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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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My Love, My Life: Spencer Reid

Summary: you and Spencer going through the motions in the creation of your first daughter

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: so much fluff, pregnancy, unprotected sex, mentions of minor breeding kink, mentioned pregnant sex

(none of the smut is actually written, just mentioned)

Maybe it was the way you looked that sunny afternoon, playing with your niece in the grass outside. Maybe it was your smile. Maybe it was the way you touched your stomach and pouted up at him from where he stood upon the balcony. Maybe it was the way you looked so empty in that summer crop top and low-rise skirt that reached the floor. Maybe it was the way your hair fell in your face when Spencer Reid took you against the bathroom counter at your family reunion before dinner.

You looked so beautiful with the golden light from the window spilling over your face, but there was no time to watch, you both were late for the meal. You pulled your skirt down, fixed up his hair a little, fixed yours, then rushed downstairs to the dining room of your aunt's mansion.

Aunt Maisy was rich, so she was the best possible host for the family reunion. She owned the mansion, equipped with four floors, many bathrooms, access to the beach, a pool, and a vast, green lawn. This was Spencer's first time at the reunion, as you and he had only been married for six months now. The youngest couple there, amongst the old married couples and the thrice-divorced and remarried aunts. He had two weeks off and coincidentally, it collided with the reunion.

The family adored him so far. The younger cousins were baffled to find they were meeting a real FBI agent and insisted on him playing cops and robbers with them. Your niece Posy loved him the most, calling him 'Unca Thenter', causing Spencer to introduce himself as Uncle Reid, to which she ran with 'Unca Weed', and he didn't have the heart to try and help her pronounce it right. That's where the baby fever started to choke him.

At dinner, he answered the questions the women bombarded him with about 'taking down the bad guys', sharing with them twisted tales and telling them about how literature can play into cases really well, then going on about certain books. Nobody even batted an eye at how long he would rant for because they were all so interested.

The men asked him to the nightly poker games, but you had to intervene, telling them not to unless they wanted to lose all their money. They just guffawed until Spencer nodded sheepishly, telling them it was true, which then lead to more laughter.

The air was light in the home. Family together, having fun, catching up. In the moving period from the dinner table to the lawn, everyone cleaned their dishes and then headed outside to go socialize more in the golden hour bliss. You and Spencer were the last out, next to kooky aunt Lydia, who stopped you both. You wrapped your arms around Spencer's waist from the side, watching aunt Lydia wag her finger at you both. "Brace yourself for the next earthquake. The one earlier shattered my mirror and you know, it's bad luck to break a mirror. The gods are coming back for us."

Spencer just looked down at you, cringing. Aunt Lydia had the room next to yours and she was just about as late as you were for dinner. So the sex in the bathroom must have knocked her mirror down. She bustled away, all three of her ponytails bouncing as she went. Whoops, someone would have to tend to that later.

Outside on the lawn, after digesting, the children were at it again. They pulled Spencer away, taking their game of cops and robbers and turning it right into a game about flat-out shooting. You watched Spencer in the golden light, seeing as the children all collectively shot him dead. He pretended to collapse, making for the perfect opportunity for young Posy to jump right onto his chest. He picked her up and spun her around and you just watched, smiling.

"Are you thinking about babies with Dr.FBI, yet, (Y/N)?"

"Oh, they'd make beautiful babies,"

"Skinny babies, though. You better feed them well. Is Spencer okay, darling, does he eat?"

The women descended in another attack. What a coincidence they asked just two hours after you and Spencer had gone at it unprotected. Wow, intuition.

You looked over at Spencer playing with the children. "We've been thinking about it and yes, he's okay and he does eat." Sweet smiles all around, but your eyes only watched Spencer. Around adults, he was nervous and uncomfortable, but when he was playing with the children, he was so natural and sweet. There was no doubt he'd be a great father.

When the sun had set, you and Spencer were curled up together on the outdoor swing around the nightly campfire. The children were all in their beds now, leaving the adults to converse.

