#STORM REID WAS SO GOOD

[sharkbaitblr]

HBO's The Last of Us 1x07

[thundergrace]

[lucyshypemaster]

you guys I just finished watching "missing" and it was SOOOOOO GOOD WTF LIKE my expectations was low- I only watched it bc many people hyped it up on tiktok and I CANNOT BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO WATCH THE MOVIE

[hearts4cara]

woke up and had a nice morning but then i remembered last night's tlou. FUCK :(

[gremlinbean]

Honestly 'The Perfect Storm' is my fave Criminal Minds episode and it is not talked about enough

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[ddejavvu]

HI!!! Please can i request an awkward!glasses reid oneshot where he’s like pining over the reader?? maybe with a bit of tension ;))) but he like slips up and says something like ‘god ur beautiful?’ THANK UUUU

The rain pouring down in massive, silvery sheets does nothing to dull your halo, Spencer thinks. Actually, it might make it shine brighter, a haze of mist clouding your form as you traipse through the downpour.

"Seattle sucks!" You gush, raising a hand to smear away the wet strands of your hair that cling to your face, "God, why can't Arizona have another murderer running around?"

"The rain is actually a good forensic countermeasure - it washes the blood away so that he can drag the body wherever he wants and we won't be able to follow his trail." Spencer has to shout to be heard over the splattering of water upon the sidewalk, and he tries not to cry as he feels water seeping into his boots. Rossi had treated the entire team to a pair of galoshes after his precious Italian leather shoes became mottled with mud, and though they're helpful for trekking through the storm, they're also fantastic at catching rainwater.

"I hate it when serial killers are smarter than us!" You plunge your hand into the pocket of your jacket, digging out the key fob for the car. You unlock it with a beep and the taillights shine in the storm. You're more than happy to throw the door open and slip out of your jacket, taking minimal rain damage to your outfit as you slide swiftly onto the driver's seat of the van.

Spencer hears you let out a groan as the car roars to life, and so does the heater. You throw your head back against the seat, hair stringy and soaked, face dripping with rain.

One droplet slides down your nose and dips between the curve of your lips, something you can't bring yourself to care about as the heater blasts the chill from your blood. He watches you melt into the seat, and only one thought comes to mind: "You're beautiful."

His voice is a quiet murmur, and he's also speaking over the torrential downpour outside, so you don't catch what he says, thankfully. He doesn't know why his brain had miscalculated his thought and sent it down through his mouth instead of just his head, but he fumbles to snatch the opportunity you give him to save himself.

"Hm?" You turn to look at him, brows slightly raised in curiosity.

"My boots are full!" He blurts, cheeks red but not from the heat as he reaches for one of his rain-soaked shoes, "I- I- There's rainwater in my- my boots, and I need to-" He tugs the rubber off of his foot and turns it upside-down outside of the car so that it splashes off of the pavement, and he jams it back over his soaked sock while furiously avoiding eye contact.

Your pants were looser than Spencer's own, and you'd been able to tuck them over the mouth of your boots. Yours aren't even remotely soggy inside, so you laugh incredulously as he releases his tsunami before you drive off.

"Spence, that's insane," You watch as he stuffs the second boot back onto his foot, "You poor thing, are your socks all wet?"

"Yeah," He breathes, finally shutting the car door and trying to relax his tensely-held muscles as he comes down from his embarrassment, "Uh- yeah it's fine, though. They'll dry out."

"Use the foot heater," You flick a button on the center console, and hot air seeps from a vent beneath the glove compartment, "That better?"

"Yeah," Spencer toes off his boots, letting the warmth aid his chilled skin and damp attire, "Thanks, Y/N."

"Thank you," You nod and turn your eyes to the road as you pull out of the parking lot.

"For what?" Spencer looks briefly over at you, glasses spattered with raindrops.

"For calling me beautiful," You grin.

[reiderwriter]

🃏That's What You Get 🃏Series Masterlist

“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand, would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, instead he's staring intently at whatever else is in his hands.  “What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.  Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.  “I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.  “Y/N I think we got married last night.”

Summary: After a long case in Las Vegas, all the BAU team wants is to go home. But fate, or at least a timely storm, has other ideas. Stuck for another 24 hours in the City of Sin, you enlist the help of Spencer Reid to guide you through a night of relative debauchery, but when you wake up in the morning, you make a discovery you weren't expecting...

A/N: Hello, and welcome to my first planned series! I'm so excited to write this one, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it! The first few chapters will be mostly SFW but the later chapters will be pretty smut heavy, so please look forward to that! I'm hoping to make this a weekly upload from now until the end of October but I'm pretty impatient so it might be a bi-weekly thing instead 🫣 Below the cut is a link to the chapters and the date you can be ecoectknf to see them on!

Sign up for the series taglist here!

My requests are open, and you can check out the rest of my masterlist here!

CHAPTER ONE - Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

CHAPTER TWO - The Thought of You Makes Me Weak

CHAPTER THREE - You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch

CHAPTER FOUR - Trust in Me When I Say

CHAPTER FIVE - There Are No Words Left to Speak

CHAPTER SIX - To Warm a Lonely Night

CHAPTER SEVEN - Let Me Love You

CHAPTER EIGHT - Pardon The Way That I Stare

CHAPTER NINE - You're Just Too Good to Be True

CHAPTER TEN - Please Let Me Know That It's Real

CHAPTER ELEVEN - Now That I Found You Stay

CHAPTER TWELVE - At Long Last Love Has Arrived

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

What about an angst to fluff where reader and Spencer aren’t exactly dating but they had a date planed and Spencer cancelled cause he had a case. Reader goes to a bar with her friends and sees Spencer walking in with JJ or someone undercover but reader thinks he blew her off for another date…

So Two FBI Agents Walk Into a Bar...

Summary: Reader confronts Spencer after finding him at a bar with another woman.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Slight angst-to-fluff

Word count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for submitting, and thank you thank you for your patience 🩵

The evening was supposed to be perfect. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the quiet street as the setting sun cast a warm glow over the city. The air was thick with anticipation as you carefully selected your outfit for the night. You had a date planned with Spencer, the enigmatic and brilliant man you’d been getting to know over the past few months. You weren’t officially dating, but the chemistry between you two was undeniable, and this was meant to be a significant step forward.

But life had a way of throwing curveballs. Just hours before your scheduled meet-up, Spencer called to cancel. Granted, you could hear the frustration and exhaustion (because when is he not working) over the phone, the pang of disappointment hitting your core was still hard to ignore. There was an urgent case that apparently demanded his attention, so he had to be there. You hated to understand the demands but simply agreed to postpone your plans and hung up with a sigh.

Instead of moping for the rest of the evening, your friends convinced you to join them at a nearby bar. They promised laughter, good company, and a distraction from the pain that often came with new men in your life. Reluctantly, you agreed and soon found yourself amidst the lively chatter of the bar, a drink clinging to your hand throughout the evening

As the sun began disappearing and evening blended into night, your friends’ laughter became infectious, and you began to relax. You were sharing stories, trading jokes, and momentarily forgetting about the original plans with Spencer. But it was as if the universe heard you because a sudden hush fell over your table as the group’s attention was drawn toward the entrance.

There, walking in, was Spencer. And a woman. A woman who was indeed not you. A leggy blond in a little black dress that, of course (of-fucking-course), looked fantastic on her.

Your heart sank at the sight. Spencer Reid had cancelled your date only to go out with someone else. The initial shock turned into a whirlwind of emotions—hurt, anger, and a sense of betrayal. A full-course meal of confusing feelings right in front of you as you still couldn’t believe your eyes.

Your friends, however, watched in real time as the feelings played out on your face. They exchanged knowing glances as the turmoil only set in further in front of them. And it’s before they have a chance to react that you’ve stormed over to them. Your voice wavered, a mix of anger and hurt trading places as you said, “Seriously, Spencer? You cancelled on me for someone else?” You gestured toward the woman, who was now looking up at you. She had gorgeous blue eyes, and it didn’t help your self-esteem in the slightest. “Does she know you did this? I doubt it.”

Spencer’s own eyes widened at the surprise, and he jumped to his feet. The urgency and frustration (of getting caught, clearly) were just as evident on his face. “Y/N, wait.” He says. “You have it all wrong here.”

You weren’t ready to listen, though. The feelings festering in your body had reached their boiling point, and you were determined to let Spencer feel the burn. “Save it! I can’t believe you would do this to me. I thought we had…” Tears started welling up the moment you felt yourself on a roll, as if tonight couldn’t be more embarrassing. “I thought you were different.”

Spencer took hold of your arm. His grip was firm but not forceful, pulling you into a quieter, more secluded corner of the bar (where your friends could still see you as their heads bobbed from the table like pigeons). “Okay, okay,” Spencer began, whether to you or himself; you couldn’t tell. “Listen, you’re just going to have to trust me on this. That woman, her name is J.J. She’s a co-worker. She’s married, happily married, and we’re working undercover on a case. I didn’t blow you off for a date.”

And it was then; your anger had no choice but to waver. As his words sank in, confusion replaced the initial fury. “Undercover? A case? You mean the case is happening now?”

Spencer nodded, rapidly, like he was on a sugar high. “Yes! Look!" He even messed with the collar on his cardigan, revealing the tiny microphone clipped to it. It blended in with its navy color. “I know it looks bad. I do. But I promise, there’s nothing between me and J.J. It’s all part of the investigation.”

You looked Spencer in the eyes; they were sad and starting to gloss. “So, your people, the others in on the investigation... they can hear you right now?”

Spencer’s lips thinned out. “Yeah.”

“Have they said anything?”

“Morgan’s too busy laughing. I can’t hear anything else.”

The anger began melting away, replaced by a mix of frustration and embarrassment. You looked down, the foolishness of jumping to conclusions finally catching up to you. The scene you made. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

Spencer clipped the mic back into place and gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I understand why you were upset. But just know I would never intentionally hurt you like that.”

You met his gaze, the tension between you easing. “I should have trusted you.”

Spencer’s smile widened slightly as he reached out to cup your cheek. His hand is cold but soft. “So, can we start over?”

You nodded, smiling now. “Yeah, let’s start over.”

