reads4reid

[reads4reid]

each time you fall in love

how your boyfriend turned into your husband and how the two of you started and grew a family

spencer reid x reader, parent au, dad!spencer x mom!reader, time jumps (parts w/ pregnant reader), 2.5k

Your thing with Spencer is really good, sometimes it just feels too good and too right. Everything feels like it’s fallen so effortlessly and perfectly in place. You definitely don’t want to jinx anything, but after eight months of officially dating- and two years of mutual pinning through work, Spencer has been absolutely everything you wanted and needed in a guy.

It’s easy to talk to him, to laugh; to tell him anything. Spencer wants to get to know you, to understand and help you. When you talk, he listens with his eyes never leaving yours and a soft smile always dancing on his lips. And during moments like these, when you're lying in bed, limbs tangled together, his large palm over your waist, and when you pet his bed head and he smiles sleepily- you never, ever want Spencer to leave.

Spencer watches you now with a dazed, blissed look of total comfort. One you love so much on him, one he deserves so much. He smells like your clean sheets and his usual wood and sea salt cologne as his warm fingers trace different patterns against your shoulder.

You both have been slowly convincing each other to get up eventually and tackle your Sunday plans of grocery shopping and putting together Spencer's new book shelf he ordered after he outgrew his other one. But it’s been over an hour of falling back asleep and slowly blinking awake and neither of you has made much progress yet.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” Spencer asks suddenly, making you twist in his arms to look at his sweet face and dazed eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, watching how intensely curious he looks. “Sometimes."

You subconsciously match his small smile, thoughts of an incredibly wholesome future together making your heart unfairly twist in excitement and want. “I think about it all the time with you,” you continue and Spencer grins instantly. You've seen how delicately and kindly Spencer interacts with children, how naturally warm and gentle he is. You wouldn't admit it, but even before you were dating, you had a few fleeting thoughts about Spencer as a father.

“Really?” He asks and you smile, hand running down his bicep, “Of course.”

Spencer is quiet for a while before he speaks again. "And, you think- you think I'd be a good dad, right?”

Your eyes soften as you roll over to kiss him. “Absolutely.” 

Spencer just looks at you like you said something entirely captivating and consuming.

“What?” You smile, pressing your lips against his jaw gently, "I'm just telling you the truth."

“I just want it so badly, I don’t know.” Spencer bends his arms to rest them behind his head. He watches you, totally suddenly peaceful and content. “I want so much with you.”

-

2 years later

You wake up to the muffled sound of Spencer's voice, momentarily wondering if he’s on the phone but you smile to yourself when you listen closely and hear his softer and higher tone- his baby voice. You excitedly make your way to your kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and appreciating the scene in front of you. Spencer is carefully holding your daughter, Nora, with both arms, walking around the kitchen, while simultaneously trying to make eggs.

He has messy bed hair- similar to yours, a now permanent fashion statement in the Reid household, and stubble dotted along his jaw. You listen to his soft whispers and your heart swells as your baby’s small fingers cling onto his white undershirt and her chubby hand grasps at his arm, softly patting over his chest.

Spencer has his back to you so you stay unnoticed, enjoying the serene beauty of your husband and daughter together. Nora is already almost eight months old and time felt like it was flying by- even if the sleepless nights felt incredibly long. Now, even if time alone and a longer than five-minute shower felt like a luxury, you couldn’t and don’t want to remember a time without Nora.

You absolutely love watching Spencer with her, you love watching the way he so gracefully and perfectly assumed the role of being a father, especially after the late night conversations you had when you were pregnant when Spencer tearfully admitted his fears of his ability to be a good father when he lacked one as a child. But between Spencer's reading of basically every pregnancy book on the market and the way Nora kicked immediately at the sound of Spencer's voice, it was quickly obvious he had nothing to worry about.

You love how attentive he is and how much he dotes on her and takes care of you at the same time. How he diligently learned how to cook- and make fresh, healthy baby food, how he reads a ridiculous amount of baby books to Nora daily, and how he insisted on making sure you get at least minimum of a few hours of sleep a night.

You watch him bounce Nora gently, leaning against the doorframe and you smile silently until your daughter spots you from behind his shoulder. She reaches out and giggles with a tiny grin and Spencer turns around, mirroring her smile, which looks enduringly similar to his own.

“Need help?” You ask as Spencer laughs. “There’s probably a more effective way to make breakfast but I didn't want to put her down.”

Nora stretches her arms out towards you and you reach over to gently grab her from his hold. "Coffee?” He asks, knowing your answer.

“Yes please,” you smile down at Nora, her soft hairs and long lashes. She leans her head against your chest, already comfortable in your arms. You watch Spencer stand on his tiptoes to grab a coffee mug and you press a kiss to the crown of Nora's head.

What a nice morning.

-

“Come take a picture!” Spencer says and your daughter giggles and toddles over to you, hurrying as fast as her tiny legs can carry her, bound in a large winter coat, mittens, and ear muffs. A tiny chubby arm extends out to you- a wordless ask for stability and help. You smile as she struggles to wrap her small arms around your shoulders, tiny hands grasping your jacket. Her full pink cheek smushes against yours as Spencer positions the picture, grinning behind the camera, “Your first snow this year, baby!”

Spencer had retired from the BAU and started teaching full time only a year and half after Nora was born, determined to be there for his daughter and that meant so many more family moments like these. Mornings like these when you wake up beside your husband and you're both there to see one of Nora's firsts.

“Snow!” She says loudly, head straining up towards the sky with fascination. She had just started talking and loved impressing everyone with her linguistic skills, taking her limited vocabulary very seriously as she already loved to talk and communicate with the two of you. Spencer loved entertaining her- and himself, by sitting her in his lap and reading her favorite books, the ones she had memorized, together.

“Smile!” He says excitedly, grinning behind the large camera.

Nora listens, with grin that has always looked exactly like her father’s. Your arm finds its way to the small of her back, holding her securely as Spencer takes the picture. 

“Perfect,” he mutters, more to himself, watching his family in front of him.

-

“What’s the surprise?” Nora cries, toying with the hem of her shirt. Her anxious gaze darts back and forth between you and Spencer, upset that you both know something she doesn’t.

At three years old, Nora hates feeling like she’s being excluded from something. The hardest part of her routine is now attempting to convince her that it's bedtime and neither of you would dare have fun without her while she's sleeping.

Spencer hands her a small transparent piece of film and your daughter plays with it gently, turning it around in her palm. “What does this mean?” She questions, not able to stay still and scooting towards you with wide, curious eyes. 

Spencer holds her close to his body, wrapping an arm around her as she gives him her full attention. “It means in a couple of months you’re going to be an older sister.” Nora blinks with her mouth open, she has friends in preschool who were younger siblings or already had younger brothers or sisters. Spencer's cousin recently had twins and Nora was completely fascinated by how tiny they were and that there were two babies.

You knew Spencer always wanted Nora to have at least one other sibling and the timing had finally felt right for the first time since she was born a few years ago.

“Really?” Her voice grows louder in pure excitement, looking at you in awe before her eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not right now?” She pouts, immediately turning to her father for an explanation.

Spencer laughs loudly with an endeared smile that is always reserved solely for Nora. “That’s not how it works, angel." He pulls her into his lap, noting that patience is still hard a hard virtue for a three-year-old.

-

You’re tucking Nora into bed a few nights later when she brings up the baby again.

“There’s a baby in there?” Nora asks, pointing to your stomach where a small but noticeable bump began to show. After Spencer's scientific but three- year old friendly explanation, Nora has been fascinated with her younger sibling, always asking you and Spencer about babies. It had even made Spencer briefly tear up one night, hit with the realization Nora wasn't a baby anymore. Even though you quickly reminded him she still was only three.

“Yes, sweetheart,” you laugh as she smiles widely. “Wow,” her big eyes fill with excitement and curiosity. She reaches out and lays a small, warm hand on your stomach, “Hi baby.”

You smile at your daughter, already knowing what a great sister she'll be. She grips the comforter tightly as she moves to your side to cuddle you closer. “Love you,” she mumbles, eyes tightly shut, trying to lull herself into sleep. 

“I love you too,” you say quietly and you eventually think she’s successfully asleep, tucked tightly next to you until she whispers cutely, “I love you baby.” You feel a small tap on your stomach and she snuggles closer, satisfied and closes her eyes for a peaceful sleep. 

-

“Look!” Your daughter calls as she thrusts a picture towards Spencer, a pink and purple fingerprinted flower. He takes her in his arms, “For me?” Spencer grins, looking at her art. Spencer loves her artwork and his office at the university is filled with her masterpieces.

Nora's arms find his shoulders. “No,” she giggles, “for Mommy!” She finishes, still laughing at Spencer's reaction.                      

Spencer pretends to look hurt, pouting, “Well, can I have one too?” he asks. Nora thinks about it for a few moments, face twisting in thought, “Okay!” The little girl decides and Spencer's smile grows instantly, “Thank you, baby.”

She frowns, chiding her father with a grin, “I’m not baby.” 

“You’re not?” Spencer asks surprised and she nods approvingly. “Yes, the baby is in mommy right now,” she explains, looking at him to confirm he understands.

“Ahhh,” Spencer nods knowingly, smiling tugging on his lips, “I see. You’re right. You're so smart, my big girl.” Nora hides her smile, leaning against Spencer's shoulder and tucking her face into his chest.

“You’re still my baby though, right?“ He whisper as Nora buries her face further into his shirt, giggling out a sweet, “Yes."

-

Nemo has been the chosen movie for your weekly movie night- for the fourth time in a row, because Spencer can never find it in him to say no to Nora and she is somehow still incredibly invested in Nemo's storyline. But now, as the end credits of Nemo play, Nora sits in Spencer's lap, letting him braid her hair. You’re laying next to them, a blanket draped over you as Spencer watches you sleep peacefully, getting your well deserved and needed rest.

Nora sighs against Spencer's chest as he pats her shoulder. "Let’s go to bed, angel.”

She lets her father hoist her up and carry her into her room, the one right down the hall from yours, with pink walls and a newly upgraded twin bed.

“Daddy,” she whispers suddenly, clutching her favorite teddy bear like she's nervous. “Will you still love me even if I’m not a baby anymore?”

Spencer blinks and brushes back stray hairs from her face with a soft smile, trying to ignore the way his heart breaks inside his chest. “Of course honey, I could never not love you, never ever.”

“Ok, daddy,” Nora smiles to herself, seemingly satisfied.

“Will you still love me?” Spencer asks and she giggles loudly.

“Yes!”

“I had to make sure!” He defends and Nora squeals, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing tight.

“Nora," Spencer finishes seriously, "Mommy and I will love you forever.”

-

“The baby is going to be small,” Spencer explains, walking Nora through the hospital halls as she swings their interlocked hands back and forth excitedly.

“Okay,” Nora bounces. “Isn’t it cool, daddy, that baby and I have the same birthday month?”

“Wow,” he looks down at Nora and her bright, excited eyes, “it really is.”

“But we have our own days,” she continues, “I think it was meant to be.” She decides, stopping when Spencer does, right in front of your hospital room.

“I think so too,” he smiles, squeezing her hand gently and opening the door carefully.

“Wow,” Nora gasps, consciously trying not to run up to the hospital bed where you hold a tiny bundle.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you smile, “Do you want to meet your sister?”

She nods with wide eyes, already on her tippy toes to try and peer over the tall bed. Spencer instead sits down in the chair next to you and lifts her into his lap. “Here,” he murmurs as you carefully pass over your newborn.

“Hi,” Nora stares at the small bundle, “Daddy,” she gasps, looking up at Spencer in awe. She touches the baby tentatively as her father's arm wraps around her waist. Nora is already hyper-fixated on her sibling, on her sister.

“What’s baby’s name?” She whispers like she’s scared of disturbing her.

“Amelia,” Spencer says quietly, meeting your eyes with a small, content smile.

“Hi Amelia,” Nora smiles, helping Spencer support the baby's head gently, turning to look at you. “Do you think she already knows how much I love her?”

You nod, “I know she does.” Nora nods with a satisfied smile, like that reassures her and you watch her hold her sister, sharing a silent but knowing look with Spencer; knowing now that your family feels so, so complete.

[reads4reid]

hiiii! i was wondering if maybe you could do spencer reid meeting readers dad and he's scared asf bc the dad is huge, scary-looking, and super intimidating but then the dad ends up being a total nerd just like reid? thank you, have a good day!

my dad is a nerd this spoke to me <3

--

It doesn't matter how much time Spencer spends around Morgan; he's still uneasy around people whose arms are thicker than his head. Meeting your dad goes just about as well as you'd thought it would, with a stutter and a stammer here and there from Spencer, and some very red cheeks.

"It's lovely to meet- meet you, sir." Spencer manages to clear his throat enough to say the words, and the stoic nod your dad sends back doesn't calm his nerves.

"Spencer," Your dad recites his name from the stories you'd told him, firmly shaking his hand that you're relieved Spencer offered, "Y/N speaks very highly of you."

"I do," You gush, rushing forwards to loop your arm around Spencer's and lead him into the house before his knees buckle from anxiety, "Come on, Spence, my mom's in the backyard waiting for us."

Spencer's keen eyes pick up on the little grey tablet displayed on the edge of your dad's desk as you pass his home office, and when you pass through the kitchen, he ducks his head to whisper against your ear.

"Is that a PADD? Like- from Star Trek?"

"Oh!" You brighten, having forgotten the love both your dad and your boyfriend share for the franchise, "Yeah! Dad," You call, where he's locking the door behind you, "Spencer likes your Trekkie stuff."

It successfully breaks through your father's rather intimidating exterior, and his unapproachable expression brightens into a kind smile.

"Son, I didn't know you liked Star Trek," The man beams, and you feel the way Spencer's tense muscles loosen at your dad's jovial tone, "That should have been the first thing Y/N told me about you."

"Pardon me," You groan teasingly, "I wanted you to know his name first."

"Not important," Your dad cracks, stopping by the door to his office and beckoning Spencer forwards, "Y/N, go get your mom and tell her Spencer's here. I don't often get the chance to show off my memorabilia, I'm not gonna waste it now."

"Oh, dad," You groan, but Spencer's all-too-enticed by the promise of a replica of Commander La Forge's VISOR, and follows the man without a second thought.

"Mom," You call, stepping through the back door and finding her kneeling beside a bed of tulips, "Spencer's here, but I don't think you'll see him for the next ten years."

Her brows furrow, and you supply, "He's in dad's office. He asked about the PADD."

"Oh, that man," She groans, rising to her feet and brushing dirt off of her gardening gloves, "Honey, go in there, save him!"

"It's okay," You laugh, smearing away a speck of dirt that's stuck to her arm, "He likes it, mom. He's a big fan."

"You be careful," She instructs, brow furrowed as she takes your hand, "If those two start watching the shows together, your dad is going to see him more than you do."

"I won't lose him!" You promise with a giggle, leading her inside, "But we should stop Dad before he tries showing Spencer his Starfleet uniforms; I want to have lunch before it gets dark."

[reads4reid]

hii i saw this:

and i was wondering if you could write a little something about spencer and reader. maybe reader has been told all her (or their, if you want to keep it gn) life that she's too difficult to love (too complicated) and spencer just loving her sm

thank you for your time🩷

It's always quiet at Spencer's apartment. Much quieter than yours which is the result of you wanting to live in a trendy area and him being the youngest person in his apartment building by a decade. The curtain is still open so the soft glow of the city lights can filter through the windows. He's laying with his head on your lap while you play with his hair, twirling the soft chocolate curls around your fingers.

He glances down at you when you stop your sentence midway. "You seem a little lost in thought. Everything okay?"

You glance down at him, faking a smile. "Yeah, just thinking about stuff, you know?"

He nods. "You can always talk to me, you know. Even just about stuff."

"Spencer, have you ever felt like you're just... too much? Like you're too complicated, and it's hard for anyone to really love you?" You try to explain the complicated feelings filling up your brain to him.

He frowns in concern. "Y/n, where is this coming from? Do you think I'm too much for you?"

You quickly shake your head, realizing how your comment came across. "No, I, uh, meant about me. It's just something that's been on my mind lately. I tend to overthink things, and I worry that my quirks and complexities might be too overwhelming for you to handle. I'm not really, you know, loveable."

Spencer sits up immediately, concern filling his features. "Y/n, you can't seriously think that. In no way are you too complicated. You're intricate, fascinating, and endlessly intriguing. I love learning, and I've learned a lot about a lot of things but my favorite thing to learn about is you."

You feel yourself tear up at his words. "Spence..."