You nudged Spencer, "My family loves you more than me." You whispered, pecking his cheek. "Posy invited us for tea in the parlour tomorrow."

Spencer smiled, "I think I have something to do tomorrow." He couldn't be suggestive without a blush, so he pulled out a convenient little planner from his pocket, flipped open to tomorrow's date and there in red ink was the word 'you'.

He was cheeky sometimes, but the bashfulness never left him. You scrunched your nose. "I'll take a celibacy vow until you go to that tea party, Dr.Reid. Watch your step."

"I can- I can move things to tonight," he grinned. But his attention was pulled from you to the rest of the family.

Uncle Don raised a beer, "Hey, Dr.FBI, tell us a case story now that the youngsters have gone off to bed! Give us every detail." Dr.FBI was a nickname that caught on with the family and Spencer never dared to complain. He kind of liked it. You saw that as he began to tell his stories, sharing clues and dots he connected, telling about action and death and fear. The family snatched him away with their questions, somehow turning those case questions into personal questions about him, you, his family, his life, his plans for the future with you.

So when you finally got him alone, it was a lot less talking. Door shut, kissing hard, clothes on the floor, bodies on the bed, laughing, lips between teeth. This time Spencer was clear with his intention to get you pregnant.

"You'll be so pretty," Spencer mumbled against your neck. "So beautiful. I love you so much." He sounded near-drunk.

"I love you too," your head tilted backward and there it was, the end in sight. He worked himself and you to it, then he went to get you water as you lay there, out of breath, hoping Aunt Lydia hadn't heard that too and that her mirror mess was fixed up.

The rest of the week was lovely. You and Spencer walked on the beach, stayed in your room, and had 'tea' with Posy in the parlour. Whatever the little girl had concocted, Spencer drank it and told her it was delicious. Around the nightly campfire, he'd share more stories and the night would end with you two up in your room talking, kissing, and maybe a little more occasionally.

A lot of the nights, sleeping wasn't even intentional. You and Spencer would do so much every day, after a while of calm or... more, you'd both just crash. Spencer was off coffee all week, so he slept well and would wake up happy, too. A break from work and a chance to sleep in was what he was in need of.

Eventually, his break came to an end and leaving Posy was the hardest, but Spencer promised more tea parties on the upcoming holidays and she seemed to cheer up a little. Spencer gave her a huge hug before he left, looking at you with a little bit of genuine sadness.

"She gets to go tell everyone her uncle is in the FBI at show and tell next school year, Spence," you smiled as he shut the trunk. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a loving kiss, wordlessly getting into the car.

After that, it was just waiting. The baby fever lessened for you when he wasn't around children all day, but for him, it was still there. He never brought it up.

"This skirt fit me two weeks ago," you complained, not able to get your high-waisted skirt to sit around your stomach the way it did before. "No more takeout, then..." You sighed, eyeing yourself in the mirror. Spencer actually looked up from his books to see what you were talking about. He noticed the gain around your stomach, but your arms, thighs, and face hadn't taken any new shape, which was odd. Maybe, just maybe, the sex in your room at the mansion had gotten you somewhere.

Spencer didn't have a proper chance to explain what he thought before he was whisked away on another case, but you had a hunch. You took the test in your washroom and when it read 'positive', your heart sped a mile a minute out of fear, joy, and excitement. You may have also taken three more tests to make sure. All of them read positive.

You didn't tell anyone about it. Spencer came home on a Thursday night and you were standing by the door. He didn't have time to shut the door, let alone take a breath before you blurted- test in one hand, other hand on your lower stomach, your voice in a whisper,

"Spence, I'm pregnant."

He nearly collapsed. It took him a full second to actually react, but his knees gave out and you lowered down to his level. His hands frantically touched your stomach, your arm, your face, before he held your jaw and pulled you into a highly passionate kiss that captured the overwhelming happiness he was feeling. "It's-it's not a joke?"