Spencer nodded. Plans were already made. Spencer was at work. Before heading back to J.J., Spencer made the gentlemanly choice to walk you back to your group of friends. Before he had a chance to introduce himself and depart gracefully for the night, he jerked down to his mic. “I heard that, Morgan. Hey, at least I have a girlfriend.”

You, however, pretended not to hear. You trust he’ll say it again.

[rynwritesreid]

Apologies| Spencer Reid

A/N: Before I watched CM the only American crime show I watched was Bones, and I wish that they had a crossover at some point(Bones and Spencer, Booth and Hotch, pls). I have also started re-watching English crime shows, Lewis specifically, and I forgot how good they are but I will always view scandis as the superior crime show writers, because can you get better than the killing and jordskott?!

Summary: After a breakup with Spencer, you notice how he only flirts with other people when you’re around. However, when you give Spencer a taste of his own medicine, he realises it will always just be you, and no other woman will ever come close to you. 

Content: fem! Reader. Make up sex. Oral (f! Receiving). No mentions of contraception. PinV. Smut. Fluff. Mentions of a breakup and then getting back together. 18+

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

It wasn’t a rough, or hostile, breakup, you two still loved each other, but for whatever reason you just seemed to stop communicating with each other, and that seemed to lead to the breakdown of your relationship. You still worked well together, and as you promised Hotch when the two of you started dating, you never let your relationship affect your work. 

However, Spencer seemed to enjoy openly flirting with other women when you were around, and it was an obvious attempt to make you jealous, but you were not going to let him win. You wanted to give Spencer a taste of his own medicine, show him how it felt. 

One evening, as you sat at the bar of a local pub, nursing a drink and observing the patrons around you, an idea formed in your mind. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you spotted a handsome stranger sitting alone at a nearby table. He seemed lost in thought, a certain air of mystery surrounding him.

You began a casual conversation with the stranger, making witty remarks and laughing at his jokes. The exchange was light-hearted, devoid of any deeper meaning. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had been observing your interaction from afar. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling inside him. As much as he wanted to appear unaffected, he couldn't deny the pang of possessiveness that gripped his heart.

He watched as you leaned closer to the stranger, your laughter fading into a whisper. His jaw clenched, and he suddenly felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. The unfamiliar sensation was unsettling, a mix of anger and longing.

Unable to bear it any longer, Spencer excused himself from the table he had been observing you from and made his way across the pub. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if he were dragging an anchor behind him. The sound of his heart pounding filled his ears, drowning out the din of the pub around him.

As Spencer approached the table, his eyes never left yours. The stranger turned to face him, a curious yet guarded expression on his face. 

"Mind if I join you?" Spencer asked, his voice steady despite the swirling emotions within him.

The stranger shrugged, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "Be my guest."

Spencer pulled out a chair and took a seat, careful to keep his composure despite the tumultuous storm roaring within him. He glanced at the stranger, trying to decipher what you had found so intriguing about him. The man exuded an air of confidence and mystery that seemed to draw you in.

The conversation continued, but this time there was an underlying tension that filled the air. Both Spencer and the stranger engaged in a battle of wits, each trying to outdo the other with clever remarks and subtle jabs. It was a dance of words, laced with hidden meanings.

You watched the exchange unfold, your mischievous smile growing wider. You couldn't help but relish in the power shift that was taking place before your eyes. The atmosphere crackled with an electric energy, charged by the unspoken competition between Spencer and the stranger. It was as if they were fighting for your attention, vying for a part of you that had been neglected.

The conversation escalated into a sophisticated game of verbal chess. Words ricocheted across the table, each remark glinting with double entendre. The stranger's eyes sparkled with amusement, seemingly enjoying the challenge that Spencer presented. And yet, beneath his composed facade, Spencer's hands trembled slightly, betraying his inner turmoil.

“Well, I am enjoying this conversation, it’s getting pretty late, so I am going to head home now.” You said, standing up from the table with a sly grin. Both Spencer and the stranger looked at you, momentarily stunned by the abrupt end to their battle of wits.

"But the night is still young," the stranger replied, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

You chuckled, enjoying the power you held over both men. "Perhaps another time," you teased, shooting a playful wink at Spencer before turning to leave.

Spencer's eyes followed you as you walked away, a mixture of frustration and longing etched on his face. He had wanted to prove himself, to show you that he was worthy of your attention. But now, it seemed as though he had only pushed you further away.

The stranger cleared his throat, breaking Spencer out of his reverie. "Quite the woman you have there," he commented, a touch of admiration in his voice.

Spencer nodded absentmindedly, unable to tear his gaze away from your retreating figure. "Yes, she is certainly something," Spencer replied, his voice laced with a mix of resignation and determination. “As she said, it is getting late, so I also better be heading back home.”

The stranger watched as Spencer stood up from the table, his eyes filled with a newfound determination. "Good luck," the stranger called after him, a hint of sympathy colouring his voice.

Spencer nodded in acknowledgment, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to win you back. He had been foolish to let things deteriorate to this point, to let his own insecurities drive a wedge between you. But now, he was ready to fight for what he realized he couldn't bear to lose.

As Spencer made his way back home, his mind was consumed with thoughts of how to repair the damage he'd caused. He knew he couldn't let his insecurities continue to sabotage his relationship with you. The evening's encounter at the pub had been a wake-up call, a jolt to his system that reminded him of what truly mattered.

Upon entering his apartment, Spencer took a deep breath, determined to set things right. He grabbed his phone and dialled your number, hoping that you would answer and give him a chance to explain himself. The phone rang once, twice, before you finally picked up.

"Hey," you greeted cautiously, your voice tinged with curiosity.

"Hi," Spencer replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. "I... I wanted to talk."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before you spoke again. "Alright. Come over."

Relief flooded through Spencer as he hung up the phone and quickly made his way over to your apartment.

As Spencer stood outside your apartment door, he took a deep breath to steady his racing heart. He knew that this conversation would be pivotal, a make-or-break moment for the two of you. With newfound determination, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

The sound reverberated through the hallway, each rap echoing with anticipation. Seconds ticked by, and Spencer began to doubt if you would actually let him in. Just as he was about to turn away, the door creaked open, revealing your figure framed in the soft glow of the hallway light.

You looked at him, a mixture of curiosity and caution in your eyes. "Come in," you said softly, stepping aside to let him enter.

Spencer walked into your apartment, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him. The familiar scent of your home enveloped him, bringing back memories of happier times.

“What did you want to talk about, Spencer?”

Spencer took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze lingering on you. “Us. I want to talk about us. Was your intention to make me jealous tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by Spencer's directness. "Jealous? No, that wasn't my intention. I was merely enjoying a friendly conversation."

“Sure, but you enjoyed it. Didn’t you? Watching two men fight over you.”

You paused for a moment, considering Spencer's question. "Maybe I did," you admitted, your voice softening. "But it wasn't about wanting to make you jealous. It was about wanting to see if you still cared enough to fight for me."

Spencer's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "I do care, more than you can imagine," he confessed, his voice filled with earnestness.

“Really? Why have you been flirting with other women, every chance you get?”

Spencer's eyes widened at your accusation, his heart sinking. He had hoped that you hadn't noticed his behaviour, that somehow, he could keep his insecurities hidden. But now, faced with your piercing gaze, he knew he couldn't hide any longer.

"I... I didn't mean for it to seem like flirting," Spencer stammered, his voice tinged with regret. "I was just... I don't know, trying to prove something to myself." He took a step closer to you, desperation etched on his face. "But it was never about not wanting you or needing someone else. It was about my own fears and insecurities getting the better of me."

You looked at him, a mix of frustration and understanding crossing your face. "But flirting with other women won't solve anything, Spencer. It only pushes me further away."

“I get that now, but it will always just be you. And seeing you flirt with that man, made me realise I can’t lose you; I can never lose you.” Spencer took a deep breath, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I don’t want to lose you either, I love you Spencer, and I don’t think I will ever stop loving you.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your confession, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over him. He had been so afraid that his actions had pushed you too far, that he had lost you for good. But in that moment, as your words hung in the air, he knew that there was still hope.

"I love you too," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "And I promise, from this moment on, I will do everything in my power to make it right. To show you that you're the only one I want."

You believed him, he wasn’t the type of person to lie about this stuff. He moved closer to you, his hand reaching out and cupping your chin gently. His touch was warm, his eyes filled with sincerity as he leaned in to kiss you softly.

The kiss, filled with longing and forgiveness, spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that moment, the weight of their insecurities and misunderstandings lifted, leaving only the love they held for each other.

As the kiss deepened, Spencer's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. Every brush of his lips against yours was a reminder of the passion they shared, of the promises they made to each other.

When you finally pulled apart, your breaths mingling in the air, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I never want to hurt you like that again."

You reached up, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I believe you," you said softly. His lips once again found yours in a tender embrace, and the world outside ceased to exist. In that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger than ever.

Spencer wasn’t going to let this kiss end though, he couldn’t. He would never be able to find someone like you, you were his soulmate, and nothing would ever stop him loving you.

The kiss deepened, becoming a passionate dance of love and desire. Spencer's hands roamed over your body, tracing the familiar curves and contours he knew so well. The room filled with the sound of heavy breathing and soft moans as the intensity between you grew.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your chests heaving with a mixture of anticipation and longing. Spencer's eyes locked with yours, his gaze filled with an unspoken promise. He had made up his mind to fight for your love, to be a better partner than he had been before.

"I don't want to lose you," Spencer whispered, his voice laced with determination. "I can't imagine my life without you. Let me make it right."

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love shining back at you. The doubts that had plagued your mind began to crumble, replaced by a renewed hope for the future.

“How will you go about making it right?” you said with a hint of mischief in your eyes and a small smirk on your lips.

Spencer grinned back at you, a spark in his eyes. "Trust me, you're going to love what I have in store for us."

“Oh really?” you replied, raising an eyebrow playfully.

As Spencer led you into the living room, he gently pushed you onto the couch, the cushions sinking under your weight. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked on yours, a determined look in his eyes.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered again, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "I promise to be better. I promise to be the man you deserve, the partner you need, and the lover you want."

You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. You could see the sincerity there, the resolution to make things right. You could see the love that had never truly waned, that had always been there, waiting for you to see it.

"Okay, Spencer," you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips. "I trust you. Show me how you're going to make it right."