He reaches out for your hands, holding them in his as he continues. "And as for being unlovable, that's simply not true. Loving you is..." He's speechless for a moment. "It's like plants photosynthesizing but you're the sunshine and water and I'm the plant." You're crying at his simile and the sincerity with which he says it. "Sorry, that was weird. I just meant it's natural."

"No, no. It was beautiful." He wipes up your tears too and you feel clean. "Thank you."

He cups your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering. "You deserve to be loved, Y/n, just as you are."

"You love me like that." You say softly. It hits you that he loves you for everything, and you hadn't realized your brain had convinced you that he didn't fully love you.

"I do." He confirms. "It's impossible not to."

[reads4reid]

I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻

thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader

"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway. 

You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer. 

That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him. 

"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks. 

"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.

Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?" 

You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?" 

"I finished it. Doesn't take long." 

"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?" 

It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?

"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance." 

Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes." 

"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face." 

"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?" 

You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).

"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself." 

Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard. 

"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks. 

"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth. 

"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it." 

Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently. 

"I'd love to," Spencer says. 

"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe. 

"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping. 

"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch." 

You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that." 

Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think." 

"Sure."

[reads4reid]

reader x spencer + best friends to lovers + angry love confession — hear me out. literally everyone on the team can tell they’re in love & they even realized before they did. maybe one of them has started going on casual dates (and they hate every minute of it bc it’s not the spencer or the reader) bc of this, either spencer or reader start distancing them self from the other because it’s just hurting them to watch that. when they kiss one says “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this” !!

okay it ended up being a tad different, but i still like the way it turned out!!! definitely still idiots in love lolll

pairing: spencer reid x reader

—————

“What about you, mama? You got any weekend plans?” Derek asked you, raising a brow.

You smirked. “Yeah. I got some plans.”

His eyes widened in question, waiting for some elaboration. Spencer looked up from his desk, secretly curious to find out what you’d be doing.

Emily grew impatient. “Well? Are you just going to leave us hanging?”

“I’ve got a date,” you said quickly, smiling to yourself as the team reacted.

“Ooh, who’s the lucky guy?” JJ asked, leaning in closer.

“Y’all don’t know him, I can almost guarantee that. My friend Hannah set it up.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, burying himself back in his paperwork. Derek noticed, not letting that reaction slide by without some jeering.

“What? You jealous, pretty boy?”

Everyone’s attention was drawn to Spencer as he glared at Derek. You particularly had interest in the reaction he had. He’d been extra prickly lately, and while part of you hoped he was jealous because you wanted him to care, you also kind of liked the idea of him being annoyed by your actions at least once this week.

“Why would I be?”

“Maybe cause I can actually get a date, for one,” you chimed in, receiving a light smack on the arm from JJ.

You merely shrugged it off.

“I choose not to date anyone who comes along.”

You scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, about to say something more when Derek broke it up, reprimanding you both for acting like ‘a couple of middle schoolers.’

“You started it,” you noted, leveling your gaze at Derek. “I was perfectly content ignoring his little huffy attitude.”

“I’m not being huffy,” Spencer said, staring you down.

“You have been all week.”

“No, I haven’t.”

You quirked a brow, giving him the ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look. He sighed, silently going back to his work. Everyone else decided that was about the time they should return to their own business, knowing better than to get in the middle of you two when you were mad at one another.

Near the end of the day, you decided to go and talk to Spencer about whatever was happening that was causing him to act the way he was. You started walking to his desk, though he abruptly stood and gathered his things.

“Spence,” you called as he tried to leave his desk. “Spencer.”

He ignored you. He really should’ve known you better than to do that. You followed after him, trapping him at last in the elevator.

“What is your issue?” you asked, your tone harsher than you intended.

He sighed hard. “I need to go home. I don’t have an issue.”

You stood in front of him, forcing eye contact that he was desperately trying to avoid.

“You ran away from me.”

“No—”

“Yes. You did, and everyone saw it happen so don’t even try acting like you didn’t.”

“Everyone knows your business already, what’s one more thing?”

You furrowed your brow. “Excuse me?”

The elevator dinged, and he started walking away from you. You pursued him quickly.

“Are you talking about earlier? You really think I was out of bounds to tell our friends I had a date?”

He stayed quiet, his jaw ticking as he pushed out of the doors. He was relentlessly trying to get away, but your willpower could certainly be stronger. You followed him into the parking lot, grabbing him by the arm when he tried getting further.

“Spencer,” you called out, clearly annoyed. “This is ridiculous. You’re going to talk to me about this now or we’re never talking again.”

He turned, staring at you for a few moments. He shook his head, anger on his features that looked deeply out of place.

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting like a toddler—”

“No,” he stopped you. “Why are you— You’re constantly going out. Why? You never did that before. Why now?”

You were taken aback, mentally and physically. You tried formulating an answer, though nothing quite provided a good cover-up for ‘I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I can’t stop thinking about you and I need to get over it’.

“Why do you care?” is what you settled for.

“I don’t know,” he exclaimed. “I just hate it.”

“Then why don’t you go find someone to date?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he said, matching the venom in your voice.

“Why not?”

“They’re not you!”

“Okay? Every person I’ve dated lately hasn’t been you and I’ve gotten over it,” you spit out, not quite realizing yet what either of you had said.

He geared up to yell back at you when his face morphed from anger to sudden confusion.

“Wait, what?”

You still weren’t quite sure why he looked so confused.

“If I can date someone and get over the fact it isn’t you, I’m sure you could manage the same,” you said quickly.

Oh.

“Wait,” you stopped. “What?”

“What do you mean they’re not me?” he asked, still questioning a little aggressively.

“What do you mean?”

His brain connected those remaining puzzle pieces pretty quickly from that point. His face dropped in shock, hands moving before his head could tell him ‘no’. He grabbed your arms to pull you in, hands holding to your face the second you were close enough, slamming his lips to yours. Your own shock faded quickly enough to kiss him back, your own hands grasping at his wrists.

You broke apart after several seconds, looking at him wide-eyed.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, words practically tumbling from his mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, still feeling in the mood to argue.

“You didn’t either,” he shot back. “You started dating people.”

“Yeah, dumbass, I had to get over you at some point.”

He rolled his eyes, then settled them back on your face. He took you in, a light smile on his face betraying him.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You nodded. “Same here.”

Derek and Emily strolled out of the building, immediately spotting their two favorite idiots making out next to the government building in which they worked. Emily smiled, then looked at a shocked-but-excited-looking Derek.

She patted him on the shoulder. “You owe me twenty bucks.”

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[reads4reid]

Mommy's Boyfriend.

While dropping off your son at school, the last thing you expect is your ex-boyfriend Mr.Reid to be his teacher.

Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, Mother reader, Your child is unnamed don't think too much about it, make-up sex, cunnilingus, begging, gentle-ish sex, doggy style, light choking, cream pie, he loves you too much. 

WC: 7.1K 

It was the first day of school, and you were dropping your son off, walking through the hallway and holding the little boy's hand. As you passed through various rooms, you smiled at passing teachers and students. When you finally make it to your son's classroom, you kneel down and kiss his forehead before saying a few encouraging words to him, patting his back before urging him into the room.

"I'll see you in a few hours, love.."

You say to him as he walks away from you. When you stand up, you're not at all expecting Spencer to be standing there behind you. The two of you had broken up just before summer started, and although you knew he was a teacher, you were really hoping you didn't see him today.

What are the chances he’s your son's teacher? Apparently very high ones.

You give him a forced polite smile before trying to walk away from him as quickly as you could.

As Spencer watches you go, he’s hit with a wave of shame, guilt, and disgust. He should never have let things end the way he had. He should’ve tried to fix things but, instead, he had just given up. It was something he would never forgive himself for. He decides that he’s not going to let you go without at least knowing that he regrets his actions. He walks after you.

"Hey."

You hear him, and the clicking of your heels against the floor speeds up as you try to get away from him as fast as possible.

"Wait.." He says in a calm, firm, serious voice with a hint of a pleading tone. He picks up his pace and is quickly closing the distance between you two. When he moves closer to you, he reaches a hand out to plant on your shoulder, trying to stop you. 

When you shrug off his hand, he purses his lips and quickly runs in front of you, so you're forced to stop. You blink at the quick movement and look up at him with eyes full of undercover malice. Pushing your tongue into your cheek in annoyance, you quietly snap at him, so as to not attract a crowd.

"Can I help you?"

Spencer looks at you with eyes that are full of regret, sadness, shame, and longing. He takes a small step closer to you. You can see that he’s upset, but most of the emotions he is feeling are negative ones directed at himself. He looks like he wants to hug you and cry at the same time, but he is restraining himself, far too scared to make you even angrier at him. Even in all of his sadness and regret there is still a little bit of love in his eyes, and it looks like he’s about to cry.

You bite your lips as the look in his eyes still never ceases to make you melt. With a small shake of your head, you speak.

"Listen, it's been great seeing you, but I just came to drop off my kid, alright?" You push past him and start walking towards the front doors, not wanting to be around him any longer than you already have.

Spencer reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can make it to the door. He looks at you with pleading eyes, still full of the same negative self-loathing emotions, but there’s a glint of hope and love in them.

"Wait–please." He says, his tone now urgent. "I just need two minutes of your time; to explain."

You take a deep breath and look down at your watch before you look back at him. "Don't you have a job to do?"

Spencer takes a deep breath and his eyes narrow before his expression softens again. "Yes, I do," he says.

"But, I'll go to work every day for the rest of my life. Please, just two minutes of your time." He looks desperate and pleading but, if you refuse again, he seems like he’ll let you go.

It hurts you to admit it, but his words make your heart swell. If there was one thing he was always good at doing, it was putting you first. But ironically, that's what got the two of you here in the first place. With wavering eyes, you look around before sighing, and agreeing.

"Two minutes." 

A huge wave of relief washes over Spencer and he can't help but smile a little bit. He walks you to a quiet place to talk. Once you are out of earshot of everyone around he looks at you with regretful eyes, and his voice begins to crack a bit.

"I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and I am so sorry for the way I treated you. I was too caught up in my work and didn't give our relationship the attention it needed and I regret it every day. Please, forgive me."

You shake your head and look down at anywhere but him, because you know the second your gaze locks with those puppy-dog eyes you've always adored, all of your progress of "getting over him" in the past few months would go to waste in a heartbeat.

"I-I don't know, Spence.."

You hadn't even noticed the way you referred to him as his nickname you always used to call him, too caught up in your emotions to acknowledge it now.

"Please," His voice sounds desperate, like he might break down any moment now.

"I would do anything to fix what I have done. Please, just give me one more chance. I will never take you or our relationship for granted again. I love you."

As those last few words escape his lips his voice breaks and he looks like he might just get down on both knees and beg you. He looks completely ready and willing to show you, not just tell you, how sorry he is and that he can and will make things right.

Raising your chin a little to look at him through teary lashes, you run your thumb along your waterline. With a heavy sigh, you finally find the courage to look him in the eyes.

"You have a class to teach, Spencer. I'm sorry."

"I'll call in sick. I'd walk away from my job in an instant if it meant I got you back."

His voice is desperate as it breaks again and tears well up in his eyes.

"Please, love. Just give me a chance."

He looks heartbroken, and this is probably the most emotional, intense, and passionate he has ever been about his love for you and it's hard for you to resist. You’re sure you'll be making a mistake by saying no, but at the same time, you feel you’ll be making an even bigger mistake by saying yes.

You almost laugh at his words, but you stop yourself before you do. If you laughed in his face right now, you know he'd absolutely be crushed. With a sad smile, you sniff. 

"Don't do that, Spencer."

With one last look at your watch, you barely think about the next words that leave your mouth. You were just saying whatever he wanted to hear, you couldn't help it. Even after everything, you just wanted to please him.

"Listen, I- School ends at three, right? When I come to pick him up, we can talk more, okay?" 

Spencer is absolutely thrilled by how things just went. He fully expected you to just walk out on him, and he wouldn’t even blame you. He tries to hide the happiness on his face but he's unable to prevent himself from letting a small smile creep onto his lips. He nods his head in agreement.

"Three o'clock," He says in a calming, but still emotional, voice. "I'll be right here." He looks over you for a second before he turns and walks away, still clearly full of hope and optimism.

And you're left in the room by yourself and your thoughts as he walks out. You know this is a mistake, and you should've just ignored him and went on with your life, but it was too late now. In a battle with your heart and your head, you think you're going to let your heart win.

As the day passes, you're running errands and doing some work of your own, but your mind is somewhere else. 

It's only two thirty, you've got another half hour until you see him again, and you feel your nerves race through your body. As you sit in your car in silence, the sound of your heart pounding in your chest rings in your ears, and it taunts you.

You can't help but feel excited as you think about finally getting the chance to talk to him and try to work things out despite knowing full well that this is a bad idea. Part of you still wants to run, but the idea of having him in your life again feels like a dream come true and it’s hard to resist that kind of temptation when it is just within your grasp.

At three o'clock Spencer is waiting at the school, just as he promised, hoping you won't change your mind.

Taking a deep breath and shaking out your hands, you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the entrance of the school. All of the other children and parents were walking back to their own cars, and you remember then that your son had after-school sports, and he wouldn't be going home with you now.

At least it gave you and Spencer more time to speak. As you walk closer to him, the pounding of your pulse fills all of your senses, and you force a polite smile on your face.

As you approach him he smiles and hugs you. His arms are warm and comforting, and just having him hold you again makes you feel better. You can tell he is nervous too, you can see it in the way his eyes are darting around and how he keeps fidgeting his hands. You can also tell that he’s trying to keep his composure and has the same polite smile you do. He's trying to act like things are normal and like he isn't just dying of impatience for when you two can go somewhere to have a serious conversation.

With a small push to his chest, you break the hug with an awkward chuckle. His touch felt so nice, so comforting, but it was too much for you right now. You clear your throat as you stand in front of him with your arms behind your back and stutter as you speak.

When you push him away you can see a little bit of hurt in his eyes before it’s quickly replaced with understanding and patience. 

"I-I forgot that.. I forgot my son has soccer practice now.. So I don't have to pick him up for a few hours.." Your voice is wavering and sheepish, and you sound so unsure of yourself. The woman you were this morning, strong and unwilling to speak to the man in front of you was traded for a whole new persona, one that couldn't help but fumble under the gaze of Spencer.

"I see." He says in a calm, comforting tone, "Then, what would you like to do? Where would you like to talk?" As he speaks you can see him relax a little bit, but he is still filled with nervous energy, but it's clear that he’s trying to help you calm down.

And before you can stop yourself.

"We could go back to my place.."

When you say those words a huge smile makes its way across Spencer's face. He nods in agreement and takes your hand in his. You let him hold it.

"Your place, it is." As he speaks he leads you to his car and opens the passenger side door for you before getting into the driver's side himself. He turns to look at you to make sure you've gotten in safely and smiles again before turning forward to drive from the school to your house. As he drives, your thoughts race. You start thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, and they outweigh everything that could go right. 

It almost hurts your heart that he still remembers where you live, without a GPS or directions. It's like he never really forgot, how could he? It's all muscle memory to him.

As Spencer drives, a wave of nostalgia hits him hard. He can't help but remember all the sweet moments you have had at your place. He remembers the long nights, and the quiet mornings. He remembers the way you used to make him feel.

Then it hits him, these are the same feelings that made him make the huge, dumb mistake that got him in this situation in the first place. If he doesn't want to lose you again he’s going to have to do everything in his power to fix his mistakes and do everything he needs to do in order to make you happy.

Pulling into your driveway, you swallow before unbuckling yourself and stepping out of the car. You don't wait on him as you're walking up the pavement to your front door, pushing it open and walking inside.

Spencer gets out of the car and follows you inside, closing the door gently behind him. He walks over to you and looks at you with intense love and affection in his eyes. Before you can speak, he gives you a long, passionate kiss. For those few seconds he is able to forget everything and all he can think about is just how much he's missed you and how much he loves you. When he finally pulls away, you can see how hard he had to try to pull himself away in the first place, he missed the taste of your lips on his. 

"I love you.."

You gasp against his lips when he breaks the kiss, and the way your eyes widen almost rivals the moon. The nerve of him, you thought. But when his hands reach up to cradle your jaw, you can feel the anger fizzling into pathetic dust and you pull him in for another bruising kiss.

Spencer kisses you back passionately and his arms wrap all the way around your waist in the embrace. A wave of calm crashes over him as he holds you close to him because nothing feels better in the moment than being close to you again.

After a few minutes of kissing you he pulls back just a little bit to look at you and breathlessly speak.