"No, Spence, we're having a baby." You grinned, watching his eyes well up. He told Derek Morgan first, of course. Then you came to work with him so he could officially tell his team.

Emily was baffled Spencer was capable of sex. She had attended your wedding and still somehow saw Spencer as a virgin and staying a virgin until death, but she was so happy to find out. Hotch and Rossi gave him firm pats on the back and Garcia knelt on the floor to talk to your growing fetus. A little weird, but it was Garcia.

"Congrats, my man. At what age do you estimate this kid will get a Ph.D.?" Derek pat Spencer on the back, winking at him before pulling him into a hug. He pulled you into a hug next, whispering into your ear, "I estimate about eight, so watch out."

You just laughed. All was good.

There was something so inherently attractive to Spencer about watching you grow with the child inside of you. Something so hot about knowing he put that there and now you walked around with the evidence you had been fucked by him under your shirt.

At eleven weeks, watching you try to fit into your clothes was too arousing to handle. Something was wrong with him, he knew that, but he handled it, leaving kisses on your cheek, shoulder, chest and bump when he left in the morning for work. He was a young, sweet husband and you missed him all day just as he missed you.

You teased when he came home because you did see the way he looked at you. "Spence, my tits don't fit in this shirt anymore." You'd come out from your bedroom and he'd choke on his drink or his food or the air if there was nothing physical to choke on. It drove him crazy.

At twenty weeks, that's when the craving for the cake came in. Spencer would go out, get you cake, then bring it home to share with you. He gained a few pounds, but that baby of yours took most of that cake from you.

JJ came over sometimes, talking to you about pregnancy with Henry and some things to expect. Spencer, on the other hand, speed-read a shit ton of books about both mothers and fathers during pregnancy and claimed he knew all he needed to know until Hotch sat him down and talked him through a lot he didn't actually know.

The time Spencer spent on cases was lonely and you often found yourself stressing over self-image at twenty-six weeks. You weren't sure if bigger breasts suited you or at what point they would get gross to look at for your husband, but the moment he got home, he'd bury his face in your neck and tell you how beautiful you were and those thoughts would slip away.

He loved you a little too much, maybe. If he caught you staring in the mirror for too long, he would come up behind you and tell you everything he was feeling.

"I am so proud of you for carrying our baby." A soft kiss to your shoulder. "You look so gorgeous and if I may, I bought a new copy of The Catcher in the Rye today at a sale and I would like to read to the baby?"

He was too sweet, as well. He would read to your stomach for hours on end and he took joy in it.

On the other end, he kept joking about how sex induces labour. So much so that you finally caved and enjoyed what you had so stupidly gone without these past few months. Him.

Then you might imagine the joy that came with finding out he was having a daughter. You were going to have a little baby girl. Spencer nearly cried, he was filled with so much love. But it was later that day he was whisked away on a two-week case. He hated leaving you, especially in your prime of the pregnancy. You were due in three weeks and it was hard to say goodbye even for any time at all, seeing as he'd come back for your last week of it all.

With hormones going crazy, he talked with you on the phone in his hotel room. You were so crazed by hormones and he was so tired, there were loosely-strung sexual promises made with his hand conveniently down his pyjamas while you whined about not being able to reach over your bump. More fuel to his fire.

You were on his mind endlessly the entire time. Rightfully, too, but he worked the case as well as he could. You were near catching the unsub and a plan was set to trap them at an event tomorrow. Speaking of convenience, you went into labour one and a half weeks early.

The go-bag was packed and you called your sister to come get you. She roared over, helped you in and drove off as you called Penelope with shaking hands.

"Penelope, the baby is coming, please just... tell Spencer." You were prepared to have this baby without him, even if that hurt you and him. Penelope called JJ, who called Emily, who called Derek, who nearly kicked down the door to Spencer's hotel room.