Spencer's grin widened as he moved closer to you, his eyes filled with mischief and excitement. He reached out, gently trailing his fingers along your cheek, his touch leaving a trail of tingling sensation in its wake.

"I'm going to remind you of just how much you mean to me," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, will be a testament to my love for you."

His lips descended upon yours once more, this time with a renewed fervour. The kiss was hungry and passionate, as if both of you were trying to convey all the emotions that had been left unsaid during those tumultuous times. Spencer's hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves and dips that he had missed so much.

You responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer. A soft moan escaped your lips as his hands found their way under your shirt, his fingertips gently grazing your skin. The warmth between you intensified, a magnetic attraction pulling you closer together.

As the kiss broke, both of you were gasping for air, your hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of your desires. You looked into each other's eyes, the love and trust shining brightly, a beacon of hope for the future.

"I'm ready," you whispered, your voice filled with earnestness. "Show me how you're going to make it right, Spencer. I'm ready to trust you and be with you, no matter what."

Spencer smiled, a look of pure joy and relief washing over his face. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly towards the bedroom. The anticipation in the air was palpable, fuelled by the love that had brought you both to this moment.

Upon reaching the bedroom, he laid you down on the soft sheets, the cool fabric brushing against your skin. His eyes locked with yours, filled with the determination to make amends. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead, as he smothered your face with kisses.

Your body responded to his touch, each kiss igniting a fire within you that hadn't been felt in what felt like forever. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. You moaned softly, the desire taking over your senses.

"You're mine now," Spencer growled, his voice low and filled with possessiveness. "You're going to belong to me, completely and utterly."

His lips found yours once more, his hands exploring every curve of your body. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, wanting him to know just how much you wanted him. The passion between you was palpable, electric.

"I'll never let you go, I promise," he whispered against your lips. "You're mine, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you know that."

His hands found the zip of your dress, and slowly pulled it down, revealing your trembling body beneath. Your heart was pounding, your breaths were shallow, as you looked into his eyes. He had a look of determination, a look that told you he was ready to make things right.

He continued to kiss you, his hands trailing down your arms, your waist, and finally to your hips. He lifted you slightly, and with one swift motion, your dress fell to the floor. You were standing there, naked, vulnerable, and exposed, but you knew that he wouldn't waste this moment.

He led you back to the bed, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with the promise to make it right. He lowered you onto the soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. His lips found yours in a fiery kiss, his hands roaming your body, caressing every inch of your skin.

You could feel your heart racing, your breath hitched in your throat, as you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for. The moment where he would show you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to make things right.

His lips trailed down your neck, his hands gently caressing your skin, making you shiver in pleasure. You moaned softly, your body responding to his touch. He could feel the desire building between you, the electricity of your connection.

His hands worked their way down to your waist, his fingers trailing along your hips, down to your thighs. He gently spread your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the love and trust in his eyes, the desire to make it right.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, his breath warm and tantalizing. You arched your back slightly, inviting him closer, wanting him to explore every inch of you.

His tongue danced along your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses. You moaned softly, your breaths shallow, your heart pounding with anticipation. You could feel your body responding to his touch, the desire building within you.

He continued his exploration, his tongue delving deeper, his lips leaving kisses along your skin. You could feel your body trembling, your senses heightened, as his hands continued to explore your skin. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to make you feel alive and desired.

His tongue found its way to your clit, his lips softly sucking and caressing it. Your breath hitched in your throat, your moans growing louder. You could feel your body building towards the edge, the desire and lust coursing through your veins.

He continued his ministrations, his hands exploring your body, his tongue delving deeper. You could feel your orgasm building, the intensity of your pleasure growing with each passing moment.

You arched your back even more, your body trembling with pleasure, as you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for. The moment where he would show you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to make things right.

Your orgasm slammed into you like a wave, your body shaking uncontrollably, your pleasure reaching new heights. You cried out his name, your moans echoing throughout the room. He continued to please you, his tongue never leaving your most sensitive spot, as you soared towards your peak.

Your scream filled the air as you came, your body convulsing with pleasure. Spencer continued to pleasure you, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his tongue never leaving your clit. He was determined to make it up to you, to show you just how much he cared.

As your orgasm subsided, you could still feel the aftershocks reverberating through your body. You took a deep breath, turning to look at Spencer, who was still between your legs, his fingers gently wiping away the remnants of your release.

He wasn’t done though, he wanted to ensure that you knew just how much he loved you, how much he wanted to make things right. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, filled with a mix of love, desire, and determination.

Swiftly, he stood up, his gaze never leaving yours. He began to undress himself, revealing his toned body and hardness that had been growing throughout your passion. You could feel the desire building within you again, your heart racing at the thought of what he was about to do.

He climbed back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against you. You could feel the anticipation building within you, the desire and love between you both intense.

With a single motion, he entered you, his body fitting perfectly against yours. You gasped, your body responding to his touch. He began to move, his rhythm perfect, his movements slow and measured.

Your eyes locked onto his, the love and trust shining brightly between you. You could feel his determination, his need to make things right. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment where he would show you just how much he loved you.

He increased his pace, his body moving faster and harder. You moaned softly, your breath hitched in your throat, as the passion between you both intensified. Your body responded to his touch, every movement sending waves of pleasure through you.

His eyes never left yours, his love for you shining brightly in his gaze. You felt his determination, his need to make things right. The feeling of his body against yours was intoxicating, sending a wave of pleasure through your entire being.

Your breaths grew shallower, your moans growing louder. You could feel your orgasm building, the intensity of your pleasure growing with each passing moment. You arched your back, your body trembling with desire, as you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

His thrusts became more frenzied, his body trembling with the same desire that was pulsing through yours. You could feel the tension building within him, the need to reach the peak together. He knew that the only way to make it right was to share this moment with you, to feel the passion and love between you both.

With one final thrust, he collapsed onto you, his breath ragged, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. You cried his name, your body still shaking from the pleasure that had just washed over you.

He pulled out of you, his gaze never leaving yours. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment where he had made things right. His love and desire for you were clear in every touch, every kiss, every movement.

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[sweatervest-obsessed]

hello !! rn i'm in the mood for some angst with a happy ending so can i request something where reader's got really bad abandonment issues? 🥹 maybe they fight over something which makes r leave ++ spence is confused bc it's so sudden n unlike them but it's all bc theyre scared he'll leave first n then it's just lots n lots of reassurance🥹🥹 thank you!!

Obsessed.

Thank you for the ask!!

So I wrote you this gorgeous 1k fic. I was so fucking proud of it. And then my computer deleted the WHOLE THING (which is why I am so behind on responding to this lmao). But. I rewrote as much of it as possible, and then changed and added a few things. So now it's better than before.

I really enjoy this version ,and I hope you do too!! so please enjoy!!!!!

WC: 1.5k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

TW: Anxiety, depression, intrusive thoughts, self-destructive tendencies, swearing, abandonment issues lmao

“What do you mean….”

You couldn’t look at him. How could you? I mean, leaving the love of your life because you know he could never love you back in the way you love him. He’d just leave anyways.

They all do.

You’re just trying to minimize the pain.

But why did it hurt so fucking much.

Which was why you kept your gaze anywhere but him.

“I-I-I—“ You kept your gaze on the ground. “I can’t do t-this anymore Spencer.”

“Can’t do what. Y/n you aren’t making any sense. What’s going on?”

You should you head. “It’s over. Spencer.”

"Y/n what are you..."

Looking at the ground, you began to fidget, something about his gaze on you was making he whole situation worse. Originally you were going to just send him a text and disappear for the rest of your life, but he came home early. He wasn't supposed to be home for another day.

"Spencer I-I." You flexed your hands, trying to find the right words. "It's done Spence. I can't.."

"You can't what?" His voice was a whisper. You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, but you wouldn't dare look at him. If you looked at him, you would cave and stay and he would take your heart in his hands and crush it to dust.

But why did this hurt so much?

"What is going on Y/n. Talk to me."

You couldn't understand why he was being so caring. Why was he so fucking perfect. It felt like a sick joke that the universe gave you this perfect man, and then put the sinking feeling in your gut when it got too good. Like something was going to go wrong.

And you wanted to be ahead of it. Start the grieving process now before you got too deep.

It's too late for that anyways.

His voice was soft. He didn't move towards you. He didn't want to 'spook' you---he knew you so well.

You know him so well.

Clearly, whatever tactic you had tried to employ when he came home, wasn't working, so you decided to shift. You shifted to the anger resting in your gut. The hot and heavy coals that burned through your skin and made you seeth with anger.

"Y/n, please, look at me."

You couldn't. And he fucking knew that too. You stormed past him and towards the bedroom.

Spencer was speechless, completely unsure as to what was going on.

When he arrived home you had been shoving things into your suitcase, but then when you saw him you froze up and started to try and break up with him.

"Talk to me. What is going on?"

You ignored him and started to pull clothes out of their respective drawers and onto the bed you two shared. It was hectic, and aggressive. You were slamming things, stomping--anything to hide the slight tremor in your hands, and make you seem bigger than you were.

"Y/n!"

His voice made you jump but it didn't stop you. You took the pang of guilt in your stomach and tried to twist it into the anger you so desperately tried to justify.

Spencer slowly moved over to you and tried to take you hand.

"NO." You threw the small pile of clothes you had just taken from the closet on to the ground and pulled away quickly. "No Spencer god. Wh-what don't you fucking get. We're done. It's over."

Spencer rarely heard you raise your voice, let alone yell, and definitely never at him. But you weren't even looking at him.

You fucking hated it when he profiled you. It made your skin crawl when you felt his eyes roaming over you. "Look at me."

His voice wasn't hateful. It wasn't angry. It was soft, understanding.

God why did he have to make this so fucking hard.

"Y/n..."

"Spencer. Stop."

You felt the moment he realized what was happening in your brain., You weren't the easiest to read, but you weren't exactly a closed book either.

"Look at me."

You looked up and made eye contact with him, hoping that the last part of your will would hold strong, and get you through this.

Spencer's eyes were filled with worry and disbelief. You saw the swarm of emotions as he locked eyes with you. But behind all of the disbelief and concern and love and pain was fear. You could see the pain he was so desperately trying to hide from you.