"I missed you," he says, a little breathless, "So much."

Your eyes are full of passion and vexation towards him and you all but growl out your words. 

"Shut up and kiss me." Grabbing the collar of his dress shirt, you deal another violent kiss to him.

"Yes, ma'am."

Is all he can say as he moves in again. He had to pry your mouth away from him for air, and he leans in to kiss you again, but this time, instead of going straight for your mouth he makes his way to your neck. He’s leaning over slightly as kisses your neck, your ears, and your jaw in a playful move that has more passion behind it than playfulness, but you can still tell he is trying to tease you. 

Growing impatient and letting months of pent up emotions control you, you grab his hand on your head and forcefully move it down to your ass, putting your hand overtop of his as you make him squeeze your rear.

Spencer lets out a gentle groan at the feeling of you gripped in his hand, and grabs the handful roughly, digging his fingers into the denim of your jeans. 

"Now, can we talk?" His voice is gravelly and breathless. 

You’re pushing his body back until the backs of his knees hit the couch, and he sits down on it. You sit down next to him and begin to kiss up his neck, one of your hands moving to hold his jaw steady.

"Go ahead.." You murmur against his neck as you press a wet and sloppy kiss against the goosebump raised skin. 

Spencer lets out a small chuckle at how much you seem to be enjoying this. He's loving every second of it and he just smiles as his eyes start to go a little bit cross-eyed as he leans back into you.

"Stop that. I don't think I can hold a coherent thought like this."

His voice is half serious and half playful, still filled with the same passion and lust for you it has been the whole time.

"You're a genius, figure it out." Your voice is low and teasing as you bare your teeth against the flesh and nibble at it, leaving small, red marks.

Spencer groans a little bit as a shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your teeth against his skin. His eyes go a little bit more cross-eyed the longer you do it to him.

"Please," His voice is a little bit breathless and it's unclear if he is asking you to stop or if he's just asking you to take a little break from it so he can finish his sentence. "I'm begging."

Despite his words, you continue to suck at his neck, determined to mark him as yours once more. He was right, you two needed to talk about it, but you were a little preoccupied at the moment. Smiling against his skin, you lick over a fresh hickey.

“Haven't changed much then, Spence.."

Spencer lets out a small noise that is part moan, part whine, and part laugh. His eyes are just about completely rolled back into his skull at this point.

"I can't talk at all while you're doing this," His voice is strained but it's clear he is trying desperately to keep a playful tone to it. "You're not going to make this easy are you?" You can hear him take a deep breath as he is just barely able to calm himself down enough to give you a warning. 

"Nothing about this is easy, love.." The pet name just slips from your mouth, as if it were a habit. You don't dwell on it for too long as you lift yourself onto his lap and continue to kiss and mark his neck.

Spencer moves slightly to make it easier for you to sit on his lap and he lets out a soft sigh when he feels your weight against him and once again he can't help but smile.

"Baby," He says, his voice getting just a little bit more sincere now as he gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, "Please..." he asks one last time with pleading in his eyes.

"I have a lot to talk to you about. I'm not sure how you feel about everything but I promise it will be okay if you let me explain."

With a final press of your lips against him, you pull back and rest your hands on his shoulders. 

"Speak then."

The man takes a deep breath and speaks with the most sincerity you have ever heard in his voice.

"I am truly, truly, sorry for what I did to you," His voice cracks at the end of the word ‘you’ as he gets emotional again. He takes a few more deep breaths to compose himself before tearily speaking again. You can see how much he means the things he is saying and how much it hurts him having to tell you this.

“You didn’t and don’t deserve anything I did to you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry."

You had hoped the cloud of lust that sat between the two of you was enough to distract and mask the real reason why he was here, and you sigh. The arousal in your body fades and is quickly replaced with solemnness.

"I didn't deserve it, and I so badly want to hate you, Spencer." He reaches a hand out to run through your hair as you talk, and you lean into his comforting touch. "I spent months wanting to scream at you, yell at you for how you treated me. I wasn't even going to talk to you today, really.."

At your words Spencer's eyes fill with regret. He can only imagine how hard and awful the past few months must have been for you and to know he is the one who put you through it all makes him feel like he's a monster.

"I can't blame you, I know I'm a terrible person.. I really do." Spencer's voice cracks and tears start to form in his eyes too, he looks at you with a sad, pitiful look in his eyes. "You didn't deserve any of it, baby. I don't know what I was thinking.."

You tilt your head to the side at his words and pout at the way he's putting himself down. With a slightly trembling hand, you reach to wipe the tears forming in his eyes.

"You're not a terrible person, Spence. Just.." Taking a deep breath, you actually think about your response this time. When you come to a conclusion, you don't know if it's the right one or not. "Just, promise not to do it again, alright?"

Spencer watches you as you wipe away the tears that have formed in his eyes. He looks up and meets your eyes with some of the most pure love and devotion he has ever had. He slowly nods his head in agreement as a small smile starts to form on his face at your response.

"I promise, my love... I will do anything to make up for what I've done."

His words are filled with so much love and compassion it almost seems impossible that he is the same man who hurt you so many months ago.

You slowly nod and swallow, and try to push away the already rising feelings of sadness and regret.

"Can I kiss you without being interrupted, now?"

Spencer chuckles a little and nods.

"Of course you can... I've been dying for one." He gives you a playful wink and a playful shove to your shoulder before turning to kiss you deeply. When he pulls away his eyes are filled with the same passion and desire you have always loved, and a bit of the same lust you felt earlier as well. He smiles at you as he leans back on the couch and wraps his hands on your hips. 

"Come closer. I've missed you so much."

A warm feeling fills your body at his words and you grab the back of his head to tug him into a hot and heavy kiss, full of pent up emotions of anger, lust, love, and hurt.

Spencer moves in for the kiss with just as much desire and lust as you. He lets out a small, playful moan as you pull on his hair, he grabs your waist as you kiss him and a small smile forms on his mouth.

As your lips break apart he catches his breath for a minute but he seems unable to resist you for too long as he pulls you in again for another kiss, this one even stronger than the one before and his hands start to wander under your clothes to the small of your back. Just one moment seems to be too long without his arms around you and his lips on yours.

A sigh of satisfaction pours from your mouth into his, and the feeling of his hands on your bare skin was a sensation you've gone far too long without. His fingers swirling up the flesh of your back feels like it's burning you in the best way, and you're all too eager to finally connect with him again.

Moving your hands to take off your shirt, you pull away from the kiss, much to his disappointment. As you tug the fabric off your body and over your head, you're left in your bra and jeans as you look up at him through long lashes and sultry eyes.

Spencer gasps at the sight of you and it takes all of his restraint not to just pounce you like an animal. A grin washes across his face and that devilish glint returns to his eyes once more.

“You are more beautiful than I ever remembered,” He says in a way that is both flirtatious but also full of love and adoration. He smiles as he looks up at you. 

“Will you allow me the honor of taking those off of you?”

"Please.." Is all you can mewl out, lust washing over your entire body, just ready to be his again.

At your words, Spencer's eyes light up with excitement and he smiles widely before getting off the couch and kneeling down in front of you. He slowly reaches out to the clasp of your bra and undoes it before slowly sliding it down your arms and off of you. He doesn't even try to hide his joy, it's evident in just how much he's smiling and the glimmer in his eye.

"You're still so perfect, my love... Just like a goddess." He whispers as he reaches to undo your jeans and unzip them.

You lift your bottom a bit off the couch to help him pull your pants down your legs, moaning softly at the cool air hitting your skin. Your arms cross over your chest, not used to being exposed like this after so long.

Spencer can't take his eyes away from you as he takes in your body again and a deep, content sigh escapes his lips as he looks at you.

"God.. You're more beautiful than I ever thought was possible," He whispers in amazement as his eyes take in your exposed body. "And you're just as beautiful on the inside too. I’m sorry it took me so long to understand that.."

You can feel your breath hitching at his words, and a warm blush spreads over your cheeks, and you slowly lower your hands from over your chest, and rest them next to your bare thighs. You're only left in your panties now, sitting on the couch as he's kneeling in front of you.

Spencer's heart speeds up and he breathes heavily as he takes in the view in front of him. It's almost a little overwhelming, but all he can manage to do is take it in and admire you as he is left speechless for a moment. Finally, he comes to and he slowly moves in to touch your thighs. He takes his time and caresses them softly with his fingertips.

At his soft soft, you flinch slightly before letting your body relax. You trusted him, even after so long.

You can see the care and love in every soft caress that Spencer deals to your delicate body. His slow, steady touch is done with an intensity and a passion that almost seems to radiate off of him and you can feel it as his fingertips glide over the skin of your thighs. You don't know if you have ever felt someone be so delicate, slow, and methodical with something before but it’s beautiful, almost like he was dealing with a piece of art. 

Subconsciously, you feel yourself slowly spreading your legs as you watch his large hands move towards your body, and take the bands of your underwear in his fingers. He looks up at you for approval.

Spencer's breath catches in his throat and you can see his jaw practically hanging open as he's overwhelmed by the view that's in front of him. "You're beautiful, darling.." He says like it's a prayer. He lets out a soft sigh, and he nods in approval before slowly taking the bands off and peeling them down your legs.

You moan now that you're fully exposed in front of him, and all previous confidence you had in you has completely dissipated under his intense glare. Once the air flushes against your bare, soaked cunt, it makes you shudder with a shiver. 

Spencer's eyes narrow down on you and they burn with passion and emotion at seeing you there on the couch in front of him, all spread out and ready for him. He's lost in you for a minute and you can see it as his breath hitches and his jaw is still hanging half open. He still moves with deliberate, slow, and gentle touches as he moves his hand to the top of your thigh.

"Baby.. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers breathless, almost as though he is stunned by just the sight of you.

Moving your legs, you hook your calf around the back of his head, pulling him closer to your spread thighs, and there's a devilish smirk on your face.

He’s caught aback by how you pull him closer to your core and his eyes go wide at the gesture. He seems a little bit surprised but in the end he doesn't argue, instead he lets out a small chuckle and moves in closer to the point that the front of his face is pressed up against your thighs.

"What are you doing to me, love?" He asks innocently with a smirk of his own as he looks up at you with an amused smile on his face. His warm breath is ghosting over your glistening hole, and it makes you all the more desperate for him. 

“Making up for lost time.” 

You pull him in closer with your leg latched around him, urging him to get on with it already. You hadn’t slept with anyone since the two of you broke up, and you never really had time to take care of yourself. But that’s what he was there for. 

“Guess I better get to work, then..”

Spencer huskily spoke before leaning down and encasing your puffy clit between his spit slicked lips. The sensation instantly made you arch your back and jolt away from him, but he was quick to wrap his hands and arms under your thighs and over your hips, forcing you closer.

As he pulls you closer, his long wet tongue peeks out from his mouth and licks a broad stripe up your cunt, tasting just how much you missed him. With each lick, he was lapping up at your juices like a man starved, moaning at the way your slick coated his tongue. 

Your lips were parted in a high pitched mewl, and you squeezed his head tighter with your legs. It made him dizzy, being suffocated by your shaking thighs and your gushing pussy, and he couldn’t have asked to be anywhere better. 

The wet muscle between your folds was pistoning in and out of you like heavy machinery, working you just the way you needed. You could feel your cunt contracting around him, further gushing your arousal on his tongue. 

Spencer was breathlessly moaning into your core, not being able to contain it. He was agonizingly hard in his pants, and it took everything in him to pry himself away from you. When he does, he deals one last slow, tortuous lick up your folds, before licking his lips and backing away. 

You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he was already working on lifting you from the couch, quickly making his way into the hallway and where he knew your bedroom was.

You could feel your still soaked cunt rubbing against the silky fabric of his shirt, and couldn't help but grind your hips down against it. You had been so touch starved, that even this tiny bit of satisfaction made your breath catch in your throat.

He gently laid you down on the bed, making sure your head was rested against a pillow, before he practically tore the buttons off his shirt trying to take it off. And his pants were no different, the leather of his belt slid against the fabric of his dress pants, and as soon as you heard a small clank of metal against your floor, his pants followed suit. 

When he was fully undressed, and crawled over your body until he was caging you underneath him, and the sight of his slightly sweaty hair falling over his face made your chest heavy with emotion. 

Spencer leans down to kiss a line from your chin to your jaw, before stopping at your ear and lowly whispering into it. 

“Think you can let me take care of you again, like old times?” 

And it’s almost like his voice has put you under a trance, because before he can even finish, you’re nodding. It didn’t matter what he asked of you, you’d always say yes. 

He lifts himself away from you with a small mirrored nod, before hoisting you by your waist and flipping your pliant body around, and propping a pillow under your stomach and hips.

The cool material pressed against your sweat sheened skin made you sigh, and his rough hands traced over the curves of your hips and ass like he was trying to relive all the nights that he used to have you like this; plush ass bent over in front of him, soaked cunt begging for attention, spread legs practically inviting him between them. 

He swallows at the memories, and has a hard time convincing himself this is actually happening again. But he doesn’t dwell on it for too long, whether or not you’re really in front of him, or he’s just dreaming again, he can’t leave you like this. He loves you too much. 

Trembling hands find the heavy bobbing length of his cock, and he grabs himself at the base, shakily squeezing in order to urge himself to not cum immediately. You deserved better than that. You deserved so much better than everything he could give you, and he promised himself he’d somehow redeem himself. 

There wasn’t a better time to start than now, he thinks to himself as he tilts his hips forward to rub the leaking tip of his member against the silky folds of your cunt. And thank goodness he’s kneeling, because the second he felt soft, wet flesh against him, he would’ve collapsed. 

“G-God.. Missed this..”

You lift your head slightly from where it’s pressed against the pillow, and look back at him with a lazy smile. Your voice is slighted muffled against the fabric, but he understands you.

“Didn’t get laid over the summer, Spence?” 

You lift your ass higher, arching your back further so he would get the memo to fuck you already, and with a shake of his head and the cant of his hips, he’s easing himself inside of you, inch by inch. 

“N-No.. Was always yours, love.”

The smile slowly falls from your face and you turn back around to bury your face in the pillow, trying to play it off with a pleasured sigh. 

The two of you had stayed loyal to one another, despite everything. The thought made your heart swell and your cunt clench. He was unmistakably yours, and he always would be, no matter what. 

The squeeze of your hole around him forced him inside of you quicker than he had planned on, and he had to bite his lip, breaking skin, to stop himself from finishing right there and then. He grunted as he tried to regain control over himself, and pushed himself the rest of the way inside of you.

When he was buried to the hilt inside of you, your eyes rolled back into your skull and you bit at the pillow to stop yourself from screaming. He filled you so perfectly, just as he used to. It felt right, like he belonged nowhere else but entirely swallowed by your cunt. 

Spencer mutters out a few curses to himself before he’s draping himself over your body, pressing his firm chest against your damp back. His mouth is right by your ear, and you move your head to the side a bit to hear him better. 

And hear him better you definitely do. You can feel the heave of his chest as he breathlessly begins to withdraw his cock from inside of you. The rub of his veiny, long length dragging along your soft walls had you cursing like a sailor. 

As his breaths and moans quicken, so does the shove of his hips against your ass. He was so deep inside of you it was a miracle he was even able to pull himself out of you, but he managed to do it just fine. There were no complaints from you whatsoever as you felt him imprint the image of his tip right against your spot with every thrust he dealt to you. 

Your hands were planted out in front of you, gripping at the fabric of the comforter when his own came and fully encompassed them. Spencer intertwined your fingers together as the visceral sound of your pussy sucking him deeper and deeper filled your ears. 

Every time he humped into you, your clit brushed against the pillow, and it only made your cries of pleasure grow louder. The friction was dizzying, and you unknowingly clench around him impossibly tighter. 

And he just about loses his mind at that moment. When he’s sucked flush against your body, he goes cross eyed and squeezes your hands in his, as if trying to ground himself. A guttural groan leaves him and it’s a few more moments before he’s panting in your ear as he starts to move once more. 

He pulled back his hips to let his cock slide halfway out of you, before forcing himself back into that tight drenched cunt of yours. You can feel the spurt of arousal that leaks out of you at the force of his thrust, and you writhed at the feeling. 

Your body shakes underneath his as the combined feeling of grinding yourself down against the pillow and how deliciously his length abused your cervix and puffy folds drives you mad. You were gasping for air, trading your desperate moans and whines for a chance at breathing.  

“Sp-Spence.. Baby–please.” 

There wasn’t one single thought in your brain that knew what you were begging for, but somehow, Spencer knew exactly what to give you.