"Dr. Reid, get your ass up out of bed, it's time to go become a father!" He bellowed through the door. Hotch heard the yelling, then arranged for the jet to take Spencer home. It was the fastest way. Spencer was up and out of his room with his things in seventy seconds, grinning as Derek ruffled his hair on the way by. "Good luck!"

Hotch caught Spencer. "The jet is waiting. Remember, this will be one of the greatest moments of your life, so do your best not to miss it and then make sure you enjoy it." And pat him on the back as Spencer sprinted away.

You were in agonizing pain for most of it. The baby was stubborn on leaving and it hurt like hell. She was nearly out when Spencer rushed in with the medical materials on. The pain seemed to cease when he dropped down by your side and interlocked his fingers with yours. Four minutes more and it was all over. You had a daughter.

Once you were tended to, mended, cleaned and comfortable, your baby was handed to you for the very first time. She was plump, healthy, and beautifully soft. Spencer knew he'd probably cry, but not this much.

This baby was so beautiful, it hurt. Her eyelashes were long like her father's, her skin smooth and body covered in rolls. She was his, she was yours. There was never a happier moment, Hotch was right.

"She doesn't have a name, Spence," you said, looking up at him. He had such pride in his eyes that every twisted thought over these months had washed away. Pride in you and pride in the little girl in the green bundle you held. "What about Emma?"

"I'm not a Jane Austen fan," he replied, scrunching his nose. "Elizabeth."

You shook your head, "Pride and Prejudice isn't my favourite..." You bit your lip. "Beth. Like... Beth March."

"I like Beth." Spencer agreed, heaving a sigh that was filled with love for tiny, gorgeous, Beth Reid. God, he loved you both more than anything.

The team finished their case and the first place they all came was to visit you. Spencer was bonding with the baby when they came in, Beth laying against his bare chest.

"Woah, hot stuff, put that shirt back on before I start calling you daddy," Penelope joked as she walked in. The rest of the team followed after her, coming to greet the pretty little baby. Seeing her was enough to make even Hotch crack a smile with teeth. They all congratulated you, held the baby, and gave hugs.

Derek Morgan greeted your baby with her first-ever and quite accurate, "Hey baby girl."

It was a day to remember.

----

A good few months later, you were back in shape. Eating well, exercise, you had your body back. Beth had taken a liking to flowers, books, and a specific stuffed pig. She took after you, Spencer, and the pig-love was after auntie Penelope.

Spencer was an amazing father and just like before Beth was born, he would read to his baby for hours on end and the best part was that she listened. Yes, the five-month-old baby listened to her father talk about ethics, physics, and Jeffrey Dahmer. The Jeffrey Dahmer thing you made sure to stop just after it started.

Spencer tucked her into her crib every night he was home. But today, it was a little different. The annual family reunion at aunt Maisy's mansion.

Maybe it was the way you looked that sunny afternoon, playing with your daughter in the grass outside. Maybe it was your smile. Maybe it was the way you picked up Beth and pouted, your other hand back on your lower stomach. Maybe it was the way you looked so empty again in that bikini top and coverup skirt.

Things were different, but then again, all the same.

Tags: @luvofyourlifeliv

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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i feel bad for this but spencer’s mugshot makes me laugh every time 😭

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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LUKE SAID “NOW THAT WE’RE NOT WORKING TOGETHER ANYMORE”

MEANING HE’S THOUGHT ABOUT ASKING HER OUT BEFORE BUT COULDN’T

MEANING HIS FLIRTING WITH HER WAS FULLY INTENTIONAL ALL ALONG AND NOT JUST JOKING AROUND

AND PENELOPE’S ENTHUSIASTIC “YEAH”

THIS IS SOMETHING THEY’VE BOTH WANTED FOR A LONG TIME

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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the bau + emphasis on the title.