You know him so well.

Spencer could see the straight fire in yours. They were lit with a facade of anger and pain and hatred. But you could never hate Spencer. Never. And he saw right through it. He could see the panic in your eyes. The pure terror and pain.

You hated that he knew you so well.

"Y/n..."

He took one step forward, not trying to corner you, but trying to get closer to you. You took one step back.

"No." You shook your head.

"Please just talk to me."

Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid wonderful voice and his kind eyes and his love and the way he knows exactly how you take your tea in the morning and all of your favorite books and why you love the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice so much and what animals you wanted to have one day and why you hated spiders and the ocean so much and which museums and monuments you had on your bucket list. Fuck this man for loving you so hard, and making you want to spend every single moment of your life with him.

"I-I--" and fuck him for making your voice crack. You took another small step backwards.

"Please." Another step forward.

This time, all you could do was shake your head and break eye contact. You were tensing up the closer he got to you.

"Y/n."

"N-No" You chooked on your own voice. A single tear broke through and slide down your cheek.

"Baby please..." Another step. "Just talk to me. What's going on?"

That was the final straw for you.

The dam broke, and tears poured down your face. You let out the most heartbreaking sob that Spencer could have never imagined.

His arms were quickly around you, catching you and bringing you both down to the floor, where he held you against his chest.

You shook your head and tried to escape from his grasp, but he just held on tighter to you, not letting you go. Spencer could never let you go, he just didn't know how to tell you that.

Through your tears, you started to hyper ventilate. Spencer wouldn't let you leave his arms. It felt like a boa constrictor. You couldn't breathe.

You started to panic, not taking in as much air as you should, causing your head to get dizzy. You tugged on Spencer's arms as he tightened his grip on you, determined to keep you safe in his arms while you got whatever it was out of your system.

You screamed at him to let you go. He didn't respond, only holding you against his chest and you angrily slammed your hands against it.

Why was he so fucking perfect. Why couldn't he just let you leave and walk away.

Fuck.

Once your breathing had started to even out a bit, Spencer adjusted the two of you, still on the ground, so that you were straddling his lap with your arms around his neck.

Surrounding you was all of your clothes thrown about, and your suit case barely filled with anything.

He didn't say anything, just continued to rub his thumb against your hip, letting you come down from whatever sort of panic you just went through.

He held you close to his body, deciding in that moment to never let you go, ever.

You felt the world slow down. Time melted beneath you as the sun rose and set, the moon waxed and waned, The leaves browned and fell of the trees, and the earth stopped spinning at the end of time and all of the stars had died out. The world had stopped but you were still in Spencer's arms.

"I don't know..." He whispered in your ear, and the world started to turn again. "What just happened in your head--"

You tried to speak up but he just shushed you gently. "But we don't have to talk about it until you're ready."

You nodded.

What did you do in this world to deserve this man?

"Why don't we make some tea?" He whispered, and you just nodded again, holding onto Spencer as if the floor was going to give out and cause you to fall through the pits of hell and judgment, away from one another.

Neither of you went to move, finding peace in one another's arms.

While Spencer truly had no idea what just occurred, or why it occurred, he was still sitting here with you. And while you owed Spencer an apology and an explanation, he was still sitting here with his arms wrapped around you, kissing your shoulders.

Spencer Reid was going to stay with you for as long as you'd let him, and he would do anything to get you to see that, even if it meant sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, holding you until the stars burned out and the world stopped spinning.

[avis-writeshq]

06 — untouchable

summary: “come on, come on, say that we’ll be together/”i’m caught up in you.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn,  warnings: rated 16+ for two mentions of nakedness, short blood mention, brief mention of dead things, mostly canon compliant (s4 e23 ‘amplification’), wc: 4.3k a/n: thank you again to the lovely @astrophileous for beta-reading <3 good luck on your thesis babes MWAH SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

38 Hours Before the Phone Call – Monday, 8:42AM, BAU Office

Spencer arrives at the office with a stupidly giddy smile on his face. His cheeks are flushed as he grips a hot takeaway cup of coffee in his hands. He taps the cup idly with his fingers, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he steps out of the elevator unable to shake the smile off his face. It’s ridiculous and insane and borderline delusional but he knows it’s far from that. After all, he has a perfectly good reason as to why he is in such high spirits and that reason is you. After years of pining and psyching himself up (only to psych himself out) he managed to actually ask you out on a date. And, he reminds himself with a silly smile, he actually kissed you. And it wasn’t one of those platonic kisses, no, this was an actual kiss to the lips and he couldn’t be happier. 

He thinks back to the previous night, visualising the way your cheeks grew warm and the way your lips felt against his. His own cheeks flush at the thoughts and he remembers committing that version of you to memory. How on earth are you so beautiful? Even while sleep deprived with dark bags under your eyes or unruly hair, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek comments in a teasing sing-songy voice as Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant. “Ooh, I know that look.”

Spencer chokes a little, wiping his mouth with a tissue in his bag. “What look?”

“Someone got lucky last night,” Derek responds with a grin. “It must be the hair. I heard that long hair gets all the ladies nowadays.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Spencer is quick to deny, walking through the big glass doors of the office. 

“Who got lucky last night?” Emily asks, poking her head out of her little stall. Her eyes flit to Spencer and she grins. “Oh… I see how it is.”

“Nothing happened last night,” Spencer says adamantly, swiping a hand over his face. “It isn’t like that. Whatever we have is good. It doesn’t need to be–” He coughs quietly as blood rushes to his ears– “to be sexual. I like her. More than physically.”

Emily coos at his confession, twisting around her desk to ruffle his hair. “You’re such a gentleman, Reid.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he says through a laugh, swatting Emily’s hands away. “Being a gentleman. Some women prefer it over the whole macho act.”

“Hey, I am plenty gentleman,” Derek says swiftly, holding a finger out. “And chicks dig the macho thing.”

*** 

14 Hours Before the Phone Call – Tuesday, 7:09AM, BAU Office

It was supposed to be a normal morning. It was supposed to be an average Tuesday with your average, run-of-the-mill serial killer with daddy issues but instead, JJ called the entire team in the early hours of the morning, saying to get to the BAU as quickly as possible. 

“Case must be local. JJ said not to bring a go-bag,” Spencer says as they enter the office. 

In moments they were met with a complete arsenal of military personnel, bustling around their desks and storming throughout the office. Others were answering and sending phone calls, demanding for processes to be sped up as Hotch speaks to a group of people in his own personal office, Rossi beside him.

“What’s the army doing here?” Derek asks, his brows furrowed.

“What the hell is going on?” Emily demands, eyeing the uniformed professionals as they splay casefiles across their desks. 

They all enter the conference room where JJ was waiting for them, along with a neatly dressed Asian woman with her hair tied up in a ponytail and out of her face. 

“Guys, this is Dr Linda Kimura, Chief of Special Pathogens at the CDC,” JJ introduces, filling up styrofoam cups with water and placing them around the round table. 

“Hello. I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances,” she says as she places pills on a shiny metal tray. 

Spencer frowns at that. “What circumstances?”

Hotch enters the room instantly, gripping a case file in his iron fist. “We need to get started.”

“Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after 2PM yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It’s now just past 7AM the next day, we have twelve people dead,” JJ explains as the rest of team look through the manilla files. 

“Lung failure and black lesions,” Derek murmurs thoughtfully. “Anthrax?”

Spencer flicks through the papers, scanning the tox screen. “Anthrax doesn’t kill this fast.”

“This strain does,” Kimura says, an edge of fear in her tone.

“What are we doing about potential mass targets– airports, malls, trains?” Emily asks, turning to Hotch who shakes his head. 

“There’s a media blackout.”

“We’re not telling the public?”

Derek looks over at Emily. “We’d have a mass exodus.”

“The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack,” Rossi explains.

“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples,” Spencer says as he sifts through the papers. 

“Or if they wanted attention and didn’t get it, they might attack again. Doesn’t the public have the right know that?” 

“If there is another attack, there’s no way we’ll be able to keep it quiet,” Hotch says urgently. “Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can.”

Spencer wets his bottom lip nervously, his thoughts drifting to you. You work indoors all day. You’ll be fine, you have to be. “What do we know about this strain?”

“The spores are weaponized,” Kimura explains, “reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odourless and invisible.”

Rossi nods, almost as if he wasn’t surprised at all upon hearing the news. “A sophisticated strain. Only a scientist would know how to do that.”

“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours,” Derek points out, gesturing to the less than positive crime photos in their files. 

“It’s not the lesions I’m worried about,” Kimura begins, taking an ultrasound scan of a patient’s lungs and presenting it to the team. “Its the lungs. We don’t know how to com2bat the toxins once they’re inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”

“The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed Hospital. Our offices will become a small command centre,” JJ tells them.

“We’ll be working with military scientists from Fort Detrick,” Hotch adds on.

“General Whitworth is coming here?” Rossi asks.

Hotch nods in the affirmative. “He’s in charge of sit containment and spore analysis. Determining what strain this is will help inform who’s responsible.”

“My team is in charge of treating all victims,” Kimura goes on to tell the team, looking at each person.

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital, interview the victims,” Hotch says, dishing out responsibilities. “Morgan and Prentiss, there’s a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. There’s Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

Linda hands a small plastic container, each one having two round tablets resting inside. “We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something.”

Emily lets out a nervous breath as she toys with the rim of the container. “This… is really happening?

“We knew this could happen. We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it,” Hotch says as reassuringly as possible before knocking his head back and taking the two Cipro tablets. 

“Cent’anni,” Rossi toasts, holding the little container out. “May you live one hundred years.”

*** 

Everyone rushes about, gathering files and resources before the head off to complete their allocated assignments. Regardless of how much is at stake in this certain situation, Spencer feels his heart spike with anxiety. It’s against protocol, sure, but shouldn’t he call you? Tell you to take a sick day and stay at home, or to just stay indoors the entire time you’re at work. Maybe if he’s lucky he could get you into witness protection. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hotch says slowly, seemingly appearing out of thin air behind him. 

Spencer freezes, his hands pausing as they rummage through his bag in search of his cell. “I’m not.”

“You’re not thinking?” Hotch asks, raising an eyebrow. “I know what you want to do.”