“L-Love you so much, sweet thing..” 

He moans out to you, then he leans down unbelievably closer to you. He lets go of one of your hands to wrap his own around your neck, grabbing at your throat as gently as he can to urge your face up to kiss him. 

It’s a little hard to catch his lips with yours, as with each plow into you sent your body forward, along with how heavily he was breathing. But when you do, the two of you seal your lips together in a passionate, burning kiss. 

His grip around your throat tightens a bit, and it’s enough to entirely set you off the edge. With one more ground of your hips against the pillow, and one more stamp of his cock against that little spongy spot inside of you, you’re suddenly soaking everything around you. 

The wet noise of your release is all you and him can hear, as you’re spraying your arousal all over his hips, his cock, your thighs, and those poor sheets underneath the two of you. Your eyes cross almost comically at the feeling of your orgasm rushing through you, and Spencer is doing no better.  

As he feels you squirt all over him, he curses into your ear and his entire body goes rigid. His hips still and he pushes himself as deep as he can possibly get before dumping everything he’s worth right into your soaked velvet core, sending ribbon after ribbon of his cum right against your cervix. 

“F-Fuck.. Fuck.. fuck..” 

All you can think about is how full you are. His cock is miraculously still hard inside of you, even though he’s emptied everything he’s got into you, and his thick cum is practically fighting for any room left you’ve got inside you. 

Wet. Wet would be the only word to describe the scene you’ve found yourself in. Your body goes limp against the soaked bed, and his sweat drenched body finds itself at the same fate as he collapses against you. The hand around your throat loosens and snakes its way back to your lonely hand, intertwining them once again. 

The both of you are panting against each other's faces for god knows how long, and neither of you have moved a muscle. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, running down the expanse of your thighs to join the puddles of your own arousal that pool against the bed. 

With a groan, he slowly pulled out of you, and it was like pulling the plug to a well, because the second his cock left your hole, a gush of a mixture of your arousals flowed out of you.

He chuckles at the sight, while you just moan softly. Spencer lays down right next to you and pulls your body against his, so you’re chest to chest. He reaches to move your sweaty hair out of your face, pressing a warm kiss against your sticky cheek. When he speaks, his voice is strained and you wouldn’t be surprised if he had lost his voice. 

“You know, he was talking about you during class today..” 

The slight rasp and squeak in his voice is problematically attractive to you, but you don’t think you could deal with another orgasm after flooding your own bed. 

You shake your head and groan softly at his words. 

“Oh god, what’d he say?” 

“He kept saying to everyone, ‘Mr.Reid is Mommy’s boyfriend!’” 

The tone in his voice heightens as he tries his best to imitate your son's words. You groan again and close your eyes. 

“And I’m guessing you didn’t say anything to him about it?” 

Your voice is strained and laced with faux annoyance, but he sees right through it. Spencer huffs out a small laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead. With the arm that’s holding you against him, he squeezes your shoulders lightly, as if to tease you. 

“Course I didn’t, can’t embarrass him like that..” 

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and he pulls you closer to him as you shake your head.  

“You’re the worst, I hope you know.” Your tone is playful and teasing, but you can feel yourself relaxing in his hold, allowing yourself to savor the moment for the time being. 

“Maybe, but at least I’m ‘Mommy’s boyfriend’ again..” 

[reads4reid]

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

[reads4reid]

Post-Mortem

Summary: Spencer wants to get back with Reader a month after their breakup, and it doesn't go the way he planned.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst

Content warning: Breakup, recovering from heartbreak, rejection, sad ending

Word count: 1.3k

Spencer Reid broke my heart, plain and simple. Eight months of wonder and joy were destroyed at one dinner. A romantic one, just to twist the knife more. I was sure we would’ve been together longer, which is why it felt like the world caved in when he ended it. I never felt so broken. At that moment, I could say it was the dinner to end all dinners. Because I told Spencer I never wanted to see him again.

So you can imagine his surprise (and mine) when I agreed to meet him for a coffee a month later. I took deep breaths in the car because, like the breakup, this location was just as methodical. The spot where we first met in our respective rushes to work, he decided would be the last. When opening the shop door and hearing the familiar bell ding, it's like a neck-breaking transport. And when I spot Spencer at a table, with two cups and a pastry wrapped in front of him, the reminder to breathe comes back. 

One of the most painful things about heartbreak is that it doesn’t rip up memories like your body. They’re as clear as ever when Spencer stands from his seat while we lock eyes. The chair legs scooting across the floor were as loud as it was when we came here for quick breakfasts. Quick breakfasts were never my choice, but duty calling never involves convenience. A call from Spencer’s phone was equivalent to a brace for impact. The anxiety of waiting for the pleasantries to inevitably end was as real as the others in the shop turning their heads at the sound of Spencer’s chair. Brief and dreadful.

Nevertheless, I walked forward, keeping eye contact and an optimistic look. “Hey,” I said.

“Hi.” His hand pops up to wave as his lips thin out in his classic unrelaxed half-smile. “How are you?”

I sit. “Alright.” I can lie if I try hard enough. That’s one perk of dating a profiler. “You?”

“Good.” He nods while shifting in his seat. “Yeah, good.”

“You look exhausted.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Did you just get back from a case?”

“Yeah, last night. Los Angeles.” He rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept. “I got you an iced vanilla latte.” He points to the cup, condensation already layering the outside of it.

I take a sip. It’s watered-down but sweet. “Thanks.”

He then slides the mystery pastry toward me. “And a scone.”

This will be a long sit-down. He wants it to be. I can smell the scone. Nostalgia hits hard and doesn’t apologize. “Chocolate Chunk,” I say. It’s what I ordered the first time. He and his damned eidetic memory remember how I entertain desserts whenever I eat somewhere. And I remember our last dinner, how he ended it before they even had a chance to offer the selections. I didn’t touch it. Instead, I leaned in my chair. I thought I should kick back. “Why’d you call me here, Spencer?”

He looked around the room as if others wanted to listen in on this riveting conversation. He takes his coffee and slowly sips, putting it down. “One of the victims, her girlfriend… or ex-girlfriend was devastated during our interview. They had been on a break and she —”

“Regretted the way things ended, and now that she’s dead she can’t say sorry.” I’ll admit I didn’t care for my monotone voice, but he’s told me similar stories and a range of others that cut him deep. And I listened and held him then.

Then is, unfortunately, not now.

Spencer’s eyes darted from the cup to the scone, to me, back to the scone, then to me again. “I really am sorry.” His voice is strained.

I gripped my sweater sleeves under the table, like how the dinner ended. Except I stood up from the table with my fists deep in the soft linen covering it. The anger boiling inside fueled my force as I walked out of the restaurant was literally a raging spectacle, despite the deafening sound of my heart cracking in my ears.

The anger had long subsided. “I know.”

His eyebrows raised, likely expecting a more spit-in-your-face response. “You do?”

“The phone calls made it easy to assume.” That doesn’t mean I answered. He called once a week, but picking up the phone any earlier than yesterday would’ve led to undignified sniffles, giving me away instantly. My broken heart has calcified significantly in record time.

Spencer nodded. “I know I hurt you, and I hope you can forgive me someday.” For a minute, I wondered if this was the workings of a genius or a psychopath (he hangs around enough of both). Because despite the cruelty of such a planned-out ending, I somehow felt sorry for him. And I hate to admit there’s a small part of me that wants to crumble to his side.

“It’ll be okay,” I told him. “Water’s making its way under the bridge.” Time was all I needed.

Quiet takes over for a brief moment between us, and even though we’ve been apart for a month, it doesn’t take away the other eight. Spencer’s eyes, puppy-like in shape and oaky in color, are as obvious as the rest of his behavior.

“That isn’t why you wanted me here. Isn't it?"

He licks his lips and shakes his head. “I was hoping… in due time, of course, we could try again.”

The sigh that came out of me was involuntary. I wouldn’t have held back my response even a week ago, and he was lucky about that. “Spencer, I’m sorry. It may not feel like it now, but I think, in retrospect, you made a wise choice.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Nothing has changed. You were just in Los Angeles.”

“But I could try harder. Like you wanted." He swallows again. “I miss you.”

Damn, that was all I thought.

“Well,” I cleared my throat. It didn’t help. “Maybe… maybe we can be friends someday. But for now, I hate to say this,” I do. “But it might be a smart idea to keep our separate ways for a while.”

The best thing I could do is avoid diving headfirst into my true feelings. To expect things to suddenly change just because he wants to return. It's vulnerability and blissful ignorance I can’t afford. Calcified is an accurate way to describe my current state, but fragility is still there. I’ve managed to get to bed without crying for a week, but the sucker punch of memories, the freshness is very prevalent. I can still pretend here.

Spencer though, no matter how hard he tries, is not a stoic person. It’s not in him. If he’s angry, it comes out in passive-aggressive remarks or emotional outbursts containing at most a single swear word. And when sadness comes, tears are sure to follow.

I see one fall, and I try to avoid erosion as he wipes the trail off his cheek. “I understand.” He doesn’t look up.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” That's all I can say. Having the tables turned is painful.

“I don’t blame you. I handled it terribly.”

I said nothing.

“And if I could, I’d —”

His phone vibrated. Brace.

“Duty calls,” I say with a lilt, and he isn't amused. I take another sip of my coffee before I scoot my chair back.  I push the scone toward him, but he stops me halfway. We don’t flinch at the contact, fingers nearly laced.

“It’s yours. You take it.” He pushed.

“I think you need it more." I push.

“Please.” He adds force.

I let go, leaving his hand alone on the wooden surface. I try to concoct a smile. “Take care of yourself, Spencer.” I stand up from my chair and turn to head toward the exit. The ding of the bell comes and goes, and the sun splashes my face with warmth. Tears collect and cool my cheeks as I walk to the car, but I let them.

[reads4reid]

The Dangers of Tennis Skirts

request: maybe a blurb for nervous spencer around reader wearing a short skirt? and the reader doesn't notice and he's all flustered and shy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “you know, reid,” you said, “guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

genre: fluff

word count: 816

author's notes: this is my first ever blurb! i wrote this to practice writing blurbs & writing this was so fun. also, i hope anon doesn’t mind that i wrote this with a fem!reader in mind & reader noticing spencer getting flustered. i just think it would be a lot funnier that way. thank you for this cute request, anon! i got to practice writing blurbs and it's about shy!spencer? a win for me! i hope you'll love this ♡

also posted on ao3 (spencereids)

“Reid, you okay?” Morgan asked the younger male.

Despite his blatant intelligence and many talents, Spencer Reid is just a man. And just like any hot-blooded guy out there who is interested in exploring the curves and dips of a woman’s body, Spencer can’t help but have his IQ slashed down to sixty, or whatever it was Emily said before. And unfortunately for him, hiding the effect of seeing you in a short, white tennis skirt for the first time is not one of Spencer’s talents.

“Yep,” Spencer said, popping the p as he tried to stop his ogling—cue the word, stop—but failed magnanimously, eyes wide, pulse racing, and mouth gaping. 

Morgan frowned at the doctor's weird behavior. Usually, when asked how he is, Spencer would go on tangents that would be relevant to the conversation at hand. A single Yep! would not suffice for the boy genius.

Something is going on with him, Morgan thought. 

Worried but still weirded out by Spencer, Morgan followed his line of sight and guffawed at what he found. You just entered the bullpen in a fluffy beige sweater, a white tennis skirt, and with your hair tied with a white ribbon. 

"Oh, pretty boy," Morgan exclaimed between chuckles. "You are hopeless!" 

"Who's hopeless?" Garcia, who just sat on one of the chairs available, interjected. 

Morgan continued chuckling and motioned to Spencer, whose eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, and then pointed at you just entering the area. Garcia gasped in happiness. She always thought you and boy genius would make the perfect couple. 

And like Spencer, Garcia has many talents. One of which is playing Cupid.

Making the most out of Spencer’s inattentiveness—busy staring at you—Garcia made quick work of calling you over to talk about your cute outfit.

“Hey, Y/N!” Garcia blurted out. “I love LOVE your outfit. We all do.”

She made sure to gesture at Morgan and definitely at Spencer. “Right, boy genius?”

This interrupted Spencer in reverie and unfortunately for him, he’s not the most subtle when he’s back from being lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Reid?” You asked, none the wiser at the obvious display of Spencer getting distracted by your outfit, specifically, your skirt.

Spencer’s eyes widened at your concern. Frightened you’d find out the reason he was dazed was because of you, he instantly stood up from his seat, failing to notice that an electric cord was stuck beneath the chair. And with his quick scrambling, coupled with the fact that his reflexes are akin to that of a toddler just learning to walk, Spencer ended up falling face-first into the floor.

At his clumsiness, Morgan snickered loudly, earning him a slap from Garcia with a matching, “You are not helping at all!” And a glare from you to which he raised his arms in defeat. You held your palm out for Spencer to reach, who was busy trying to dust off his pants, not noticing it was you helping him up until he looked up. 

Aside from talents, Spencer was blessed with the gift of hard luck. And unfortunately for him, it seemed his hard luck always tripled in front of a pretty girl—you. Because instead of looking into your eyes when he looked up, his eyes landed on the plush softness of your thighs, which you haven’t failed to notice.

Spencer never wanted to dig a hole and jump in it so badly before today.

You were already giggling, cheeks reddening at the thought of your effect on the genius. Imagine reducing a cute guy with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to a clumsy mess on the floor. Quite flattering, especially if he happened to be the guy you have been crushing on for quite some time now. Not that he knew that, of course. But a girl has gotta take her chances, right? And what better way to tease the hell out of your crush than when he was face-first into your thighs?

“You know, Reid,” You said coolly, “Guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

Spencer’s eyes bulged out even more while Morgan was belly laughing at this point, Garcia right behind him, giggling in delight. 

“I-I uh,” Spencer began to ramble, trying to come up with a tangent that could get him out of this mess, failing to remember that just like him, you were gifted with many talents as well. And that is making the most out of an unfortunate—not unfortunate, your crush is face first on your thighs!—situation.

“Sorry, Spence,” You chortled, ruffling his hair. “You’re not getting out of this one. We are going out after this case.”

This got Morgan falling out of his chair in laughter, Garcia giggling along, and Spencer’s pinkened cheeks resembling an actual tomato with their redness.

[reads4reid]

just saw the post abt having to explain to spencer the talking stage then an actual relationship and how he overhears her telling someone she doesnt hv a bf maybe a blurb/fic on that idea?

Spencer steals glances at you every morning while you make your coffee and chat with Emily. It's so apparent to everyone what he's doing that JJ and Morgan have taken to stealing things off his desk, seeing how much they can take before he notices.

One day, when you're walking back to your desk you make a comment that has his interest piqued even more. "No, I don't have a boyfriend at the moment. I'm enjoying being single."

Spencer's heart sinks at your words, his mind instantly conjuring images of your dates. Dates that should mean he's your boyfriend, right? So why are you telling everyone you're single?

His head is spinning with confusion, and it's turning to anger pretty quickly. Are you ashamed to be with him? Surely if you're enjoying being single, that means you're dating other people or that you're not even interested in him.

He can't believe it, his emotions swinging from anger to sadness. It's unbelievable and you're breaking his heart.

Before you're even sitting down, Spencer's getting up and rushing to the bathroom to calm his racing heart rate before he has to be sick.

Your conversation doesn't even remain in your mind while you continue your day. What feels odd is Spencer freezing you out. Usually, on boring paperwork days, Spencer will tell you fun facts or dumb science jokes just to break up the repetitive work and horrific nature of your files.

He doesn't. Not a single comment comes your way, not even when you ask very open-ended science questions, basically inviting him to ramble about his favorite topics. None of it entices him.

His sarcastic remarks come just after lunchtime with a snappy attitude that irritates you. You're worried about him, firstly. Something must be wrong in his personal life to have him like this, but you can't help feeling a little angry that it's all being directed at you.

You were just starting to really like him and now he's turned around and shown you who he really is just because you're arguably who he's closest with. He's quickly becoming not the type of person you want to be with.

When you're the last two people in the bullpen, you realize you can't let him stay there all night. No matter how annoying he is, you're his friend, first and foremost, and he's clearly going through something.

So you approach him. "Hey, do you want to get dinner?" You ask.

"Not with you," Spencer replies coldly and totally uncharacteristically.

That's your breaking point. "What's wrong? Seriously, you've been horrible to me all day and I can't think of anything I've done to offend you."

Spencer sighs and it's weirdly more regretful than angry. "I... do you remember what you said this morning?"

You frown, unsure of what exactly he's referencing. "No?" Then you quickly add, "But I want to make things right."