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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criminal minds episode but it starts off with the ladies getting drunk off their asses at girls night so Hotch is just like “fly in tomorrow, sober up” so the beginning of the episode is the guys trying to solve the case and then it just cuts to JJ doing body shots off of Emily while Penelope films

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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princess of sourdough

summary: spencer didn't listen to you when you said to pack for cold weather on vacation, so he has to buy a tacky tourist sweater

wc: 965 pairing: spencer x fem!reader warnings: food mention, talk of clothing size (spencer’s)

a/n: this is a silly little throwaway blurb that i wrote in like ten minutes after getting inspired by @reidingmelodies! you can read the tags on my reblog of her (absolutely wonderfully amazing) series to see where it came from.

"They don't have ANY other sizes?" Spencer's eyebrows went up to his hairline as he tugged on the gray sweatshirt by its shoulders, waving the fabric in front of you.

"Nope. I checked." A smile spread across your whole face when you realized he had no other choice.

"I'm not wearing it." He tossed it back onto the heaped pile of unfolded clothes on the table of the souvenir stand.

"Spencer, you're gonna freeze."

"I was already freezing before." He shrugged, walking away from the sweatshirt that was three sizes too small for him.

You told Spencer that a trip to San Francisco didn't mean "ditch the winter attire". He claimed profusely, in fact, as he kept taking out the jackets you tried to slip into his suitcase as he was packing for the trip, that there is no way he'd be cold in California.

Unfortunately, he still has more Vegas in him than he does Virginia, because by his body's standard, 40 degrees and foggy was freezing. Especially when in a short-sleeved tee shirt with no jacket on because he wouldn't listen to his girlfriend when she said San Francisco is not like L.A.

"So you admit it's freezing?"

"So you admit it's freezing?" Spencer mocked, pulling an ugly face at you while he crossed his skinny arms over his shivering body.

"Just wear the sweatshirt!" You stamped your foot, getting short with him for putting himself through unnecessary torture just because he was too stubborn.

"It's not a sweatshirt. It's a crop top." He snatched it from your hands and held it up to his chest, showing you that it barely covered his torso. "This is a women's extra small." Your laughter betrayed you as you tried your best to convince Spencer it looked fine.

Still, you had him slip it on over his head just to see if it fit – unfortunately for his pride, it did. The black and red 'I ♥️ SF' printing looked a little warped from where it stretched too tightly across his chest, but he still got it on.

It might not have covered the lower half of his forearms or anything below his bellybutton, but that was more coverage than he had before.

You took a step back to inspect him, pressing your lips so tight against each other it almost hurt just to keep from laughing. He looked at you with dead, emotionless eyes as you snapped a picture before he ripped it off furiously, getting it stuck around his head and flailing a bit as he rushed out of it.

"I'll be cold." And just as he huffed, he saw his breath trailing in front of him in a thick white cloud. He turned his eyes back to the table, at a crossroads.

"There has to be another jacket." He caved and went back to digging around the ransacked pile, trying desperately to find something that didn't cut his oxygen levels in half.

"I think I found something," you smirked, looking up at the mannequin dangling from the railing at the top of the pop-up stand.

It was a baby pink hoodie, with a large airbrushed purple heart that had cursive script going across it reading ‘San Francisco Princess’. It was clearly meant for a little girl, but the one on display was in an extra large that would easily fit him.

"We're going back to Virginia." He grabbed your hand and tried to march off the pier with you in tow. You instead tugged him back, sending his brittle body tripping over his two feet as he stumbled back to your side.

You asked the nice man behind the table to take down the hoodie and handed him a crisp $20 bill in exchange.

Spencer scowled, eyebrows scrunched together and bottom lip pushed out as you slipped it over his head, straightening it out so the 'Princess' laid nice and flat across his chest.

"There you go, San Francisco Princess." You popped the hood over his head, pulling the strings so it fit nice and snug around his cold ears. Linking your arm around one of his, you dragged your very grouchy boyfriend along the rest of the wooden pier to look at the sea lions that came to lay out.

"I am not. A San Francisco Princess."

"Would you rather be the Shivering Princess?"

"No!" He stopped walking to stomp his feet like a child; rapidly and all in one spot, which made his whole body shake.