“I can’t just– I can’t just keep her in the dark, Hotch,” Spencer insists, continuing to feel for his cell phone. “She could get infected and–” His mouth runs dry at the idea and he swallows thickly. “If I can protect her, then why shouldn’t I?

Aaron sighs, his forehead wrinkling as his eyebrows knit together. “I know you care about her and I know you’re worried, but she isn’t on this team anymore. If we all called home and used this information to give them the advantage that other people don’t have… is that really the right thing to do?”

“Don’t give me a moral dilemma, Hotch. This isn’t a hypothetical,” Spencer counters, finally finding the little device buried at the bottom of his satchel. “When I– when the incident with Tobias Hankel happened, she never gave up on me. She went out on a limb for me. I’m returning the favour.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment before finally, “What about the guilt?”

Spencer balks. “What?”

“If she is saved because of the information you gave her… can you imagine the guilt she would feel? She’s a selfless person, Spencer, and knowing her… well, you can guess what she would do,” Aaron says, glancing back to his office where Rossi is waving him over. “I’m sure you’ll make the right decision. Kimura is waiting for you.”

Hotch is gone before Spencer could say anything. He huffs quietly, guilty after hearing Hotch’s words. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he has to accept that his boss is right. The best way to keep you safe is by finding this UnSub before he could hurt any more people. He rubs at his eyes in frustration, stalking out of the BAU offices. Hopefully you’ll forgive him.

*** 

“Dr. Lawrence Nichols? Yeah, I read about him. He was highly respected doctor who studied anthrax prior to the attacks in 2001,” Spencer says as he gets into the passenger seat of Derek’s SUV. He rolls up the sleeves of his dark purple shirt, brushing some sweat from his forehead. “They think that he’s behind it?”

“There was a video of him at a conference with the with the National Defense Committee. He was paranoid after the Amerithrax attacks in 2001, proposing some crazy high budget to ‘protect the people of America’,” Derek explains. “He matches the profile exactly. Prentiss and Rossi are heading to his work. Apparently he got demoted into working with influenza.”

Spencer grimaces as he stares at the overgrowing rose bushes at the front of Dr. Nichols’s house, his nose scrunching up in distaste. Do people not hire gardeners anymore? He squeezes past a few bushes to follow Derek closer to the house, hissing when his hand gets caught on one of the thorns. He shakes his hand out, a scratch already blooming on the back of his hand with small droplets ot blood already emerging. 

He continues to walk into the house as Derek’s phone rings, entering the house through a glass sliding door. The whirring of the fan above him grabs his attention and he frowns. The fan is on but the door is open… someone must have left in a hurry. He takes another step forward, jolting when he hears the sound of glass being crushed under his feet. Shit.

“Reid?” Derek yells, and Spencer jumps. 

“Morgan, get– get back!” Spencer yells, slamming the sliding door shut so hard that the glass shakes. “Get back! Get out of here!”

Derek frowns, tugging at the handle. ‘What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

“No, don’t!”

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks again, tugging once more at the handle; Spencer is a lot stronger than he expected.

“What’s wrong?”

Spencer pushes his hair out of his face in frustration as he locks the door, turning back to his friend. “I’m sorry.”

It is in that moment that Derek’s eyes turn to the ground, his eyes widening in disbelief as he sees the white powder in the room leaking from a broken test tube with a bright yellow symbol for ‘biological hazard’. 

It feels like hours before Hotch and the military arrive at the house, along with an ambulance and a hazmat team. The stench of Dr. Nichols’s dead body lingers in the air even though the air-con is blasting and the air is circulating through the room. He doesn’t even want to think about the dead animals and test subjects in the cages, his stomach churning at the mere thought. From what he could tell, the doctor was dead three days ago, meaning that he couldn’t have been the one to infect those people at the park. His head is pounding and his throat itches and all of a sudden he can’t breathe. He tells himself to relax but how can he when he very well could die in here? He knows the statistics; only 55% of those who receive aggressive treatment survive. He doesn’t like those odds. 

“Hotch, I really messed up this time,” he says hoarsely into the phone, wiping the sweat off his upper lip.

“Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital,” Hotch says firmly, and Spencer watches as he puts the call on speaker. 

“What– no, I’m staying right here,” Spencer insists, frowning. 

Derek interrupts swiftly, “No, you’re not, Reid.”

“I’m already exposed,” Spencer says, his voice straining as he turns back into Dr. Nichols’s makeshift lab. “It’s not gonna do me any good to stop working the case.”

General Whitworth grimaces in response. “He’s already infected. Now, if Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure.”

“My best chance is to stay here, see if there’s a cure, and try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols,” Spencer insists as he searches through the lab for what seems like the millionth time. 

Test tubes, files, and text books litter the lab, a flurry of papers splayed across the floor. The sight of them remind him of the first time he met you when you had ran into him on his first official day at the BAU. You were a swirling rainstorm as you practically slammed your head against his chest, the paperwork you were carrying flying into the air as you toppled over like a house of cards. In that moment, Spencer could have sworn that you were untouchable. You were like a fire, burning brighter than the sun, and he would be damned if he ever made that flame flicker away. 

“Come on, Hotch, say something to him,” Derek tries again, worry laced in his tone.

Aaron hesitates as he considers his options before sighing. “He’s right. His best chase is inside. We’re gonna get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother, it’s not going to do me any good. I’m already infected.” Spencer knows that if you were still part of the team that you would be scolding him about being so stubborn. Hell, you’re not even on the team anymore and you still scold him about it. 

As he continues to try and search for more clues and filtering the information he finds through to Derek, his thoughts continuously drift back to you. You and your blissfully unaware state. He thinks of the way you smile and the way you felt in his arms that day. He is sure that the universe is playing tricks with him because the one moment he finally has you, you’re ripped away from him. His mind wanders back to the way your eyes lit up and the way your lips felt against his and in that moment he’s begging. He’s begging whatever higher power there is that he is part of the 55% of people who survive an anthrax attack after treatment. 

“Hey, Reid,” Penelope’s voice echoes through the phone, sad and mopey. It’s unlike her, incredibly uncharacteristic and Spencer chokes out a quiet laugh. 

“Reid? Wow, no, uh… no witty Garcia greeting for me?” He asks, running his fingers through his damp sweaty hair. It’s disgusting and gross and he hates it because he knows that it’s a symptom of the disease. 

Penelope chuckles weakly from the other side of the line. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that so instead he asks, “Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I… I know I can’t call… I know I can’t call (Y/N) or my mother without, uh–” he coughs, wiping his face with the palm of his hand and feeling his clammy skin– “without alerting everyone.”

“What do you need?”

“I– uh– I need you to record a message. Two messages. One for my mother and the other for… for (Y/N). In case anything happens to me.” His voice cracks as he speaks, his hand trembling because oh God, this really could be the end. After everything he went through going to those Narcotics Anonymous meetings, getting clean, going to therapy… this is how it ends?

“Oh, nothing is gonna happen to you,” Garcia says, wholeheartedly believing it. “You’re gonna brilliantly find ut who did this and we’re gonna treat this strain.”

Spencer lets out a nervous breath. “I hope you’re right. But if you’re not, I just… I really want to make sure that they hear my voice. Both of them.”

“Okay. Just– just give me a second,” Penelope mumbles, clicking away on her keyboard. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“This– um, it’s for my mum first…” He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice even. “Hi, mum. This is Spencer. I just– I just really want you to know that I love you, and– and I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.”

Penelope presses pause on that message, murmuring, “Okay. And– and for (Y/N)?”

“Is it on?” He asks quietly, coughing as the itchiness in his throat refuses to relent. “Hey, angel, it’s me, Spenc– Walter. It’s your Walter.” His voice catches in his throat as he speaks, tears slipping past his eyes as he tries to choke out the words. “If you’re getting this then something happened and I just wanted you to know that– that– that I love you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before but I do. I love you and I wish it didn’t turn out like this but I am– I am so glad that we had that moment.”

“Reid?”

Dr. Kimura enters the room through the sliding door, clad in a bright red hazmat suit. “Prep the victim for transfer.”

“I gotta go,” Spencer says quickly, hanging up the call and pocketing his phone. 

“Dr. Reid,” Kimura says, walking over to him.

“You look nice,” he says drily, staring at the uniform. It looks very similar to an astronaut costume and if he were in any other situation, he would have started to laugh.

Kimura chuckles quietly. “I haven’t been in this outfit for a while.”

“How… how are the patients doing?” Spencer manages to ask, and suddenly it feels as if all the air is kicked out of his lungs. His head throbs with each attempt he makes to take in a breath and sweat pools at the top of his lip. 

“Let’s worry about you.”

“I actually… I feel fine,” Spencer lies through gritted teeth, the muscles in his shoulders aching with each heave of his chest. 

Kimura nods, her concern palpable. “Okay, if you feel any pain, I can give you something.”

In an instant, the fear of losing all the progress he has made in the past year pools to his stomach and he shakes his head adamantly, ignoring the way the room spins. “No, I’d rather not take any pain medication.”

“We can at least make you feel more comfortable.”

“I am comfortable and I don’t want to take any narcotics!” Spencer says firmly, and he can see the realisation dawn in Kimura’s eyes. 

“Okay… tell me how I can help.”

“I think the cure for this strain is in here somewhere,” he says through heavy breaths, sucking in a mouthful of air with every sentence. 

It isn’t long before the hazmat team has Spencer in a decontamination tent, the smell of sterile plastic filling his nose. They’re hosing him down behind a clear plastic curtain, Derek standing in front of him. The feeling of the cold water splashing against his back is uncomfortable, and Spencer grimaces at the feeling of his clothes sticking to his skin. It’s gross and his work shirt is growing heavy from the waterweight, sagging down on his shoulders. The anthrax isn’t helping either. It’s too hot and too cold all at once, it’s too hard to breathe and it’s like his head weighs a million pounds. 

“Go help Hotch,” Spencer croaks out to Derek, shivering as they continue to spray water on his back and front.

“Hotch has plenty of people helping him,” Derek dismisses. 

Spencer shakes his head and regrets it immediately, his head starting to spin. “He needs you more than I do.”

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.”

“I’m about to get naked so that they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?” Spencer deadpans.

Derek grimaces before finally saying, “What if (Y/N) were here? Would you tell her to go?”