"You said you didn't have a boyfriend." He feels pathetic saying it. The idea that someone like you would never be interested had been slipping from his mind, but now that concern is at the front of his mind.

You're only more confused then. "I don't."

"I thought I..." His cheeks flame up with embarrassment and he puts on a front of nonchalance. "I thought I was your boyfriend, okay? That's it."

Oh.

You wish you could have given Emily a different answer that morning. You would have proudly told her that Spencer Reid is your boyfriend, but you couldn't.

"You never asked me." You say softly, shuffling awkwardly on your feet.

"Did I need to?" He wonders dumbly, and it's very obvious that he's just unaware.

You shrug, explaining your point of view. "I thought we were still at the talking stage."

"The what?" Spencer asks.

"Like when you're just talking and casually dating, trying to work out if you're friends or if there's a romantic connection." You describe.

He nods softly before his heart sinks again. "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." You're easily the best thing that's been in his life for a long time, and now he's totally ruined it. If you didn't think he was too inexperienced before, you do now.

"You're not, not provably." You break the awkward silence and tension that's fallen over the room, making him chuckle a little. "And I like you, exclusively."

Spencer's frown is adorable but it's concerning large this time. "Really? Still?"

"Mm-hmm." You assure him. "As long as you promise to talk to me when something's wrong instead of icing me out."

He stands up quickly, nodding. "I swear and I'm really sorry." He promises you. "So would you like to go to dinner? As boyfriend and girlfriend?"

You try to suppress an inappropriately large grin. "I would."

Spencer doesn't hide his smile and he's awkwardly tripping over his bag and feet to meet you around his side of the desk. "Let's do it." He smiles softly at you, offering out his hand for you to hold.

You take it happily, walking to the elevator with him. "Let's do it, boyfriend."

[reads4reid]

A bond beyond romance

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When you meet Spencer's mother, Diana, in the hospital, you don’t expect to form a close friendship with her. As you spend time together, you visits Diana even when Spencer can't make it, and the two grow closer. You surprise Diana with a gifts, and Spencer discovers your special bond when he visits his mother and sees pictures of you together. Despite the circumstances, you treasure the relationship you form with Diana, and the story shows that love can come in many forms, not just romantic ones.

Warnings: none

WC: 1.729

You and Spencer had been dating for a few months now and things were going great. He had even introduced you to his mother, Diana, who he was very close to.

As you and Spencer walked into the hospital room, you saw a woman lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines. Spencer walked over to her and took her hand in his.

"Mom, I want you to meet someone" he said, gesturing towards you. "Love, this is my mother, Diana."

"Hello, Diana," you said softly, walking over to her bed. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Diana smiled weakly at you. "It's nice to meet you too, dear," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for coming to visit me."

"It's no problem at all," you replied, taking a seat beside her bed. "I'm sorry to hear that you're not feeling well. How are you doing?"

Diana shrugged. "Oh, you know. It's been a bit rough lately. But I'm in good hands here," she said, gesturing towards the medical equipment around her.

Spencer chimed in, "My girlfriend has been a great help to me during this difficult time. She's been so supportive and understanding."

Diana's eyes lit up at hearing this. "Well, you certainly have good taste in women, Spencer," she said with a smile.

Spencer chuckled. "I know, right?"

The three of you chatted for a while longer, getting to know each other and sharing stories. Despite the circumstances, you felt a sense of warmth and connection with Diana, and you could see where Spencer had inherited his kind heart and quick wit.

As it came time for you and Spencer to leave, you took Diana's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Take care, Diana. I'll come visit you again soon," you said, feeling a pang of sadness at leaving her.

Diana smiled back at you. "Thank you, dear. You're a lovely young woman, and I'm so glad that Spencer has you in his life."

As you walked out of the hospital room, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to meet Spencer's mother and to start forming a relationship with her, despite the difficult circumstances. You knew that you would do whatever it takes to support both Spencer and his mother in the days and weeks to come.

You had hit it off with her right away and enjoyed spending time with her whenever you could. What Spencer didn't know was that you had been coming to visit his mother at the hospital even when he couldn't make it due to work.

A few weeks had passed since your last visit to the hospital to see Spencer's mother, and you had been feeling a bit guilty for not being able to make it as often as you would have liked. So, one afternoon, you decided to surprise her with another visit.

As you walked into her hospital room, you saw that Diana was sitting up in her bed, reading a book. When she heard the door open, she looked up and her face broke into a smile.

"Sweetie ! What a wonderful surprise," she exclaimed, setting down her book and motioning for you to come closer. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you. How are you feeling?" you asked, pulling up a chair next to her bed.

Diana shrugged. "Oh, you know. Same old, same old. But seeing you always brightens my day."

You smiled back at her. "I brought you something," you said, pulling out a small box from your bag. "It's nothing fancy, just a little something to show you how much I appreciate you."

Diana's eyes lit up as she opened the box to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a small pendant. "Oh, it's beautiful," she said, holding it up to admire it in the light.

"I'm glad you like it," you replied, feeling a sense of satisfaction at seeing her pleased with the gift.

As you chatted and caught up on each other's lives, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the bond you had formed with Spencer's mother.

Despite the circumstances, you felt like you had gained a friend in her, and you treasured the moments you spent together.

As it came time for you to leave, Diana held your hand and looked at you with a soft expression. "Thank you for coming to see me. It means more to me than you know."

"Of course, Diana. I'm happy to come and visit you anytime," you said, feeling a lump form in your throat.

As you left the hospital, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the special relationship you had formed with Spencer's mother, and you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always hold a special place in your heart for her.

One day, Spencer had a rare day off and decided to go visit his mother at the hospital.

As he walked into her room, he noticed something that caught his eye. There were pictures of you and his mother together, along with other items like books and a blanket that he had never seen before.

"Mom, what's all this?" Spencer asked, gesturing to the pictures and items.

Diana smiled at him. "Oh, those are just some things that my daughter in law brought for me. She comes to visit me often, you know? We've become quite close."

Spencer's heart swelled with pride and happiness at hearing this. He had always known how caring and thoughtful you were, but this just confirmed it. He felt lucky to have you in his life, and to know that you had formed a bond with the most important person in his life, his mother.

"Really?" Spencer asked, a smile spreading across his face. "That's wonderful."

Diana nodded, looking pleased. "Yes, she's a wonderful young woman. You're lucky to have her, Spencer."

Spencer had stopped by the hospital to visit his mother, after the previous conversation with her he tried to be more present, but before he entered her room, he overheard her chatting with someone. As he got closer, he realized that the voice belonged to you. He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, but then curiosity got the better of him and he listened in.

"...and when are you going to give me some grandchildren with Spencer?" Diana was teasing you, but Spencer could hear the hint of longing in her voice.

You chuckled. "I'm sure Spencer would love to give you some grandkids, but I think we're still working on that part."

Spencer felt his cheeks turn red at the mention of the two of you having kids. You had talked about your future before, but they were still figuring things out. He couldn't deny that the thought of starting a family with you was an exciting one, but he didn't want to rush things.

As he entered the room, both you and Diana turned to greet him. Spencer put on his best smile, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He hugged his mother and then turned to you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," he said, gesturing to the flowers in your hands. "Those are for Mom?"

You nodded. "Just a little something to brighten up her day."

Diana smiled, taking the flowers from you. "Thank you, sweetheart. You always know how to put a smile on my face."

Spencer felt a twinge of guilt knowing that he hadn't been able to visit his mother as often as he would have liked. But seeing the way his mother looked at you made him realize that he didn't need to be there all the time. You had become an important part of his mother's life, and he was grateful for that.

As the three of you chatted and caught up, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness knowing that his mother and his girlfriend had formed a close bond. And as he left the hospital that day, he knew that he had someone special by his side, someone who cared not just for him, but for the people he loved as well.

You and Spencer had just arrived home after a lovely afternoon with his mother, Diana. As you both settled in on the couch, Spencer turned to you with a mischievous grin on his face.

"You know that thing about grandchildren my mom said?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why not?"

You looked at him, surprised by his sudden change in topic. "What do you mean, why not?"

Spencer leaned in closer to you, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I mean, why not have kids? You and me. Together."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Sure, you had talked about your future together before, but the idea of starting a family had never come up. You weren't sure if you were ready for that kind of commitment.

"Spencer, I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of responsibility," you said honestly, feeling a sense of panic rising in your chest.

Spencer looked at you with understanding. "I know it's a big decision. But think about it, Y/N. We could have a family of our own, just like my mom always wanted. And I know we'd make great parents."

You thought about it for a moment, imagining what it would be like to have children with Spencer. It was a scary thought, but also a thrilling one.

"I'll think about it," you finally said, smiling at Spencer. "But let's take it one step at a time, okay?"

Spencer nodded, looking satisfied with your answer. "Okay. One step at a time."

As you cuddled up next to him on the couch, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the loving and supportive man beside you. And as for the idea of starting a family, well, maybe it wasn't such a crazy idea after all.

Spencer couldn't agree more with his mother. As he sat down beside his mother, he thought about how lucky he was to have you in his life. He knew that you and his mother would always have a special bond, just like the one he had with each of you. And that thought filled him with a sense of warmth and contentment that he knew would stay with him always.

[reads4reid]

Daddy's Little Helper.

Spencer wants nothing more than to show his appreciation for you babysitting his daughter, but by giving you a baby of your own was not what you expected. 

Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, age gap (10+), innocence kink, breeding kink, loss of virginity, praise, nicknames, creampie, you want him to get you pregnant.  

WC: 6.3K​​

You were Spencer’s babysitter for his daughter, and it had been a long night for the both of you. Spencer had been out late on a case he knew would take a while, and he was more than grateful you were willing to stay for so long while he was away.

It was almost midnight now, and you were sitting on the couch in his living room after you had put her to bed. You were watching TV and absentmindedly scrolling on your phone as you waited for him to arrive home.

You looked up at the sound of the front door opening, and you immediately recognized the footsteps. You put down your phone immediately, your first thought was to stand up and meet him at the door.

As you watch the door open, you greet a very tired Spencer with a welcoming smile.

“Good evening sir, she’s upstairs sleeping now.”

Spencer smiles at you, putting down his coat on the nearby coat rack and walking towards you. 

“Thank you, you’re an angel.. How did she do tonight?" He replied, stopping directly in front of you, and looking down into your eyes with a warm smile on his face.

You crane your neck up slightly to look up at him and return the smile, nervously. You’d be lying if you said his figure looming over you didn’t intimidate you in the best way possible.

“She was really good, less crying than last time.” You say with a small chuckle. “She missed you a lot, though..”

"Awh, I missed her too." Spencer replied, his smile growing as he reached out to put his hand on your lower back, his thumb subconsciously tracing the outline of your shirt.

"It's always a challenge to leave her with a babysitter, you know? But I'm sure you made it more bearable for her." He added, still with the same smile on his face as he looked down at you.

At his soft touch, your body freezes and a red hot blush covers your face. And you weren’t sure if it was because he was tired, or because of something else, but the way his eyes were hooded and trained on you, it made your mouth run dry.

“Y-Yeah, she seems to really like me.”

Your blush caught Spencer's attention, and it caused his smile to grow even wider. He continued to rest his hand on your lower back, as you two continued to stand in the hallway right next to the stairs.

"Well, she's a smart kid. I'm sure she can tell you're good with her. So I'm very glad that she likes you." He said, before looking up the stairs for a moment. 

"She has good taste." He absentmindedly added, with a chuckle. And he had said it so slyly you would’ve missed it if you weren’t so positively entranced by everything he did. 

Your eyes widened at his words, but you brushed it off.

“I’m sure she’d like any other babysitter the same..” You try to avert your gaze from his face, trying to look everywhere but at him.

The father could tell that you were not telling the truth in the slightest. He chuckled again anyway. 

"I think you’re too hard on yourself. I'm sure she wouldn't like just any babysitter." Spencer said, as he reached a hand up to brush back the hair behind your ear. "I know my daughter wouldn't anyway. So don't sell yourself short." He paused for a moment, and then smiled again.

"You know, you can look at me." He added, with a small laugh. His hand reached out to gently grip your chin, and move your jaw so you were forced to look up at him. 

You nervously chuckled to yourself and your eyes darted back up to meet him, and you gave him a bashful smile.

“I-I guess so.. just happy I can make her happy.”

He nodded.

"She's not the only one that you make happy, you know." He said, with a soft tone to his voice and a warm smile on his face. He looked deep into your eyes as he spoke.

"I'm very happy that you're here." He added, with a small chuckle. "I wouldn't have anyone else taking care of her besides you."

“That’s very kind of you, sir. I’m glad I’m able to help out around here.” 

The atmosphere around the two of you is quiet, and there’s an undistinguished tension between you and him.

Spencer seemed to realize the tension between you two suddenly, and he put his other hand on your waist, his thumbs starting to trace soft circles on your skin. He lowered his face until it was only inches from yours, still smiling softly. 

"How about you forget about the whole babysitter thing now? You can stop calling me sir now." He added, with a hint of a flirtatious tone to his voice.

You huff out a small laugh and flash a smile. You could feel his breath on your skin, even though he wasn’t even that close.

“Just seems like the respectful thing to do, and you, out of all people, deserve it the most.” Your eyes pan up to his, looking into his sultry eyes. 

Spencer smiled even wider at that; he was used to women flirting with him, but you were.. different. 

"Well, in that case... Why don't you come a little bit closer and you can just call me Spencer?" He replied, his tone now openly flirting with you as his hands began to trace lower on your body, now resting on your hips.

Your breath hitches and you swallow before stepping once towards him. Your eyes frantically darted all over his face and even around the room, your nerves running wild as he stared down at you as if you were his prey.

Spencer leaned in closer, his face less than inches from yours now. He looked deep into your eyes, his own heart beating a little faster now as he looked over your features. He wanted to touch you... he wanted to kiss you... but he wanted to make sure this was what you wanted too. 

"Can I?" He asked quietly, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper now. He had an idea of what you would answer, but he wanted you to say it yourself.

You felt yourself get backed up onto the wall of the hallway as he pressed himself closer to you. 

“C-Can you what, sir?”

"Can I.. kiss you?" Spencer said quietly, as he leaned in a little closer now. He put his hand up to rest on your cheek, his fingers gently running over it as he placed his other hand on your shoulder. His face was only inches from yours at this point, and his eyes were only on your lips as he waited patiently for you to answer

You swallow and your eyes shine with adoration for the older man. You find yourself nodding, giving him the confirmation he so desperately wanted.

He smiled softly at your answer, before leaning in even closer, his forehead now touching yours as he looked deep into your eyes once again. He moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips softly touched yours. His lips pressed against yours slowly, passionately, as he kissed you... a light, soft kiss at first, before his tongue parted your lips a little and he began to kiss you a little more passionately now. It was obvious how much he wanted this.

A soft moan spills from your mouth at the way he touched you, you felt your back pressed harder against the wall as he pushed himself closer to you.

Spencer moaned quietly back, a soft sound of desire and pleasure escaping his lips as he put more of his weight on you. He pulled away for a second, looking down into your eyes as he gently brushed the hair back off your face.

"Is this okay?" He asked, wanting you to feel fully comfortable with this, but at the same time, not wanting to stop. It felt too good.

You nod in his hold and lick over your lip, biting at it as you look up at him with wide eyes. 

“Yes.. Sir.”

Spencer smiled at your answer before he continued to kiss you again, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth as he kissed you with force, his throat making a series of soft noises as his lips touched yours over and over again.

His hands were on your body the whole time; his hands moved from your back to just below your hips, as one of them began to drift under your shirt and began to trace over your skin, his long fingers drawing lazy, soft circles on your rib cage.

Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his fingers on your skin, it sent a shiver up your spine and made you tremble in his strong hold.

"You feel so good.." Spencer said quietly as he continued to kiss you, his tongue touching yours once again. 

"You are so beautiful, angel.." Spencer added, before kissing you again. His other hand started to inch under your shirt, tracing up your skin, moving further and further up.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the sensation and you sigh in pleasure. “T-Thank you.. Spence..”

He smiled before beginning to kiss your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone with his tongue. His hand slowly continued to inch up your shirt, his fingers resting just below the line of your bra now.

A land hand splays over the fabric of your cups, and he gives an experimental squeeze to your chest. 

"Does that feel good?" Spencer said softly, his voice breathless and full of desire now.

His tongue left a wet trail on your skin, and you bit your plush lip at his touch on your bra.

“Yes.. Sir.”

He smiled at your answer, before kissing you again as he began to slide your shirt off over your shoulders. 

