his lips, and you try again.

“spence...” you slowly nudged him to wake him up and in response he stirs a bit, his breath picking up as he lets out another quiet moan against your skin, clinging tighter to you, pressing his face closer. pressing tighter to you, burying his face closer. his breath comes faster, and he mumbles something against your skin that is too muffled for you to understand.

“what's wrong? are you alright? is it one of your nightmares?”

spencer grunts softly against your skin, his breath coming in huffs as he presses harder against you, another breathy groan coming from him as he shakes his head slowly against you. he turns his head, his lips flush against your shoulder as he mumbles against your skin.

"no…" you frown.

“what's wrong then, baby?”

spencer moans again at the sound of your voice, his breath hitching for a moment as his eyes tighten shut, and that’s when you feel it, his hard cock straining against his briefs right against your thigh.

"i’m sorry…" he mumbles, another needy groan escaping him as his face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, your scent making his dick twitch. you understood what had happened; a wet dream. spencer was having a wet dream. his hips rock against your leg, a soft and needy whisper filling your ears. “please…”

you pushed one of your thighs in between his for him to have something to pleasure himself with as you smirked. “you needy, baby?”

spencer presses his hips against your thigh, a small thrust forward as he moans against your skin again, his body pressing harder with the next and he whimpers.

"mhm..." he hums, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“had a good dream?” you inquired, pressing wet longing kisses on the skin of his neck, to what he shivers.

spencer groans, tilting his head to give you better access as you suck on his sensitive skin, a breathy whine escaping him. "was dreaming about you..."

“what did you dream about, huh?”

"t-touching you..." spencer whimpers, his breath hitching for a moment as he mumbles softly, the needy whine in his voice rising slightly. you smirk.

“yeah? touching me, baby?” you cooed, one of your hands coming down in between his legs to cup him, making his breath hitch.

"hmmm... everywhere..." he whispers, the whine in his voice growing louder as he nuzzles against you, breath hitching as he presses himself against your hand, humping himself against your touch.

“you're so hard...” you chuckled, rubbing him from over his underwear. “so needy…”

he moans, the feeling of your fingers caressing him drawing a low groan from him, his breath picking up and coming faster, a needy whine in his voice as he nuzzles against your neck.

“what do you need, hm?”

“you. i need you so bad…” another whimper slips from his lips, his teeth gently biting at your neck, making you sigh.

“yeah?” you hum and he nods, his attention leaving your neck when he notices you fumbling with your panties, pulling them down your thighs and getting rid of them, the sight drawing a low groan from him. “then come here.” he’s never been quicker, in a frenzy pushing himself up and in between your thighs. you’re already wet and expecting. it makes his mind reel.

“baby…” he mutters against your lips, and your fingers lace up in his hair. he’s the same gentleman as always.

“you can use me, spence.” your words make him moan, he’s so turned on right now he can barely think. and you saying things like that was definitely not working.

“fuck. you’re driving me crazy.” he whispers against your chest, her fingers making quick work of pulling open his shirt on you, getting rid of the buttons so his lips can latch to your nipples, making you sigh in a smile and tug at the pretty curls on his nape.

“you’re so cute…” you say and he hummed against your chest, sucking and lapping at your tits, marking you with his bruises.

spencer gasps as you grab his chin, lifting his head up to look into your eyes, his breath coming out in heavy needy pants, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, his body completely needy for you at this point, every part of him burning with heat.

his puppy pleading eyes are asking for you, and you palm him once again, making him grunt. “come on…” you muttered against his lips, your fingers crooking into his underwear to pull it down.

when he kisses you, it’s hungry and needy, all teeth and tongue. he hurriedly takes off his boxers, and when he thrusts against you, he curses. his cock is red and angry, hard and leaking as it slides in between your slick folds.

“fuck.” he moans, and you follow as his tip bumps against your clit.

“spencer…” you’re the one begging now. “please, let me make you feel better. let me make you feel good…” you plead as you take him in your hand, lining him up with your gaping hole, in need to be filled. he nods, whimpering. and then, he’s thrusting inside.

your back arches as your breath leaves your lungs. the stretch is welcomed, desired. and it feels so good.

“shit. you feel so good. oh god.” he pulls back and rams inside you again. you want to laugh by how much of a babbling mess he’s become once your walls had surrounded him, but it feels so good that you end up moaning instead, your nails scratching his back as he fucks you deep and needy, his pace speeding up.

you moan his name, and he moans yours as his hips snap against yours, the squelching of your juices around his dick filling the room as he buries his face on your neck.

“fuck. i’m-“ you nod. you know what he means. he’s close. he’d already been so worked up due to his dream, that now, finally having you, is pushing him towards the edge faster that he’d like. but he can’t stop. and you don’t want him to stop.

you nod, scratching down his back. “me too. don’t stop. please…” you beg, and his pace quickens, gets rougher, and you’re a whimpering mess, your thighs shaking as he moans about how close he is. “cum with me. cum inside, please.” you cry out, and just as you fall apart you feel him painting your insides with a whine, his hips sputtering as he fucks the two of you through it with ‘please’s falling from his plump and reddish lips.

as the two of you come down, he kisses your neck, your cheeks and lips.

“we’ll be doing that again…” you definitely say, and he laughs.

his laughter is a sound you couldn’t compare to even the most beautiful melody.

needy spencer save me. save me needy spencer 😖😫

1K notes · View notes