“(Y/N)  wouldn’t mind seeing me naked.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot upwards at Spencer’s less than innocent words, immediately turning away. “We are having a conversation about this later. Take good care of him, please.”

The ambulance is stuffy and cramped, and the scrubs that he has to wear is itchy and uncomfortable. They’re menial thoughts that don’t even matter considering the severity of the situation, and Spencer wheezes out of a cough; a reminder that he might not even live to see the next day. The nasal cannula that is attached to Spencer’s nose isn’t doing much to assist him to breathe, and he coughs again. 

“How are you feeling, Dr. Reid?” Kimura asks as she checks his vitals. 

“My throats a little dry, but other than that I feel– I flee– feel…” He blanks. His mind knows the words but they get stuck on his tongue and he panics. It can’t end like this. He refuses for it to end like this. “Flee– fleel– I–”

Kimura nods in understanding, a sense of urgency behind her words. “Okay. Okay, you’re doing okay. Driver, faster!”

“Call–” Spencer tries again, the words spinning in his head. “Pelen– Penel… low… len…”

Call Penelope, he tries to say, the lights in the ambulance growing brighter and brighter. She needs to give (Y/N) the message, she needs to… she needs to…

All he sees is white.

*** 

The first thing Spencer notices when he regains consciousness is the smell of lavender and oranges overpowering the sterile scent of antibacterial wipes. It’s comforting and familiar and he wracks his brain as he tries to remember where he remembers it from. He doesn’t remember much; only getting into the ambulance and Kimura asking him questions. He shuffles around in his hospital bed, stretching his aching muscles. He forces his eyes open little by little, and he quints at the woman at the end of his hospital bed. 

“(Y/N)?”

“You ass,” you respond tearfully, your voice cracking as you swat him lightly on the arm. “You refused treatment?”

He smiles a little, sitting up on the bed. “Hey, angel.”

“Don’t ‘hey angel’ me,” you sniffle, taking hold of his hand and stroking his palm with your thumb. “You scared me.”

Spencer hums softly in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand back. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. Kimura said that you should be free to go in a couple of days but you need rest afterwards,” you tell him, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You owe me a date.”

“I do,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed and a giddy smile on his face despite where he is. He looks at you, you and his oversized CalTech hoodie. The hoodie in itself is ugly; a muted grey with a half-assed logo slapped to the front and Spencer has hated it ever since he bought it with what little funds he had back in college. Yet, for some reason, he doesn’t hate it so much when you wear it. “You look beautiful.”

You roll your pretty eyes at him, moving your chair closer to him. “Liar.”

“Never,” he whispers. “Never to you.”

You smile at him again, bringing your lips to the back of his hand. “You told me you loved me. Is that true, too?”

“Love,” he corrects you quietly, “and I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

Heat rushes up your neck at his words and you beam at him, kissing his cheeks. “I love you.”

He reaches a hand out to hold the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the line from your ear to your jaw. “I love you,” he says into the space between you, before kissing you again. 

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full masterlist

reblogs are always appreciated !!

[gogomatthew]

Request: (Smut)

Hotch gives Spencer the lead on a new case. And when Y/N doesn’t do what Spencer said to do- well let’s say when they get home she gets punished.

Just you wait

SPENCER REID X FEM!READER

summary: being from a different department and working with your fiancé was always great except but things change when you don’t seem to obey his orders

warnings: choking • punishment • spanking • sub!dom dynamics • cursing • arguing • bj • PV •

a/n: english isn’t my first language so I apologize for any gramatical errors! I don’t really see Spencer as a dom tbh so this was a little difficult for me to write sorry if its not exactly what you wanted honestly it was rushed :/

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!! 18+ SMUT AHEAD

“I dont feel great about this just so you know” Emily says as you both enter the DCPD. “You think I do? but we can’t prioritize feelings over case right now” Emily sighs as you squeeze the orange envelope filled with new pictures of the crime scene between your fingers subconsciously releasing your stress onto it with a deep breath.

You see a lanky figure make his way towards both of you with a glare of disbelief plastered on his face. “You went behind my back?” though his tone is angry theres hurt laced between his words. “Im sorry but we found new evidence that-” he cuts you off “I dont care right now! Im leading this case and I told everyone to stay away from the scene until further notice. You cant just ignore my authority!” his eyes switch back and forth between you and Emily

“I work for a different department” Emily just sighs and throws her hands up in surrender as she walk away past Spencer after realizing the conflict just got a little personal. Spencer runs his hands down his face in defeated frustration causing his words to come out slightly muffled “Am I joke to you? seriously am I? I know you work for a different department but you never seem to have a problem obeying Hotch..” his hands fall back to his sides as he grabs the envelope from you and storms off leaving you there with your thoughts.

For some cases your department sent you out as the traveling detective to help out the BAU and you never had a problem working along side your fiancé I mean this job is what brought you both together but having him as your acting boss was slightly different. Its not that you didn’t respect his authority you just didn’t understand his judgment at this moment. He knew how your job functioned and always did his best to help you with whatever you needed but right now he was stopping you from doing your job and you were worried about him but there were victims at risk.

Hypothetically he would’ve been fine if..

If Hotch wasn’t hovering

If the geographical range wasnt so large

If the building wasnt so loud

If the PD didn’t see him as joke

if it wasn’t dangerous for his agents to leave the building alone

ect,, there were too many thoughts taking over and none of them were good.

Thankfully the evidence you and Emily found was crucial to the investigation and even though he was still under immense stress you felt as if at least you took a little weight off Spencers shoulders although that didint mean he was pleased with your actions. He avoided you throughout the day even after the unsub was caught not even breaking the silence on the car ride home. Before you can even finish parking Spencer is stepping out of the car and entering your shared apartment before you.

You make your way inside not too long after him with tears of pent up frustration brimming your eyes and threatening to fall only for those thoughts to be forgotten as your head gently hits the wall. Spencer has you pinned by his large hand lightly squeezing your neck the way he knows you love as his other hand holds both of your wrists between his fingers. “what was that today? first you ignore my authority..” a squeeze to your neck as his raspy voice lingers closer to your slightly open mouth “and then you humiliate me?” another squeeze and the tears fall alongside a whimper “why’re you crying baby? you know I just wanna keep you safe and thats why I couldn’t let you go to the scene” his tone is genuine care mixed with condensation as he looks you up and down hungrily “but you just had to ignore me and im gonna have to make you learn your lesson” his grip on your throat loosens as his hand gently strokes your face wiping away your tears “m- sorry” you choke out as he ghosts his lips over yours, his hot breath makes your thighs clench.

“I know you are but its too late now” his grip on you loosens and he pushes you down harshly to your knees as he undoes his belt without a word. As he frees his cock from his boxers he gives it 2 slow strokes “open” he simply says and you obey, taking him into your mouth eagerly. What you cant fit into your mouth you pump with you hand causing his breath to hitch at the stimulation. Spencer strokes his finger through your hair before fisting it and thrusting his hips into your mouth. He’s vocal and hes not shy about it, his moans come out strained and loud as you feel his dick twitch on your tongue getting ready to have your throat welcome in his load despite your gagging until he pushes you away “d-dont wanna cum yet.. gonna make you beg for it first” he says out of breath as he lifts you off the ground and into the bedroom.

“take it off.. I want a show” with a gulp you start unbuttoning your blouse slowly trying not to seem to desperate and take your pants off as he eyes you lustfuly. You are completely nude to him as his shirt and boxers remain “come here” you walk over to him cautiously and he sits you down on his thigh resting his hands on your hips slowly rocking you back and forth causing a moan to drop from your parted lips. “mm” you start rocking yourself faster as he removes his touch from you depriving you “please” he fake pouts “please what? I need to hear it” a desperate cry leaves your mouth knowing you wont be able to cum just from his thigh “I need you” he chuckles “need what? my fingers?” his hand cups your dripping cunt teasing your entrance with his fingers “n-no your-” a whimper leaves your throat “your cock”

one last look at you and he’s flipping you over so hes caging your body under his own. He grabs his dick in his hand and pushes it into your entrance without warning or giving you time to adjust. His hand finds its way back to your throat making your sounds of pain and pleasure sound strained. His thrusts dont have a rhythm theyre just ruthless and fast. “hah- ah you crying? im just correcting your behavior” his cock brushes your g spot so good it makes you forget how to talk “you know that right baby?” now this is condescending but you cant find it in you to care right now, the pleasure taking over “say it.. say you deserve this” his hold on your throat releasing so he can hold onto the bed frame to go deeper against your sensitive spot “ahh say it” with a yelp you manage to push the words out “I-I deserve t-this” his thrust dont let up it just fuels him on even more “wasnt gonna let you c-cum tonight but I think id rather fuck you stupid ah- what’d you think about that?” he knows you’re already seconds away from your orgasm as your eyes start rolling to the back of your head and you cant provide any actual words. His free hand makes its way down to your clit desperate to make you his own little fuck toy. Your legs start shaking erratically and without a warning you cum all over spencers aching cock with him hot on your heels. You pant but before you have time to catch your breath you’re roughly flipped over onto your stomach as a rough slap lands on your ass

“im not done with you yet”

[futuremrsreid]

Redemption (S.R.)

Summary: When Spencer risks his life on a case and doesn't want to see how dangerous it was, reader tries to talk some sense into him. It results in a lot of yelling and some other things.

A/N: So..... smutty angst, as promised <3 I hurt myself while writing this. Enjoy.

Content Warning: Smut (18+), very very mildly dubious consent, a bit of dark Spencer but he's just traumatized, angst, sad, dominant Spencer, kinda sub reader

Word Count: 4,1k

I was pissed. Actually, pissed didn’t even begin to describe the rage I felt at that moment. 

We were currently in Florida, hunting another psychopathic bastard as always. Everything was fine and under control, up until the moment Dr. Spencer fucking Reid decided it would be a good idea to drive to the unsubs location alone because he was “closest to him” and because we “didn’t have time” and nearly got himself killed in the process. Luke and I had arrived just in time to prevent disaster, but Spencer still got a few bruises on his face. 

I was furious and let him feel it by yelling at him while he was getting checked out in the ambulance. But like always, my yelling resulted in his yelling. We went at it for a couple of minutes but Emily put a stop to it before it got really bad, concerned about the reporters at the scene who already started to take a few pictures of us.