"Good girl," He mumbled against your lips, before breaking off the kiss.

"Now... turn around," He added, his voice still soft and breathless as he whispered into your ear, as his hands pulled your shirt off of you entirely.

You nod and immediately turn around on the wall so your palms are pressed against it, waiting for his next move.

With a soft chuckle, Spencer began to put his hands on the clasps of your bra, gently moving them under their hooks and pulling your bra off as soon as he got a good enough hold on it.

Once he had your bra fully off, he let it slide to the floor before he stepped closer to you, standing behind you as he leaned down and began to kiss your neck and your shoulders. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass, and your body involuntarily arched back to grind onto his cock. 

His mouth dropped in a low groan as he felt you arch back into his touch, and he continued to kiss your shoulder now, before biting down hard, leaving a mark.

Your face twisted in a look of pure pleasure and a bit of pain at the bite on your shoulder, and you let out a visceral moan. All you wanted to be was good for him. Spencer leaned down closer to you, whispering in your ear. 

"God, you're so good for me," He mumbled softly, taking your ear in his mouth and biting on it lightly. You could feel yourself soaking through your panties at this point, his words doing nothing to help the arousal that was rushing through your body. 

Spencer smiled against your skin as he heard the moans, and he quickly nipped at your skin again. He was being careful not to bite down too hard, but he still liked causing you to feel a little bit of pain with his kisses.

"That's my girl.." Spencer whispered into your ear, leaning his weight on you now as his hands were clamped around your hips. "So beautiful."

You nodded subconsciously at his praise and let him do whatever he wanted to you. He kissed your neck again as he moved his hands up to the waist of your jeans.

"Can I?" His thumb began to run down the front of your jeans, playing with the buttons that adorned the denim.  

"Can I?" He repeated, and you moaned when you felt his large land dip down between your thighs, and grab gently at your clothed cunt. The friction the fabric provided against you, as well as his touch on you had you thinking there was no doubt you were soaking through your pants at this point. 

You rub your thighs together at the feeling of him grabbing you, and stroking over you. You nod with a soft moan. 

"P-Please.."

Spencer smiled at your answer, before he leaned down and picked you up by the waist, hoisting you off of the ground a little as he started walking towards the guest bedroom. He walked past the living room and kicked the door to the bedroom open, before walking towards the bed and laying you down onto it.

The way he lowered you down and splayed you out on the mattress made you feel like a princess, and knew he wouldn’t stop until you truly felt like one. 

"I've been waiting such a long time to do this." He murmured softly as he began to unbutton your jeans.

"How long, sir..?" You moaned out, sinking back into the soft sheets of his bed as you felt him frantically push the buttons through their holes, and yank down your zipper.

"Since the moment I met you," He replied quietly, his focus going entirely on undressing you.

"You're even more perfect than I thought you'd be." Spencer's hands moved down into the sides of the jeans once they were undone, and began to slide them down your legs.

When you were left in only your panties, he reached a hand to lightly rub his thumb over your covered clit, making you gasp in surprise. A shaky hand went to grab Spencer’s hand. 

Spencer smiled at your touch, but squeezed your hand.

"How come you're always so nervous whenever I touch you?" He asked gently. He wanted you to feel relaxed with him.. and he hoped that you would be able to soon.

"Don't be afraid to just relax and enjoy it." He added, giving you a soft, supportive smile as he continued to lightly rub over your sensitive bundle. 

“I-I’ve never…” Your voice trailed off gently, hoping he would get the gist. He was the first person to ever touch you like this, and on top of that, he intimidated you like no other, but you loved it.

Spencer could tell from the comment that you left unspoken that you'd never been this intimate with anyone before.. and the thought had him feeling almost possessive over you.

"I'll go slow, okay?" He replied softly, letting go of your hand and removing his touch from you. "But I need you to trust me."

His soft, comforting tone made you shiver, and you nodded your head the best you could as you laid against the bed, trying your best to relax.

“I trust you, Sir.”

His eyes lit up at your answer, and he smiled gently.

"Good girl." Spencer replied, before leaning in and kissing you passionately, his arms moving around your body as he pulled you up closer to him. His hands snaked around your waist and made you arch in his hold. 

He broke the kiss after a few seconds and looked deep into your eyes again, and you could feel impatient fingers slide underneath the bands of your underwear.

"Now... let's get the rest of your clothes off... I'm very impatient right now." He said with a small chuckle. He sits up between your legs and as his fingers reach down to pull down your panties, your breath gets caught in your throat. 

“W-What’s got you so ri-riled up.. Sir?”

"What's got me so riled up? Well..." Spencer replied quietly, with a hint of a smile on his face. 

"I've been wanting this for so long, princess. Seeing you everyday... and being unable to do all the things that I want to do.. It has been killing me. So I hope you can understand why I wouldn't want to waste a moment more."

You nod and press your legs together to make it easier for him to remove your panties. His desperation made your skin burn, and your panties wet.

Once Spencer had your panties off, he let out a soft, breathless chuckle, his face clearly showing how much he was enjoying himself. Your cunt was glistening in the soft warm light of the lamp on the nightstand.  

“There we go..." He whispered, his voice full of desire now as he let his eyes wander up and down your body. 

"You're so beautiful." He added, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You could hear the pure adoration in his voice, and it only turned you on more. A shy blush creeped up onto your face at his praise. 

"You're really turning me on here... I just want you so much.." Spencer whispered quietly as he leaned back down to you now, gently biting on your ear as he kissed you softly. His hands moved down to your hips, moving along your bare curves and up your back now.

"You're so perfect." He added softly. His voice showed just how much he meant it. You were just so perfect for him. 

“How much do you want me, sir?” His touch felt intoxicating on your skin, you could feel yourself melting in his hold. 

"More than.. more than you could possibly imagine..." Spencer replied softly, taking your face in his hands. "I want you so bad I can't take it.." He added, his voice breathless with desire. 

“What do you want to do to me..?” Your wide eyes meet his lust clouded ones.

"I want to touch you in more ways than I ever have before.." Spencer replied, his face moving back down to your neck as he began to kiss it again.

"I want to know every part of your body." He added softly. "Every.. beautiful.. inch." Spencer whispered breathily as his hand left your face to start moving down to the curve of your ass, as if he was checking over your body to make sure this was real, to make sure you were really here with him. He seemed to be loving the moment, taking every little detail of this moment in.

As you felt his movements become needier and impatient, you found the smallest bit of courage in you to whimper out. 

“P-Please be gentle, Sir..”

Spencer smiled at your request and nodded slightly.

"I promise to be gentle..." He whispered, the touch of his breath against your skin sending a tingle through your body now. The tip of his tongue moved up to your ear now, and he began to run his tongue around the shell of it in little circles.

"But you've got to understand that I am extremely eager right now.. I want you so bad it hurts, angel.” Spencer said, his voice full of desire as he continued to kiss your neck.

“I-I understand, Sir..” Your shoulder jolts at the feeling of his tongue on your ear, and your skin raises at his words on your skin.

"Good girl..." he replied quietly, before continuing to kiss your neck as he moved down to your shoulders.

"Where... would you like me to start?" Spencer asked softly, his eyes flickering as he looked over your naked body, he had so many plans of his own for you, but this was about you. He’d ruin you later.

“A-Anywhere you want, sir.. You know best.. I want you to take care of me.”

His eyes flashed with a soft, playful smile.

"Well why don't you just lay there and let me take care of you, then, alright?" He whispered into your ear, as his hand began to move down over your base chest. His hands stopped to take your sensitive buds into his fingers, gently twisting them. It made you arch and whimper in a way that almost made his body give out from above you.

"I need to show how much I want you.." Spencer added softly, his voice heavy with passion and the need to protect you.

You nodded and tried to relax your body, feeling all too tense in this moment despite how much you wanted him to.

He smiled as he felt your body relax under his touch, as his hand moved over your breasts.

"Relax... You're perfect. You're perfect for me.. And I'm going to treat you like it." Spencer whispered softly, before his hand began to move down to your stomach.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this?" He asked, as his hand began to reach your lower stomach. "Or does it make you too hot?" He added, his voice still full of desire.

“I-I like it.. I like it a lot, Sir.” You look down to watch his hand slither down your body, and it makes your body fill with arousal.

"Good," The man replied softly, before his hand lowered further.

"How does this feel?" He asks, his voice a little breathless as he begins to move his hand between your legs, his touch just barely ghosting over your pussy. He was incredibly cautious not to do anything that you didn't want, as he wanted to go slow for you. 

You gasped lightly when you felt his fingers tracing over your cunt and you swallowed back a moan that threatened to shake the house.

“Really.. Really good..”

You were already moaning now, and Spencer couldn't help but laugh a little at it. 

"You really are very sensitive, aren't you?" Spencer replied teasingly. His fingers began to run lightly over your folds, gliding easily through your pussy because of how soaked you were, just from a few fleeting touches and sweet words. 

You can’t help the blush that surfaces on your cheeks at the mention of you being sensitive, and you close your eyes as you try not to let his touch distract you.

“I-I’ve nev-never been touched like this before, Sir. M’sorry.”

"It's alright, beautiful.. I'm just.. testing the waters." Spencer replied softly, smiling as he continued to tease you.

"So, are you ready for more.. or should I wait?" He whispered into your ear, his voice still breathless. "After all, if you're this sensitive now.. I can't imagine how it'll be once I finally get to fuck you." He said, before nibbling on your neck a little.

“Keep going, Sir.. I’m ready..” You slowly spread your legs a little wider, his touch taking over your senses. 

Spencer smiled softly as your legs spread a little for him, and he quickly slipped a finger inside of you. He chuckled softly as he felt you moan and clench in response to his touch.

"That's my girl," Spencer replied quietly, with that same playful smile on him as his hands continued to tease your sensitive cunt.

"You're so sensitive down here, baby.." 

You nodded and bit back a moan. 

“Y-Yeah.. Never even.. touched myself b-before..” And you could practically feel the intensity of his smirk now at your words. You were innocent, never touched before, not even by yourself. You were his completely.

His face lit up at the information that you gave him.. he could tell that it was true, just from the way you reacted to even the smallest touches.. But hearing it out loud like that was something else.

Spencer was so incredibly turned on now, straining against the restricting fabric of his own pants, and he couldn't help but be more enthusiastic now.

"Good girl.. I'll make sure that I do everything exactly right for you." He said softly, before kissing you passionately again. "My beautiful, innocent girl.." He whispered, leaning into you now as his lips moved from your neck and his finger plunged deeper inside of you. "Don't worry, I'll make you feel amazing."

His praise made your body shake with pleasure, and fill with intense arousal you’ve never experienced before. You nod at his words, and surrender yourself to his control.

When he withdraws his finger from you, you’re leaning up on your forearms to watch what he was doing next, and your eyes quickly find his hands where they were pushing down his dress pants, eagerly freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear. 

He was big. And it didn’t surprise you in the slightest, but it did make your breath pick up and your heart stop. As he pulled down his briefs, you could see the way his heavy length sprung out, bobbing slightly in the warm air between you two.

You bit your lip and a moan died down in your throat at the sight. You don’t know how he’d fit it, but he’d manage, somehow. 

When he was back to leaning over your trembling frame, Spencer's hand began to trail up your thigh again, as his lips pressed sweet kisses on your neck, leaving little red marks each time his teeth bit down.

"I've never been this turned on in my life." Spencer whispered softly, before pulling away from you to look into your eyes. One of his hands reached down to stroke over his dick, and he moaned in your face at the feeling of finally being touched, even if it was by himself. 

"Are you still doing okay?" He added quietly when he regained his control, and grabbed himself by the base of his cock. You could feel the dripping head of it pushing against your sticky folds, and the feeling made you dizzy. 

“Yes, sir..” Was all you could manage, as your needy cunt clenched around nothing. You were practically begging to be filled, despite your earlier nervousness. You knew he’d take care of you. 

Spencer smiled at you and lined himself up the best he could on shaking legs.

"You're so cute..." He whispered softly, as his hips began to move gently forward, making his cock trace lightly over your pussy.

"Just stay still..." He added, looking into your eyes again as his length began to slowly slide into your soaked hole. 

His head dipped down to your shoulder and he let out a loud groan, and the sound alone made you whimper. But aside from his own noises, the feeling of his cock stretching into you made your eyes roll back into your head, it felt too good to be true, and you’re glad you waited for him to be the one to finally fuck you. You threw your head back gently on the bed and let him use you.

"That's it... let me take care of you, love." Spencer said quietly, pushing himself further into you. He wanted to take his time with you, he never wanted you to feel forced into this, and he wanted his every touch to make you feel amazing. 

"Does that feel good, baby?" He whispered softly, as he was fully sheathed into you. The way you pulsed around him, and the way he could see your arousal coating his cock left him breathless, but he had to stay composed, for you. 

“So good, sir..” Your thighs shake and try to close from the overwhelming pleasure, but with him slotted between your legs, it’s an impossible feat. You opt for wrapping your legs around him instead, urging him even deeper into you.

"Good.." Spencer said softly. "Just let it happen.. I know it's a lot right now, but I swear, it's going to feel amazing." 

He added quietly, as he started to shallowly thrust into you, drunk on the way you’re swallowing him up so eagerly, even if this was your first time. You feel so good around him it’s making him dizzy, but you’re not doing any better than he is. 

The sensation is so new, but you’ve never felt anything better. He’s slowly pulling his cock out of your, and then pushing back in, and it’s a rhythm you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of. You give an experimental clench of your cunt around him, and his arms almost give out from above you at the feeling. He sighs and shakes his head. 

"You're an angel." He murmured softly after a few more seconds. "I don't deserve you."

You shake your head the best you can and try not to moan.

“N-No.. I don’t deserve you..”

Spencer smiled softly down you as his the speed of his thrusts begin to pick up, and he starts to fuck into you deeper, harder. His long hair falling down and covering his face. 

"Maybe we just deserve each other.." He offered quietly. "We seem to make each other so happy.." He said softly, before kissing you on the forehead and smiling. 

"Well, you sure didn’t deserve to have to wait this long before a man makes you feel like this."

He added with a slight chuckle, as his cock fucked deeper into you now, pounding into that sweet spot that you didn’t even know existed until now, but with how he was pressing into it so deliciously, it made you shudder and writhe around him.

He was plowing into just the right spot to make you feel so much bliss that you could practically see the stars right in front of you.

Spencer smiled at you as you started to moan and whimper out louder for him, and he couldn't help but enjoy the power of making you feel so good.

"See how good that is?..I knew you'd like it, baby." Spencer said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before panting against it. "I know how to treat you properly.. Don’t I?” 

You couldn’t say anything in reply to him, how could you? The way he was making you feel was like nothing you’ve ever felt, and it was wrecking you.

Spencer smiled softly, as he could tell that you were on a completely different planet right now. He was proud of himself for being the one to cause that reaction in you, and he was clearly loving all the control he had in the situation right now. He wanted to keep you here with him like this at this moment forever.

"Are you enjoying this, honey?" He asked softly, before speeding up the cant of his hips, slapping the skin of his pelvis into the sticky flesh of your pussy and soaked thighs. 

“Y-Yes, sir.. Fuck..” Your body trembles and your head thrashes at his pleasurable touch, and you could feel the coil inside of you wind tighter and tighter, you didn’t know what was happening, all you knew was that it felt so so good.

Spencer laughed, the moment made too perfect to be upset at your wording. 

"You need to watch your language when talking to me.. I mean it." He said teasingly, but he also seemed genuinely amused by the slip.

"But you're enjoying this so much, aren't you? How does it feel... being a little dirty girl with me?" 

The degradation. It was new to you.. This all was, and you feel that you shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you did. You always wanted to please him, do good for him, and make him proud.. But yet it felt amazing hearing him call you that in such a condescending tone. 

You shake your head at your slip up and try to push that thought to the side. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir..” You moan out. “Feels so good..”

"I know.. I know, angel.. it's hard to think straight when you feel this good, isn't it?" Spencer teased quietly, his voice full of adoration and cockiness for being the one to make you feel like this.

You nod without another word, and feel your release approaching quickly. Both from the way he was humping into you and also from the condescending yet gentle tone he’s speaking to you with. It was all too much, and yet not enough. You needed him so badly. 

"You're getting so close, aren't you?" Spencer asked teasingly, before adding, "And you know what that means, right?" He asked, his voice going lower and lower as you reached your breaking point.

You shook your head, you’ve never felt this way before, it was overtaking all of your senses. You clenched around him in a panic to somehow halt the quick approaching feeling you were experiencing, and it only served to add onto it. 