"I'm sorry. No, you're not." You place your free hand under his chin to hold him still as you placed a quick peck to the bright red apples of his wind-chilled cheeks. "You're my princess."

You gave him one more kiss on the icy tip of his nose, warming it against your lips. When you pulled back, his lips were still curled in a pout although his eyes had softened.

Now he was just pretending to be upset.

You knew he was faking it, but that didn't stop you from playing along. After all, how often do you get to treat him like a princess?

“I'll let you eat a loaf of sourdough in place of dinner.”

His eyes narrowed, contemplating your offer. In three days, Spencer tore through four loaves of the chewy bread — “It’s baked FRESH here, honey! Can’t get this back home.” — and you had to put him on probation.

When he didn’t immediately jump on it, you changed your methods. “I’ll buy you a sundae at Ghirardelli Square” you sing-songed, dancing two fingers up his arm, to which he quirked a brow.

“With hot fudge and rainbow sprinkles?”

You nodded, unable to resist getting on your tippy toes and kissing his cheek again. “Anything for my princess.”

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

Note

I have a soft Hotch blurb idea

So imagine the reader and Hotch are sharing a room and Hotch is stayed behind at the precinct.

The reader notorious for playing music and singing along to it in in the shower hops in.

Hotch arrives to the room to hear the readers singing. He finds it super endearing. The reader leaves the bathroom and becomes super embarrassed that Hotch heard their singing.

You can make this cute or funny. I haven’t stopped thinking about this concept since I left my shower (as you probably can I assume I sing in the shower a lot lmao)

Lots of love !!! Love your writing.

ahhhh! soft hotch is my favorite hotch lol this was super fun to write hehehe. fully SFW with some smoochin at the end, just some fun fluff!

When everyone left the precinct to get some rest at the end of the day, Aaron often stayed another hour to check in with the local P.D. and type up a summary of the day’s findings. He almost never had to worry about anyone calling him on this obviously unhealthy behavior, because it was so rare these days that the team ended up sharing rooms anymore. Until this case.

This tiny town had exactly one hotel, with four rooms to let. Dave had taken the single, claiming he was a light sleeper and would smack anyone on the team if they dared disturb his beauty sleep. Reid and Morgan had paired off easily, and you, Emily, and JJ had flipped a coin to see who would sleep in the same room as Aaron. He tried not to wince as you fought over who had to share a room with him.

He also tried to ignore how adorable you were when you were doing your nighttime and morning routines. Or the way his stomach fluttered when you teased him as you were going to bed. Or how your legs brushed his in the queen-sized bed you were sharing. He tried to ignore a lot about you, but the part that he ignored the most was the fact that he wanted you so desperately that he couldn’t focus on anything but you. That was at least part of why he stayed even later than usual at the precinct that night. You had bugged him the last few nights about staying too late at the precinct and the importance of rest, and it made his heart skip beats when he realized you were concerned about him.

“It’s terrible for your body to get as little sleep as you get on a daily basis,” You said while brushing your teeth the night before.

“I’ve told you before, (y/n), you don’t have to wait up for me.”

“And I’ve told you, Hotch, I would not be able to sleep until I knew you were back safe.”

He felt a little guilty staying out so late now that he knew you were going to be waiting up for him, it was the entire reason he finally decided to pack up and head back to the hotel before midnight that night. It had been a supremely terrible day; another body showed up and the local PD was giving the team so much pushback for just doing their jobs. Aaron was pretty sure that Dave was going to clock one of the officers earlier if Morgan hadn’t intervened and defused the situation expertly.

When he got back to the room, you were in the shower blasting loud dance music. After a moment when the shower turned off, Aaron grinned, realizing you were singing along to the song that was playing. He had never heard the song before, but hearing you sing it – even as bad as you were – he thought it sounded like the best song he’d ever heard.