:keep reading:

We didn’t talk or look at each other for the rest of the case. Emily let Spencer get away with it because everything turned out fine, but I was not feeling gracious. 

When Garcia informed us that there was a storm that would delay our flight for the next couple of hours, Emily decided that we should just spend another night in the city and fly back in the morning. We all drove back to the hotel and when we arrived, I was on Spencer's heels all the way from the car to his room. He didn’t even try to stop me, he knew there was no point to it.

“That was so fucking irresponsible, Spencer! What were you thinking”, I started to yell as soon as I had closed the door behind me. I wanted to say “stupid” instead of “irresponsible” but decided against it. I wanted him to understand that he can’t do shit like this, and not insult him.

“It worked out fine, y/n. I don’t understand why you’re getting yourself worked up over this!” He rubbed his hand over the side of his face, clearly done listening to me.

“It only worked out fine because Luke broke like every rule you can break in traffic to get to the scene as fast as possible!”

“Oh right, Luke, my hero. I should go thank him, don’t you think?” he chuckled humorlessly and rolled his eyes.

“Maybe! He’s the reason you’re not dead.” I tried lowering my voice. This wasn’t our first fight, and I have learned in the past that screaming won’t help.

“I would have been fine! I had it under control, y/n. God, just leave me alone”, he spat and I felt a stabbing in my chest at the way he didn’t want to see how much danger he put himself in.

This wasn’t the first time he risked his life like that and I hated it. All of us hated it. Spencer seemed drawn to dangerous situations, it had been that way when I joined the team and from stories the others told me, it had been this way before that.

When I met Spencer, he was freshly out of Prison. They hired me together with Matt after Agent Walker died. The first time I saw him, I knew I had to befriend him. What I didn’t know was how easy it would be and how much easier it would be to fall in love with him. 

I tried to push it down, to get rid of it, scared that it would ruin everything, but there was no way of falling out of love with him, which made the situation even harder. Spencer didn’t seem to realize how much he hurt me whenever he risked his life like this. I wasn’t even sure he realized how much I cared about him. 

“I’m not going to leave until you admit that you were wrong.” 

“Well, this is going to be a long night then, because that’s never gonna happen.” He turned and walked away from me, removing his suit jacket and draping it over one of the chairs in his room. I sighed.

“Spencer, you need to stop risking your life like this. You're gonna get yourself killed”, I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. I tried to get him to look at me, but he avoided my eyes. “Please. I can’t lose you and especially not like that.”

“The day will come when you and the rest of the team realize that this is exactly the way it is supposed to end for me. Dying in the field would be an honorable death. It’s the only redemption I will ever get.” 

“What?”, I breathed and my heart stopped for a moment, “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“I meant what I said.” 

“Redemption? What redemption, Spence? You don’t need any, you haven’t done anything wrong.” I was confused and hurt by the way he said it. It sounded almost suicidal. 

“Yes, I have. I have done horrible things in my life, y/n. I will never be able to make up for them.” 

“You don’t have to! Everyone makes mistakes. You are a good person Spencer. You’re kind and gentle, you saved hundreds of lives in your career, you don’t need to make up for anything.” I tried to get through to him, but it was like I was hitting a wall.

“Prison changed me, it turned me into a different man. I’m not nearly as gentle or kind as I used to be.”

“I don’t know you any other way. I almost can’t imagine you being even more gentle than you are now. I don’t think anyone can be.”

“I was though”, he countered almost immediately, still unable to look at me, “I think you would have liked the man I was. He was gentler, kinder, and more deserving of you than I could ever be now.” He didn’t even sound sad when he said it, almost like he had accepted his truth from the moment he met me. 

“You know, you talk about yourself like you are the worst man in the world”, I said in an accusatory tone.

“Am I not?”, Spencer scoffed, raising his voice slightly while going on, “We hunt terrible men every day but in the end, how different am I from them? What makes me a good man and them a bad one, y/n?” He was almost yelling now, stunning me for a moment too long. When I didn’t reply, he turned to finally look at me. “Tell me y/n, what is it about me that convinces you I’m not every bit as bad as them?” The desperate look on his face made me take a step toward him but for every step I took, he stepped two back.

“Spencer, I-” My voice faltered and I didn’t know what to say. I knew he wasn’t anything like them but I wasn’t able to find any words that would convince him. When my mouth stayed open but no words left it, he took my silence as an invitation to go on.

“I almost killed Cat Adams, did JJ ever tell you that?” He spat, walking over to me and pushing me back until I hit the wall. 

“I put my hands around her throat and choked her until she was clawing at my wrists. And I didn’t stop then”, he moved even closer to me and I was unable to move away, the words leaving his mouth freezing me into place, “I told her that I was going to kill her and I meant it. I would have strangled her if JJ hadn’t pulled me off her.” He moved even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Her eyes were filled with fear, and you know what? I enjoyed it, y/n. I loved the way I scared her, the way she struggled for her life against me.”

He leaned in and I felt his breath ghost over my ear when he said the last words of his cruel monologue. “So tell me, y/n. Tell me how different I am from those men.”

He stayed where he was, his hands at his side and his mouth grazing my ear. He was trying to intimidate me with his speech and to be honest, he would have convinced me if it hadn’t been for the way his nose brushed against my hair, inhaling my scent like he was convinced this was the last chance he ever had to commit it to memory. 

“You can’t scare me with your words, Spencer. If you want me to believe how terrible of a person you are, you’re gonna have to show me because I will never believe it otherwise.” He probably calculated every possible outcome of this situation, but when he pulled back to look at me, I knew that he didn’t expect me to respond like this.

“Cat Adams is a monster who had you tortured and assaulted. She kidnapped your mother. Do you really expect me to feel bad for her? I never even met her. If you want to scare me away, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

There was a long moment of silence where we just watched each other. I thought I managed to break through to him for a second, but Spencer was on a mission to make me despise him, and he was determined to make it happen. His eyes darkened and he straightened up, towering over me.

I felt a sliver of doubt about my faith in him at that moment and he must have seen it cross my eyes because when I lifted a hand to push him back, he harshly grabbed my wrist and spun me around, using his body to push me against the wall. My arm was twisted behind my back and when I started to struggle out of pure instinct he took my other wrist in his hand and held both my arms behind my back, resulting in me being pushed more into the hard surface, my cheek flush against the wall.

When the shock had left me, I opened my mouth to ask him what the fuck he was doing, but Spencer was faster than me. He took his other hand and held it over my mouth.

“Do you believe me now?”, he whispered in my ear and I felt my pulse quickening. “You are so fucking naive y/n and honestly, you’re a little stupid too. What the fuck makes you think I would never hurt you, huh? You don’t know me.” 

It was those last words that took me back to reality because I did know him. I knew the way he brought everyone on the team their favorite food when they were sad. I knew the way his voice got an octave higher when he started talking about something that excited him. 

I knew the way he recited his favorite poems when I struggled to go to sleep after a tough case.

He won't hurt me. 

He would never hurt me.

He would never do something like this.

So, against every instinct in my body, I tried to calm my heart down and closed my eyes. I tried to speak but his hand on my mouth didn’t let me so I jerked my head back and stunned him with my sudden movement long enough to say a few words I knew he definitely didn't want to hear.

“You are all talk Spencer Reid. You would never hurt me and we both know that”, my voice was louder than I had expected and I felt his hand tighten around my wrists, “You can push me against the wall and insult me and tell me the terrible things you could do to me all you want but we both know that you would never lay a hand on me without my permission and you would never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”

His hand loosened and I used this opportunity to free myself of his grip and turn around. He was angry that his plan didn’t work and I saw his hands twitch with restraint, but I wasn’t scared of him. 

He had just proved to me that he was the man I knew he was.

“You’re not an abuser, you’re not a rapist-”

“Shut up.”

“- and you’re not a murderer. That’s what makes you different Spencer.”

“I said shut up!”, he yelled and I did the only thing I knew to do in response to that. I yelled back.

“Or what, Spencer? Are you gonna pin me against the wall and put your hand against my mouth again like the bad person you are, huh?” Spencer got angrier and more frustrated with every word I was saying but I was determined to speak my mind, “You’re gonna shut me up like the scary man you are, Dr. Reid? You’re gonna-” But I didn’t get further than that because in a heartbeat he forced me back against the wall again with his hands on both my cheeks and his lips pressed against mine.

He pulled back, “Please y/n, please shut up”, and the desperate tone in his voice awakened something primal in me.

“If you want me to shut up, you’re gonna have to make me because I will never stop trying to convince you that you are a good man, Spencer.” When he didn’t say anything I went on. “You are kind and gentle and-” 

He kissed me again, and this time I kissed him back until I wasn’t able to breathe anymore. His kisses wandered to my neck then.

“You say I am a good man, but you don’t know the things I thought about doing to you”, he bit the skin on my neck then and I gasped, which seemed to spur him on further, “I want to pin you down and fuck you until you’re crying. I want to make you feel so good that you can’t take it anymore.”

His kisses moved up my neck and to my ear. “ I want to break you into a thousand pieces and put you back together again. I want to ruin you for everyone else, I want to lock you in so that no man can ever look at you again and at the same moment I want to show you off to the entire world because you are the best thing in my life. I want to take you and make you mine”, he cried out, holding my hips in a bruising grip.

“Then take me, Spencer. Take me, break me, ruin me, I don’t care. I am already yours. I have been yours since the moment I met you.” He looked me in the eyes then, searching for any lies, any doubt, and when he didn’t find any, he kissed me another time.

“Say it again”, he demanded and let his hands travel down my body.

“I am yours, Spencer.”

“Again.” His hands roughly shoved up my skirt, his breath warm on my neck.

“I’m yours.” When his hand brushed against the damp panties I was wearing, I sucked in a breath.

“Again.” 

“I’m yours, Spencer. Only yours. Now please do something.” My plea seemed to finally push him over the edge because a second later he was moving the cotton aside and his fingers met wet skin.

He told me “Again.” over and over again, but the longer his fingers were moving inside of me, and the louder the sounds of my pleasure got, the more his demanding turned into begging and it wasn’t until I felt my orgasm wash over me, that he stopped our back and forth to press his lips against mine once more. 