“N-No, sir..”

"Well, you're about to find out, beautiful..." Spencer replied softly, before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "You have to trust me now... okay?"

He rammed his length deeper into you now, and made it a point to slam into that sweet spot inside of you everytime he buried himself in you. His own release was approaching, but he needed you to finish first. This was all about you. 

Then, with a final burst of energy, he pressed his cock impossibly deeper inside of you, kissing your cervix with the tip of his dick, as the moment you've been frantically awaiting for seemed finally upon you.

“I- Oh.. Oh my- S-Sir..” You let out a series of moans, whimpers, and whines as you were brought closer and closer to your peak. You had no idea what this feeling was, but you knew you didn’t want it to stop, not now, you were so so close.

"That's it... let it out for me.." Spencer replied quietly as he leaned away from you and grabbed you forcefully by your hips to fuck into you mercilessly, as if you were a doll to him. 

He knew exactly what he was doing to you and wanted you to fully let yourself get carried away in this moment, he had already reached the point of no return, and you could feel it in the way he lifted you from the bed and plowed into you. 

"You're almost there, beautiful..." He moaned softly. "Just one.. big.. release for me.. You can do it, princess."

And with a final, passionate blow to your weeping cunt, you throw your head back in a borderline scream at how good it all felt. Your body felt like it was on fire as you exploded by his touch. Your head thrashed and and your mind was spinning from how good it all felt. Nonstop moans poured from your mouth as you were finally pushed over the edge.

"There we go, baby.." Spencer said quietly as you squeezed around him so tight he could barely move, and it made him so fucking hard. As he watched you shake through your release, he began to fuck into you even harder now, finally able to use your body for everything it was worth as he felt the deep pit in his stomach grow larger and larger with each heavy drag he dealt to your used pussy. 

“God, baby.. So so good..”

His movements became erratic as his own peak was quickly creeping up on him, and he looked up at you with heavy eyes as he felt himself get so lost in the pleasure he could barely hold himself up. 

You looked back down to him and even though you were reaching the point of overstimulation, the feeling of him using you was too good to deny. And you could feel the primal instinct taking over him as he fucked you harder and harder with each passing second, it was getting too much for him, and his head hung against your shoulder as breathy moans left his mouth. 

“W-Wanna give you another, sir. Please.” 

Spencer’s head whipped up to look at you, and his eyes were wider than you’ve ever seen them, it almost made you laugh. You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and bite your lip. 

“W-What..?”

He’s breathless, but his cock doesn’t falter at all inside of you, it only speeds up at the implication in your words. You don’t say anything else, you just nod and stare at him with want and desperation swirling in your eyes. 

“Oh my god.. Oh my god..” 

Spencer repeats over and over as he lets himself go, and grips at your hips in a bruising hold as he shoots ribbons of his heavy load inside of you. Both of your mouths drop in unison at the sensation, and you whimper at the feeling of his scorching cum painting your slick walls. 

“S-Sir..” 

Is all you can grit out, and your fingernails find their way to his back, pulling makeshift daggers down his skin as he continues to smash his length in your aching, soaked hole. His body collapses down against yours, as he jolts and spasms with every spurt of release he dumps into you. 

He’s so unbelievably buried deep inside of you right now, that there was no doubt that you would give him another child. You could already feel his release seeping into you, claiming you as his forever. 

Through heavy pants and on shaking arms, he lifts himself slightly to look at you. The both of you looked positively ruined by the other, and he pressed a light kiss on your sweaty cheek. 

“Y-You.. You’re insane, sweetheart..” 

You breathlessly chuckled at his words, and pulled him back down so he was laying on your chest. Your body was trembling underneath him, and you could feel your slick and his cum leaking out of you onto the bed sheets. With enough consciousness to speak, you softly sigh. 

“Do I at least get to pick the name?”

[reads4reid]

Omg please more Professor!spencer x innocent!reader where he‘s super jealous and possessive like aahhhh

➥ ofc ofc, hope you like the scenario, please include one next time! Thank you for requesting~

❥ Professor!Spencer gets jealous when he see's guys flirting with you in class

"Can't believe what you did." It was Spencer he had been edging you for what seemed like hours now, slowly guiding your hips up and down as you straddled him in his office chair. A shiver runs down your spine as he pinches you nipple, twisting it and adding to your stimulation.

"I-I don't understand, what did I do?" You were delirious with pleasure, trying your best not whimper every time he hit your sweet spot.

"They were flirting with you baby, my entire class. And instead of looking at me you were talking to them." He was referring to the two new students who'd so obviously decided to sit next to you because of your cuteness. Asking questions every five minutes of his lecture and not-so subtly glancing at your over-exposed chest.

"S'not my fault!" You place your head in the crook of his neck. "Th-they needed help, was just trying to be a good classmate."

He knows this, he knows he's acting without rationale but the thought of anyone looking at you the way he does. Unimaginable. Especially because you'd been wearing the top he bought you so he could stare at your tits all class long, overly exposed and oblivious as ever, it really wasn't your fault. But he couldn't help himself.

He begins moving you faster up and down his aching cock, "You belong to me baby. You understand? You're Mine."

"M'yours professor, all yours!" Your blabbering turns into moans of how good he feels as you ask for permission to cum, letting go and falling into sweet escatsy.

The meer notion that he had fucked his innocent baby dumb has him releasing into you, all the while whispering sweet praises that only add to your pleasure.

[reads4reid]

Growing Pains (S.R.)

Summary: When Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry, he didn’t realize how difficult it would be when he confronted his wife… and learned it didn’t belong to her, either. It belonged to their daughter. Request: reader and Spencer are happily married and have a 16-year daughter. She has a new boyfriend (her first boyfriend) and her parents are worried. They meet the boyfriend. A/N: Who doesn't love a little Dad!Spencer? Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Domestic Fluff (16+) Content Warning: Awkwardness, father & daughter relationship, protective Dad Spencer, lingerie, meeting the parents, firearms mention, Spencer finds his daughter’s lingerie and thinks his wife is cheating on him, it’s hard to explain, mentions of sexual themes, innocent kissing Word Count: 3.7k

There is something so mundane yet so serene about suburban life. That idyllic air that carried small bits of freshly mown grass and children’s laughter. That wasn’t to say that my life was uneventful, however.

After all, it would be nearly impossible to have a boring life while married to Spencer Reid.

But it was rare for me to feel any level of discomfort as I patrolled familiar halls. Mild annoyance, maybe, but never before had I felt such a sense of foreboding.

Not until that fateful day where I arrived home from errands to find that the clean laundry has already been pulled from the dryer. That in itself wasn’t bad—I was more than happy to let someone else do the folding—yet when I walked up the stairs, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

“Spencer?” I called.

“In here,” he answered without his normal enthusiasm.

Now that was unnerving.

The situation only got worse when I did finally open the door to find him awkwardly pacing around the room. My attention followed him back and forth a couple times before he came to a sudden stop.

“Hi honey,” I offered as gently as I could, “What’s up?”

“Hi,” he replied, still dejected and distant. He didn’t come any closer to me before he began fiddling with his fingers.

After a tense moment of silence, I asked again, more directly, “Are you alright, Spencer?”

“I have something very difficult to discuss with you, and I-I just want to ask for you to be patient with me.”

My heart sunk at the realization that the sense of foreboding was coming from him. The muscles straight up stopped beating, turned to rocks, and tumbled into my stomach.

I shook my head to try to stave off the stupor associated with shock.

“What are you talking about?” I asked because I needed to know just how much my simple suburban life was about to change.

Was he cheating on me? Was he going back to prison? Were their federal agents standing outside, ready to tear our family from our home?

When he finally began to speak, however, it was far from a satisfying explanation.

“I know I’m not always the best husband, and I know I can be absent and that the stress of the job and the kids and the state of the entire world, really, can get in the way of our time together,” he said with an increasing tempo.

“Spencer,” I said as a beg and a warning, “Just say it.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he pleaded back, “Please, just…”

I could feel my pulse in every extremity. My skin burned with blood and my lungs cried out for oxygen.

“I know you, I do,” he assured me before he continued, “and I know this sounds so unbelievably horrible for me to even accuse you of something like this, but…”

Me?

In that terrifying silence, I ran through our lifetime of memories to try to find something I might have done wrong. But no matter how hard I searched, I found nothing that might make him want to leave me like this.

Unless…

And then he said it.

“Are you… cheating on me?”

So quickly, my fear shifted to white-hot rage that came out of my mouth so ungracefully that I nearly knocked the lamp off the bedside table in my confusion.

“What?! No!” I shrieked, “Oh my god, what made you think that?!”

At first, Spencer relaxed. The veracity of my answer had been convincing because it had been true. But Spencer, clearly still concerned that I was somehow an award-worthy actress, continued to wring his hands together throughout his poorly planned confrontation.

“I, um… I found… lingerie. In the laundry,” he said with a tilted timbre. “And I know I’ve never seen it on you before, and I also know it wasn’t new.”

The busy blood in my veins immediately knew to cower. Before it had even struck me how utterly fucked I was, I was practically trembling with concern.

Spencer saw the fear, and instead of realizing it was about what he had no way of knowing, he interpreted it as a different kind of admission.

“So, whose is it?” he asked.

Stepping towards the bed, I motioned for him to take a seat. When he didn’t? I urged him, “Honey, sit down.”

“… Oh,” he muttered before practically collapsing on the bed.

Slightly annoyed by the dramatics, I rolled my eyes and sighed before I explained, “No, not that.”

He didn’t believe me, so I sighed again.

“Spencer, I am not cheating on you.”

That time, he sighed. I let him enjoy the brief reprieve before I threw him headlong into the worst kind of turmoil.

“What you found… isn’t mine,” I stated very clearly.

“But—?”

“It belongs to our daughter.”

The room fell silent. I watched as the realization dawned on him. Slowly, his glazed over eyes began to reflect the harrowing reality.

Then, all at once, his entire world came to a devastating end. Jumping up from his seat on the bed, Spencer grabbed his head and yelled in utter disbelief.

“What?!”

“Spencer, calm down,” I tried.

It didn’t work.

“What do you—she’s only 16! What do you mean it’s her—?!”

I watched from the sidelines as his brain short circuited. He tried to pace, but ended up just trapped in the same spot with flailing arms and wild hair.

Eventually, he settled on the question that had made me so nervous in the first place.

“Where did she even get it from?!”

“I bought it for her,” I said.

The fight left his body immediately. Spencer fell back on the bed and buried his face in his hands with a dramatic groan.

I sighed, again.

I was fully prepared to let him wallow in the grief of his daughter’s childhood, too. But then he had to go and say something silly again.

“Oh my god, I wish you had been cheating on me,” he strained, “That would have been so much easier than this.”

“Spencer!”

“I’m sorry!” he conceded immediately, “I didn’t mean it. I love you, I’m glad you aren’t cheating on me.”

Despite his well-intentioned apology, he remained inconsolable. I thought about giving him a moment to spiral, but I also knew that this was a bandaid that had practically fused into his skin.

At a certain point, it just became necessary for us to discuss it—with or without the dramatics.

“I know this is upsetting for you, but our daughter is almost a grown woman,” I explained to my pitiful husband who continued to make sounds of general protest. “I don’t want her to think of her body as anything less than something worth feeling good about.”

Finally popping up from behind his hands, he returned a bitter laugh.

“Okay, but is she doing it to make herself feel good, or to please some piece of shit asshole quarterback?” he spat.

He didn’t appreciate the way it made me laugh, but I couldn’t help it. It was a ridiculous notion and he deserved to be mocked for it. 

“Spencer, your daughter would not be interested in a quarterback.”

He knew I was right, but in typical Spencer fashion, he refused to admit it.

Instead, he just huffed, “How would I know?!”

But I knew he would, eventually, respond to reason, so I didn’t relent no matter how much he begged me to.

“Sex shouldn’t be a scary thing for a teenage girl! I wanted her to know she can feel comfortable telling me things. Like if she needs condoms or the pill or, heaven forbid—!”

“Oh my god, please stop,” he groaned, “Just, give me a second, please!”

I allowed him the moment because I knew he needed it.

Sure enough, after a couple seconds of reflection and a few deep breaths, Spencer returned to his normal eccentricity. He even managed to chuckle to himself a little bit, although I’m sure he’d still felt his dramatics were justified.

He didn’t protest when I took a seat beside him on the bed. In fact, he was quick to lean on me.

I wrapped my arms around him and tried to stifle my laughter at how downtrodden he’d become. My hand smoothed over his hand and I tried to offer him reassurance that everything would be alright if our daughter grew up.

“Oh, honey, nothing has changed. She’s still our baby girl,” I reminded him.

“I know,” he sighed. Then, through laughter he muttered, “It was just a lot for me to go from thinking you secretly hated me to our daughter wearing lingerie, alright? It’s a lot.”

He buried his face against my shoulder and took another deep breath before he held me back. The simple gesture reminded me just how much he’d probably been through in past hour. Of course, it had all been self-inflicted and based on comical perceptions. But it was a lot, and I always loved the chance to comfort him.

We sat like that for a while. We sat with the knowledge that we’d made it this far. There was something special about this fear, because it meant that we had done at least a few things right.

That didn’t really help assuage any of the fears for the future, however. 

“Is she having sex?” he asked.

I wished I had a better answer.

“I don’t know,” I admitted with an exhausted groan, “My plan didn’t work. She won’t tell me anything.”

“What do we do?”

It was a question I’d spent hours pondering only to end on the same-old, unsatisfying answer.

“I guess we just… wait until she’s ready to tell us about her boyfriend.”

Silently, Spencer lifted his head and turned to me. The foreboding returned with a vengeance, but this time, I was prepared for the question to follow.

“… her what?”

I’d always heard people say that domestic suburban life could be hell on earth. I’d always shrugged it off, convinced that I had figured out the impossible and remained happily in love with my wife and the proud father of a very well-adjusted daughter.

But as I stood in my bedroom, bereft of even the basic will to live while my beautiful, loving wife fixed my tie, I realized that they had been right.

Fatherhood was hell, and my wife was the devil’s favorite accomplice.

On any other occasion, her preening would have me melting between deft fingers. In that moment, however, I felt nothing but disdain at her attention to detail.

Because she was not doing it for my benefit. She was doing it so that my disheveled appearance wouldn’t upset another man. A cruel man who sought to steal away the brightest light of my life.

That night I had to meet my daughter’s very first boyfriend.

“Are you ready?” my wife asked.

“No, you took away my gun,” I replied with the utmost sincerity.

Clever eyes darted up to mine before she laughed. The sound brought me little comfort. I tried to be upset at how she took joy in my suffering, but my lips turned to a pout before a frown.

“Yes, you’re very scary, dear,” she hummed.

Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to mine. Perfectly painted lips felt different but still tasted sweet.

Those damned fingers smoothed over my shoulders until stern muscles relaxed once more.

Eventually they crept up and cupped my jaw. Gently—at first.

So quickly they turned brutal, pressing hard enough on my cheeks to force another pout from tired lips.

“He’s a sweet boy and you’re going to be nice to him, alright?” she warned.

If she hadn’t been squeezing me so tightly, she would’ve seen me smile.

“We’ll see about that,” I deadpanned.

Again, she laughed, and that time, it brought me all the comfort I could ever need.

That darling devil of a woman stole one more kiss before she whispered, “Good enough.”

For a moment, it was. But then the doorbell rang and, despite all her efforts to lift up a heavy heart, it still plummeted to my stomach at the sound.

So quickly, my favorite girls had fled towards the door and left me frozen in the lurch. My hands and feet felt numb as my heart tried to reason with a stubborn mind.

There were some things a father had to eventually face.

My little girl was growing up, and my bad knee probably wouldn’t survive the jump out of a second story window.

There was only one way out of this. I had to go through it all.

I could hear their voices, so full of joy and love that it made me ache at the thought of losing half of it.

But deep down, I knew that I risked losing her regardless of how much I resisted the boy she’d chosen.

So, eventually, I managed to shuffle stubborn feet down the hall and towards the living room.

Somewhat to my surprise, the boy’s presence was hardly noted. In fact, if my wife hadn’t been making such a fuss about the bouquet he’d handed her, I might have even missed him.

We locked eyes from across the room. The poor boy’s muscles seized in an instant. His shoulders crept towards his ears and he lost the battle of keeping his eyes on me.

There was a distant, fleeting feeling at the sight. Something not easily described, which made my palms sweaty.

My eyes almost fell to the floor, too, but they were stopped by the sight of my daughter. Seemingly unaware of my gaze, she’d thrown her arms around the boy the first moment that she could.