“And we danced all night to the best song ever, we knew every line now I can’t remember-” You sang and danced as you pushed out of the bathroom in little pajama shorts and an old t-shirt. “Aaron, hi, I was just –”

“Singing.” A shiver rolled up his spine at the sound of his first name on your lips. You were adorable with your hair laying wet down your back, your jammies as mismatched and cute as he remembered.

“You didn’t hear -”

“What a terrible singer you are?” He asked with a grin. “Of course I did.”

“Jerk,” You laughed. “Do you know what else I was doing?”

“Having a dance party without me?”

“You want to join my dance party?” You asked with a grin. “Doesn’t seem like your kind of scene, Hotchner.”

“Well, we had a pretty awful day,” He sighed. “I’m fine just watching this one-woman dance party.”

“Get that blazer and tie off,” You laughed. “And get ready to dance.”

Aaron grinned, pulling his blazer and tie off and rolling his sleeves up to the elbows. You laughed wildly as he started dancing, seeing how stiff and awkward he was and moving in closer to him. His body tingled where you were holding his hips to move them along with yours.

“Come on, loosen up,” You smiled up at him.

“I’m not sure how,” He swallowed nervously.

“Like this,” You said quietly, moving his hands to your hips and placing yours on his shoulders so you were moving together. “You’ve got it, now just get a little bit closer.”

Aaron bit back a groan as you moved your pelvises together, your bodies moving in time with the music, eyes never breaking eye contact. It was like instinct, his body moving without instruction at the feeling of having you pressed so close to him. When he bent his head down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, he almost expected you to pull out of his grasp, but if anything you moved in closer to him if that was even possible.

“Keep dancing,” You whispered. “Kissing isn’t a suitable excuse for stopping a dance party.”

“(Y/n),” Aaron breathed.

“You’re a great kisser, Aaron,” You grinned. “Not so much a great dancer, but we’ll work on it.”

“Promise?” He laughed.

“Oh there are definitely more dance parties in your future,” You said. “And more smooching in mine.”

You danced a full playlist away together, intermingling upbeat dance songs where you sang all the lyrics and jumped all around the room and slower ballad type songs where Aaron held you as close as he could get you, kissing every part of exposed skin he could reach. He might have felt a little bad about the noise, but he knew the only room next to yours was Dave’s and after that little show he put on with the local police, Aaron thought it was a suitable punishment to hear the best dance party he’d ever been to.

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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Act one (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Yes. Hello hello @meowiemari

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend is a sweetheart, but he discovers a new side of her when she gets the lead on a play, and she portraits an unsub.

Category: Hardcore fluff 💜 (you know that’s how we roll here)

Warnings: Maybe a little cursing here and there, but that’s it.

Word count: 3,7K

Masterlist

************************************************************

Spencer’s girlfriend was a sweetheart. (Y/N) was the kind of girl who you thought might actually be a Disney princess in a different universe. She was adorable. Garcia was crazy for her, Morgan adored her, JJ thought of her as a little sister, and Prentiss always tried (and failed) to make (Y/N) curse once each time she saw her. They loved her.

And, of course, Spencer loved his girlfriend. He couldn’t deny it. He didn’t even try to do it. He knew he was young. He was just 25, after all. But he already knew she was the love of her life. Derek would always tease him about it, joking about how he was ready to propose to her, even after just six months of dating.

Spencer would laugh, but deep down, he knew Derek was right. (Y/N) was just perfect for him. She was the sweetest girl everywhere she went. That’s why everybody was in shock when over dinner in Penelope’s, she announced to the team she might play a serial killer in a play she was putting on with her drama group.

- “Oh, honey”- Penelope smiled and caressed her hand on the table- “There’s no way you can actually pull that off.”

- “What? Why?”- (Y/N) asked, confused, as the whole team nodded in agreement with Garcia’s words.

- “You are too sweet to portray a killer nurse!”- Prentiss added

- “Well, I am not going actually to do it. I have to learn my lines and all, but I’m the substitute for the part.”

- “Substitute?”- Spencer frowned, in shock- “What do you mean? You are amazing!”