Again, my heart ached with a confounding feeling. With narrowed eyes and a fast-beating heart, I struggled to place it.

Thankfully, my wife was quick to interrupt before the two had caught me staring.

Before she called us all to dinner, though, I spotted that same wistful twinkling in her eye. She had simply been better at hiding it than me.

For that same reason, I let her take charge. I sat almost silent, successfully biting my tongue to save my daughter from the embarrassment of my unbridled enthusiasm.

Of course, her pride hadn’t been the only reason that I’d hardly spoken. There had been a couple more selfish desires.

The first was my unwaning concern about any boy who’d so much as looked at my daughter. However unlikely it might have been, I had to be certain that this boy was as harmless as he seemed.

My mind began running a million scenarios of increasing horror. Yet right before the fateful final moment, the theoretical fell flat.

There was, to my relief, almost nothing disconcerting about the boy.

Almost.

There was still… that funny feeling.

“Dr. Reid?”

The sound of a familiar moniker in an unfamiliar place—from an increasingly familiar voice.

“Hm?” I answered the boy.

“I hope it doesn’t sound rude, but I looked you up before I came,” he said with the telltale crackling of a nervous teenage boy.

“I don’t think it’s rude,” I said.

That’s what I would have done, was the unspoken realization.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he laughed.

My wife and daughter stifled a chuckle as they exchanged a secret set of glances that I didn’t understand.

“Your writing is way more advanced than my reading level,” the boy continued, “but I did try to read some of them. Your philosophy papers seemed so…”

He struggled to find the next word. His face twisted between a smile and something similar to a flinch. I recognized the hesitance like a mirror to the past.

“Would… hopeful be the right word?” he asked.

“Yes!” I shouted, to my own surprise.

And that boy’s face lit up like a properly screwed lightbulb from one of my very poorly received philosophy jokes.

I had become so excited by the prospect of being understood—for once—by someone so young and green that I could hardly contain my excitement.

“Which paper did you—?”

I cut myself off when I heard a soft sigh from the boy’s side.

At first, I’d thought that it was my daughter trying to warn me of my first social faux pas of the evening. But I was instead pleasantly surprised to find her contented smile. Although, it was aimed at someone else.

“No, please,” the boy beamed, “I want to hear about all of them.”

I contained the buzzing in my fingertips that tapped against the table. I turned to my wife  for permission, but her slight nod didn’t provide me the confidence to continue.

It wasn’t enough until my daughter blurted out, “Go ahead, dad. I know what I signed up for.”

What confounding words to be uttered so simply. I didn’t dare question them then.

Instead, I answered his question. I spoke at length and about anything he could remember. To my surprise, the conversation wasn’t nearly as one or two sided as I’d expected.

By my daughters third question, I was forced to accept that she really had been listening to me all those years while staring down at her phone.

My wife had been the quietest person at the table. The whole dinner, she just seemed to lean back and admire the scene before her. But behind each sip from her glass, I spotted a cheeky smile that appeared alongside that wistful distance in her eyes.

I decided I would ask her later what she saw.

Later came sooner than expected, however. The summer sun had long since set when an unfamiliar phone dinged.

“Oh, sorry, it’s my mom,” the boy muttered. There was a brief disappointment that seemed to dissipate the moment he read the message. “I should really get going, anyway. I don’t want to take up your whole night with my curiosity.”

“He really would talk forever if you let him,” my daughter said under her breath.

I assumed it had been a comment about me.

I was wrong.

“It’s just not very often I get to ask a philosopher for his thoughts, okay?” he chuckled.

He must’ve felt my dumbstruck staring, however, because he stopped himself. He straightened his back the best he could but his hand still trembled when he reached out to me to shake it.

“It really was nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” he offered.

I was too frozen by the shock of how many mistaken assumptions I’d made in such a short period of time to respond. I glanced down at his hand and recalled a time where I was adamant that I wouldn’t shake a strangers hand.

That hadn’t been true anymore (thanks to my very supportive wife and therapist), but my daughter still recognized the ghost of hesitance.

One stern look from her made me spring into action.

His hand was warm and softer than mine. The only calluses were caused by a firm grip on a pencil rather than a gun. There was nothing worrisome about the way he tried to follow every instruction manual for handshaking.

He was, as my wife had put it, a sweet boy.

“It was very nice to meet you, too,” I returned. Then, knowing how much it would mean to them both, I smiled as I added, “I look forward to next time.”

Their responses were everything I had predicted, and it was entirely worth whatever germs might have been transferred.

The moment I turned my attention away from them, I watched from the corner of my eye as they excitedly squeezed each others hands until their whole bodies were bouncing.

“I’ll walk you to your car!” my not-so-little girl shouted.

It was less walking and more dragging until he managed to catch up to her.

The sight tugged once more at my heart. That strange feeling crept forward again and I tried to find its name as the front door clicked shut.

My wife swiftly ended the thought, however, by grabbing my hand and taking off towards the stairs.

“Come on!” she half-whispered between her tugging and my stumbling.

“Where are we going?!”

“We’re going to spy on them!” she now fully yelled, “Hurry up!”

In a fit of laughter and with our hands never breaking apart, we did just that. We booked it up to the master bedroom and—with the lights still off—my wife’s clever fingers pried apart the blinds just enough for us to peer through them.

The suburban summer night was almost quiet enough to hear them make their inevitably awkward goodbyes. The soft glow of carefully placed streetlights painted my daughter in an even more beautiful light, and I could tell the boy in front of her appreciated it for everything that it was.

Yet he turned away from her first, with his hand lingering in hers.

Somehow, I knew what would happen before it did. Sure enough, my daughter refused to let go. She used that hesitance to leave and pulled him right back to her and straight into a quick, chaste kiss.

And that was when I realized what that feeling had been. That lurid memory, the subtle glowing of my heart, was the familiarity of it all.

The scene unfolded like a home movie ripped straight from my memory.

In perfect synchrony with that epiphany, my wife released a dreamy sigh.

“Do you remember when that was us?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I laughed, “I do.”

I remembered it all with perfect clarity, despite how far away it had fallen. I dragged the memories back up with the same insistence that my wife had used to bring me to that moment.

I remembered the butterflies in my stomach and the anxiety of knowing that I was madly in love with a woman that was much too good for me. I also remembered how it felt to clamor back into my car and have to drive away from her with the taste of transferred lipgloss on my lips.

As the boy drove away, I felt a wave of relief ushered on by my wife’s comforting embrace.

“I think they’re going to be okay,” she whispered.

“Yeah. Me too,” I agreed.

We’d seen it happen before.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my CM Father's Day Rec List here! It has SFW and NSFW categories.

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @red-shirt-reid , @princessamanda2022

Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

[reads4reid]

Misunderstanding

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Your playful flirting with Derek is all in good fun, but Spencer misunderstands the situation and becomes jealous. You are oblivious to Spencer's feelings and continues to flirt with Derek, leading to a misunderstanding that threatens to damage your relationship.

Warnings: just some flirty stuff

WC: 1.379

You've been friends with Spencer for years, and you've always had a playful dynamic. You enjoy teasing each other, making jokes, and generally having a good time together.

You and Spencer are at a party, and you notice that he's been eyeing a particular person across the room. You nudge him playfully and whisper, "Looks like someone's got a crush."

Spencer blushes slightly but doesn't deny it. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," he says coyly. "But at least I have better taste than you."

You both laugh and continue to tease each other, with you jokingly calling him a "hopeless romantic" and Spencer teasing you about your questionable dating choices.

It's a moment of lighthearted teasing that shows how comfortable you both are with each other. You know that you can poke fun at each other without any hurt feelings, and it only serves to reinforce the strong bond you share as friends.

Lately, though, you've started to notice a shift in Spencer's behavior. He seems to be more distant than usual, and when you try to flirt with him, he doesn't seem as receptive as he used to be.

One evening, you're hanging out together at your favorite bar when you start flirting with Spencer. You lean in close, batting your eyelashes and twirling a strand of hair around your finger. But instead of responding with his usual witty banter, Spencer just looks uncomfortable.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you ask, sensing that something is off.

Spencer hesitates for a moment before responding. "I don't know, I guess I'm just not really in the mood for this kind of thing right now," he says, avoiding your gaze.

You feel a pang of disappointment, but you know that you need to respect Spencer's boundaries. You back off on the flirting and the two of you continue to hang out, but there's a tension between you that wasn't there before.

One of those moments of awkwardness and uncertainty that highlights the importance of respecting your friend's boundaries, even if it means dialing back the flirtation were now daily basis. You know that your friendship with Spencer is more important than any momentary spark of attraction, and you're willing to adjust your behavior accordingly.

So, you've turned your attention to Derek, a mutual friend who is always up for some harmless flirting. You've been sending him playful texts and making suggestive comments, but it's all in good fun. You don't have any romantic feelings for Derek, and you don't think he has any for you, either.

You and Derek have been texting back and forth all day, joking and teasing each other in your usual playful manner. You're both at work, but that hasn't stopped you from engaging in some lighthearted banter.

"I can't believe you're still at the office," you text him. "You must really love your job."

Derek responds quickly. "Nah, just trying to impress my favorite coworker."

You roll your eyes, but can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Oh, please. I know I'm your only coworker on this case."

Derek sends back a string of laughing emojis, and then follows it up with a more serious message. "Seriously though, I'm glad we work together. You make this place a lot more enjoyable."

You feel a warm flush spread through you at his words, but you shake it off. You and Derek are just friends, after all. There's no need to read too much into his comments.

"Likewise," you respond, adding a winking emoji for good measure. "Just don't tell the boss I'm your favorite. I don't want to get in trouble."

You continue texting back and forth, the conversation never veering into anything inappropriate or suggestive. It's just a fun and friendly exchange between two people who enjoy each other's company.

One evening, you and Derek are at a party together, and as the night goes on, you find yourselves standing close to each other and engaging in playful banter.

"So, Derek," you say, batting your eyelashes, "do you work out? You're looking awfully fit tonight."

Derek grins, obviously enjoying the attention. "I do, actually. Gotta keep up my physique for all those girls who are always chasing after me."

You roll your eyes, not buying it for a second. "Please, like any girl could resist your charm. I'm surprised you're even talking to me right now."

Derek laughs, reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Don't be ridiculous. You know you're one of my favorite people to hang out with."

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, but you push it aside. You know that you and Derek are just friends, and that this playful banter is all in good fun.

The two of you continue chatting, the conversation never straying into anything inappropriate or suggestive. It's just a lighthearted and enjoyable evening spent with a good friend.

Unfortunately, Spencer doesn't see it that way. He's been keeping an eye on your interactions with Derek, and he's become increasingly jealous. He thinks that you're interested in Derek and that you're trying to make him jealous.

You have no idea that Spencer feels this way. You assume that he knows you well enough to understand that your flirting with Derek is just a way to pass the time. You never intended to hurt Spencer's feelings, and you're completely oblivious to the fact that you're doing so.

One day, as you're scrolling through your phone, Spencer comes up to you looking visibly upset. He asks to talk to you in private, and you both move to a quieter area. You can tell that something is bothering him, but you don't know what it could be.

Spencer starts off by saying that he needs to talk to you about something that's been on his mind for a while. You can sense that he's nervous and unsure about how to approach the topic. He takes a deep breath and says, "I need to talk to you about Derek."

"I've been noticing the way you've been flirting with Derek lately, and it's been bothering me," Spencer says, his voice low and tense. "I feel like you're leading him on, and it's not fair to him or to me."

You're caught off guard by his accusations and feel a pang of guilt. Just as you're about to explain your intentions, Derek interjects. "Hey, man, I don't think it's that deep. We're just having fun," he says, trying to diffuse the tension.

But Reid shuts him off, "Stay out of this, Derek. This is between me and her," he says firmly before turning back to you. "I don't think it's harmless at all. I think you're trying to make me jealous, and it's working," he says, his voice rising with frustration.

The situation quickly spirals out of control. You and Spencer start arguing, and things get heated. "I can't believe you don't trust me," you say, feeling frustrated and hurt. "I would never intentionally hurt you like that."

But Spencer is hurt too. "It's not just about trust. It's about the way you're treating me," he says, his voice cracking with emotion. "I thought we had something special, but it seems like you're more interested in flirting with Derek."

The more you try to explain yourself, the more he pushes back, and it seems like your friendship is on the brink of collapse. "I don't understand why you're so jealous," you say, exasperated. "You know I don't have any romantic feelings for Derek."

Finally, out of frustration, you both confess your true feelings. "I think the real issue here is that we both have feelings for each other," Spencer says, his voice softening.

You're shocked by his admission, but also relieved. "I've been feeling the same way," you say, a smile spreading across your face.

Eventually, though, you're able to work things out. You sit down and have a heart-to-heart conversation, and you both realize that there was a huge misunderstanding. Spencer was interpreting your flirting with Derek in a completely different way than you intended, and you had no idea that he was feeling jealous and hurt. But now that you've both been honest with each other, you're able to move forward and strengthen your relationship.

[reads4reid]

hiii love, I just started the season with linda barnes and I'm just thinking about the sheer amount of rants she'd earn from spencer

him helping you make dinner while just jumping between little fits of fury and with him being such a hand gesture guy he would end up spilling everything and making such a mess in the process

empathy with his struggle could only go so far until you're giggling and calling him cute for getting so worked up while also promising him that things would get better

fucking linda!!! she was so unnecessary!!

“and she’s talking about splitting us and making me a full time teacher! baby she can’t do this!”

he’s out of breath by the time he’s finished rambling and his hands are tugging harshly at his hair in frustration.

“spence,” you coo, unwinding his fingers from his hair and taking his hands in yours.

“baby, she can’t. we’re a family.”

you kiss his forehead. “it’ll all work out spence, it always does. emily is in charge and she’s not going to just let some woman come in and try to break up your unit.”

he sighs and presses his face into your stomach. “i just, i don’t want to teach. i want to help in the field.”

“i know my love, and you will. you just have to let her run her course. so many others have tried to cut your team in half and stop the bau altogether and no one succeeded.”

spencer grumbles.

“what’s the probability that linda barnes makes it happen?”

he mutters a small figure and you smile.

“exactly, pretty ricky. now stop all this worrying, promise it’ll be okay.”

[reads4reid]

spence x clingy!reader where reader just loses it and kisses him then it gets a little ✨spicy✨ and some sort of makeout scene but no smut if that makes sense tysm bae <33

ah ofc ofc, thanks for the request, and yw bae <3

Today is Saturday's are for Spencer :) request an au!

Spencer couldn't deny that he adored how clingy you were, always beside him offering food, cuddles, kisses, anything he could ever possibly need. He like being doted on, and he tried to return the favor we he could.

You were currently seated on his lap, legs parted on each side of his hips as he read his book over your shoulder. It was often you ended up in this position, due to your constant need for physical touch.

"Spencer." you pout your pink lips as you withdraw your head off his shoulder. He hums, still absorbed in the novel he's reading. "Spencer." you were getting impatient having already tried to get his attention multiple times before.

Most likely sensing this agitation he finally puts his book down, marking his page by bending the corner. "Yes, baby?"

You smile at the nickname, "Tell me 'bout your book." You needed a distraction, and he was the best at giving you something to be distracted by, whether that was his adorable face or his eloquent words.

He smiles delightfully, beginning to explain his reading material while simultaneously drawing soothing circles at your waist.

"Well its a pretty interesting story really, its about this archeologists who go out to Egypt and find these hieroglyphics within one of the ancient pyramids. Its based on a true story, though told through a more animated version, giving a resemblance of an Indiana Jones movie. But not the new re-makes, I'm talking the originals- "

You press your lips to his, hard and full of passion, sliding your tongue into his mouth as he gasps in surprise. But you can't help it, something happens to you when he goes on his rambles. Somehow, you don't know how its possible but he becomes even more handsome when he talks.

"Mmhp." he moans into your mouth as you slide your fingers through his messy hair, taking pleasure as he returns your eager kiss.

You come up for air every once and a while, as he explains in between the plot of his book, and you similarly ask more follow up questions.

Happily, you stay like that, enjoying each others small gasps and whines as you essentially make out like lovesick teenagers while continuously carrying out a conversation. When you finally imprint your lipgloss onto his lips, you're satisfied, pulling back to take a look at your work.

Once he catches his breath fully he speaks, "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"f'being you." you answer without hesitation, moving in to peck his swollen lips once more. Sinking into his arms you lose track of time as the afternoon passes you by. Spencer however resumes his reading with a huff of exasperation at your antics, shaking his head and hugging you tighter.