- “Yeah, well, apparently not as amazing as Rachel Cooper. She got the lead role, again.”- (Y/N) smiled and took a sip of her wine- “But, anyway, if anything happens, it’s on, and I’ll play a mass murderer nurse.”

- “You are too sweet for that role, baby face”- Derek smiled at his friend and shook his head- “But you’d make an amazing job.”

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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4x02 | 12x12 (some things never change…)

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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Criminal Minds Master List

🌹=FLUFF

💔=ANGST

💦=SMUT

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST??}

[WATTY ~ AO3]

Derek Morgan

Spencer Reid

Luke Alvez

Jennifer Jareau Emily Prentiss David Rossi Aaron Hotchner

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boygenius-reid · 3 years

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This is so cute!

u sprained your ankle so spencer takes the day off to take care of you

yeast was going to kill you. actually, it would be spencer, not the yeast, but that was certainly a defining factor.

hopping up on the counter to grab it from that unreasonably high shelf had been fine, and then you started to get down. you winced as you shifted your weight, attempting to keep it off your injured foot.

“now just what do you think you’re doing?”

you jumped, stumbling back into the counter. while spencer’s voice was stern, his hands were gentle when they came to rest on your waist.

“slipping, apparently.” you scoffed and leaned up into spencer’s touch. he didn’t take humor in your statement; his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline.

“you told me you would be careful.”

“i am! you just scared me.”

“climbing up on the counter is not careful.”

you threw up your hands— he had a point, but you still felt indignant. you were fine now, one hand on the granite to steady you, but spencer’s hold on your waist was firm anyway.

“well...” you looked up at him, “i wanted to make bread.”

you held up the package of yeast to prove your point. spencer gently snatched it away and put it on the counter.

“so, come get me,” he countered. “you promised me if i didn’t take off work that you would be careful and take it easy.”

“i sprained my ankle, i didn’t get shot.” you poked his chest for emphasis, as if to say ‘like somebody i know.’

he slid his arm around the small of your back, tapping your hip until you got the hint to move. the two of you shuffled out of the kitchen to the couch, you leaning on spencer more than you would admit to him. it was just a sprained ankle, but in the way that a paper cut was just a paper cut. you leaned into your boyfriend until he helped you settle against the cushions.

“it’s just a sprained ankle now but it’s going to get worse if you don’t rest.”

he fussed with the pillows behind you until you lovingly pushed his hands away. he settled in next to you instead.

“do you ever stop worrying?” you asked, poking at his arm. he smiled in spite of himself.

“no. and, you know what?”

“what?”

he brushed your hair behind your ear, watching the quirk of your eyebrows in response to his question. just as he opened his mouth again, he tapped your nose.

“i... am staying home with you today.”

your brow furrowed. “spencer-“

he shook his head, shushing you with a kiss on the temple. “nope, none of that.”

“you’re not calling out of work for me.”

“too late, already did.” his voice was a sing-song, practically teasing you. “i had a feeling you wouldn’t take my very serious instructions seriously.”

your mouth dropped open– you and your damn stress fractures.

“but what about-“

“they’ll live without me for a day, they have before.”

you weren’t sure what to say, but you still felt bad; it didn’t feel fair for him to take off just because you were stubborn and couldn’t sit on your ass the one time your body needed you to. spencer must’ve seen the conflict in your eyes because he gently gripped your jaw, guiding your gaze toward him.

“if they really need me, i’ll go in, okay? but i wanna take care of you.”

you pursed your lips and mulled over his words, whether he was telling the truth or not, but his touch was so soft that you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. not that you even wanted to...

“okay,” you sighed. you placed your hand on top of his and turned to kiss his palm.

“but only because you could use a day off.”

his laughter came in a delightful giggle, apparently quite amused by that. he let go of your face in favor of messing with your leg (aka propping it up on his lap).

“you’re a full time job anyway, bug.”

“hey!”

“kidding.”

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