My legs were trembling when he removed his hand from my cunt and the way he looked at me while bringing the same fingers that were inside of me moments ago to my lips didn’t help steady them.

He didn’t need to say anything, I knew exactly what he wanted. I don’t think he was quite prepared for the sight before him when my lips accepted his fingers and my tongue swirled around them though, because Spencer's eyes became even more feral at it.

“Fuck.” He removed his fingers and in only a few seconds removed my shirt, took off my bra, and had my skirt on the floor. I tried taking off his clothes too, but when my fingers started to unbutton his shirt, he gripped my wrists and walked me over to the bed. 

“If I had known that our fight would end in us having sex, I would have waited until we had something better available than a cheap hotel bed”, I breathed out a laugh. I figured he’d laugh as well but he returned a soft “Do you want to stop?”

“God no, but this bed is gonna squeak really loudly”, and this time I was met with a laugh. He didn’t interrupt when I started another attempt to undress him. When I was done with his shirt he finally raised his hands to touch me again and my whole body shivered when his palms made contact with my breasts. Feeling my erect nipples on his skin must have awoken yet another thing in him because the next thing I knew he was throwing me onto the bed. I didn’t even have time for a shocked gasp before he was on me, pinning my wrists down on the mattress.

“You know when I told you I want to ruin you”, he said while letting his hands travel down my body to grip the waistband of my panties, “I really did mean it.” And with that, he ripped the cotton apart and threw it to the side.

He continued to deny me any time for a reaction when he grabbed my thighs and pulled me towards him. His hips took their very rightful place between my thighs and pressed against me. 

We both moaned when his covered bulge pressed against wet and hot skin.

“Beg me to fuck you, y/n.” I think he was expecting me to hesitate, but I was desperate for him to touch me.

“Please fuck me, Spencer,” I moaned and ran my nails down his back.

“Huh, I thought you would put up more of a fight, to be honest.” He sounded disappointed, but his eyes told me that he was relieved I wanted this just as much as he did.

“Do you want me to?”, I still asked, wanting to give him everything he yearned for. 

“Another time. I think we dragged this out long enough for today”, he said and with that, he took off his underwear and I got to see all of him for the first time. I knew he would be beautiful, and it applied to any part of him, but I couldn’t fully conceal my shock at the length of him. 

And that smug bastard smirked. “Don’t worry darling, we'll make it fit.”

And with that, he moved back between my thighs and lined himself up with my entrance. I expected him to at least try and tease me a little but he started to push inside me immediately. 

We locked eyes while we both felt inch after inch of him sink inside of me. It was intense, erotic and so intimate that I felt the urge to look away. He must have felt it too, because when he was fully buried inside of me, his lips pressed against mine in a bruising way.

When he started to move and his lips started their way down to my jaw and neck, I completely lost it, moans and whimpers flowing from my mouth in a volume that even surprised myself. Spencer thrust harder and deeper the louder I became.

“I know you were worried about the bed being too loud, but I’m pretty sure your moans are covering that sound up pretty successfully, angel”, he panted with a labored breath and heat rose to my cheeks. I was trying to remember if any of our coworkers shared any walls with Spencers' room, but he was literally fucking me stupid so I just removed a hand from his back and bit down on my fingers, hoping no one has heard yet. When Spencer saw, he slowed down. He reached down the side of the bed and lifted up my torn panties, and then proceeded to remove my finger from my mouth to push the cotton in its place. “There, now you won't have to hurt your finger”, and with that, he picked up a brutal pace again.

He was muffling his own moans by pressing his mouth onto my shoulder, no doubt leaving behind a dozen of hickeys. He was losing it, I could feel it in the way he pushed his fingers into my hips and the muscles in his back tensing. I wasn’t doing much better, my thighs were trembling and my panties were barely concealing my noises anymore. The room smelt like sweat and sex, Spencer’s skin was hot on mine and I never felt more whole in my life. I could feel my orgasm building inside of me.

“Touch yourself for me, angel. I want you to come with me.” I didn’t hesitate and started rubbing circles over my clit. It only took a few moments until my orgasm washed over my entire body and Spencer quickly ripped my gag from my mouth to kiss me. My thighs and cunt clenching around him, pulling him into me as deep as humanly possible, must have pushed him over the edge because after a few more strokes he stilled at my deepest point and came.

He released my lips from his and put his forehead on mine so we could both catch our breaths. It was quiet for a few minutes. I could feel his cum dripping out of me between our bodies and spared a quick thought to the poor person that would have to clean these sheets. I couldn’t bring myself to care though, not with the way he kissed my skin and nuzzled his face into my neck. I moved a hand to his hair to run my fingers through it, the strands curling once again from sweat wetting them.

“Tell me again.” He spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear, and I’m not sure I was supposed to. It took me a moment to realize what he meant but when I did, I moved my mouth to whisper in his ear.

“I’m yours, Spencer. As long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever then?”, he pulled away to look at me, but before I could answer, there was a knock at the door.

“Ayo Spencer, are you and y/n still fighting? We decided to go to a bar a few blocks away, but you’re only allowed to come if you don’t put us all in a pissy mood”, Luke's voice seeped through the door. I could feel Spencer trying to come up with a reply but before he had a chance, I spoke up.

“Actually, Luke, we’re still in the middle of fighting and I don’t think you want either of us there with you right now.” I tried to sound mad and I must have been convincing enough because even Spencer furrowed his brows at the tone in my voice. I smiled at him and trailed a hand up his arm to reassure him that I was just putting up a show.

“Well, okay just… Try to remember you two are friends and don’t actually want to kill each other”, he replied almost nervously. Damn, we must have really worried the team with our fight this time.

When we heard his footsteps moving away, Spencer started to detangle us from each other. He was still inside of me and when he pulled out, I sighed at the empty feeling it left behind.

“I’m gonna get something to clean you up.” He tried to stand up but he didn’t get very far before I pulled him back. I held his face in my hands and made sure he was looking at me when I said the words I know he desperately needed to hear.

“Forever.”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

You Never Know

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

Genre: very fluffy

Summary: Spencer wants to ask you on a date

***

You check your watch as you walk over to your desk. You thought you were gonna be late but it looks like you made it in earlier than you expected. You've barely settled into your chair when Derek pops his head around his computer monitor.

"Did you go?" He asks. You roll your eyes and reach into your bag for the paper bag half rolled up inside. You drop the paper bag on his desk across from yours.

"Yessss! You're the best mamas." Derek says pulling open the bag.

"What's that?" Spencer asks leaning over from his desk, trying to peak into Derek's mysterious sack.

"Dude there's this bakery in y/n's neighborhood that has the best pastries of all time but you have to go first thing in the morning or like as close to it as you can because first of all once they're out of something they're just out of it for the day and secondly these things are better the closer to fresh out the oven that you can get." Derek explains.

"So you send y/n to buy your pastries before work?" Spencer frowns.

"Well-"

"He doesn't send me anywhere. Sometimes I'm just nice enough to pick things up if I have time." You say.

"Correct." Derek points at you.

"Interesting." Spencer nods.

"What's your stance on donuts Spence? Do you even eat them?" You ask.

"I love donuts actually." He tells you.

"Yeah I guess that makes sense, you have quite the sweet tooth." You hum.

"I didn't realize that was obvious."

"Well, it is to me. I can't say if anyone else here would say the same but I noticed." You say.

"Oh." You barely catch his eyebrows scrunch together before he hides behind his monitor to avoid you noticing the heat he can feel rushing to his cheeks. He's probably reading into it too much that you noticed something like that. You take a sip from your coffee and turn your attention to your own computer. It's a paperwork day today it seems, as you all spend the day at your desks. On one hand, you honestly hate having to spend all day working on reports but on the other hand, no news is good news- theoretically not having a case should mean there are no new serial killers but you all know crime doesn't sleep- so there's a quiet understanding that you're just waiting for the next storm.

Still, it's been a busy few weeks so it's nice to not be jetting off to another state where you'd be arguing with local law enforcement while trying to solve a crime before it snowballs. By the time you're leaving work, you're almost caught up on the pile you'd been too busy to get to and that's sort of nice to know as you pull out of the parking lot.

~

You normally don't stop at your local bakery two days in a row but you figure you should buy something for Spencer after the conversation you had yesterday. So, you get up early enough to run by the bakery before heading in today.

"Y/n! Good morning! Same thing as always?" The bakery owner, Salma smiles at you when you walk in.

"Actually not today Salma, I'm buying for someone else this time." You smile. You maybe should've asked what donuts Spencer likes, but you like to think you know enough about his tastes to guess.

"Someone else? Not your work friend?"

"Not the one you know. A different work friend this time." You explain.

"Do you like this work friend too?"

"Salma I don't like Derek." You scoff. "Not the way you're implying anyway. He's just a friend."

"And this new work friend?"

"I don't know Salma I'm just picking up donuts." You say with a smile that you hope doesn't give you away. The look Salma gives you is enough to let you know she sees right through you.

"Alright, what can I get you this time then dear?"

"I'll take those two. I think he'll like those." You say pointing to the donuts you want through the display case.

"This one is a new recipe you know."

"Is it? I'll take one for myself as well then, and next time I'm in I'll let you know what I think." You smile.

"You have to come in soon then, you know how I value your opinion on new releases!" She says as she bags the pastries for you. 

"Of course Salma. I'll be back within a couple of days most likely, my work friend will get quite huffy if I'm not." You say handing her a ten and taking the donuts from her.

"And you are sure you don't want to take him anything since you are here?"

"Ah he got his sweets yesterday. He can wait until my next visit. Have a good day Salma." You say leaving the bakery. When you get to work Spencer, Derek, and JJ are already at their desks. You can see Hotch in his office as well as you drop your things at your desk.

"Is that what I think it is? Two days in a row y/n you spoil me." Derek spots the distinctly colored bag from the little bakery before you've even said good morning.

"First of all, good morning. Secondly, these are not for you Morgan."

"Not for me?!" He gasps and you roll your eyes.

"Spence, I brought you breakfast." You say dropping the bag on his desk.

"Really? What'd you bring me?" Spencer blinks.

"Donuts from the bakery near my place."

"Oh, the one Morgan really likes?"

"Yeah! Since we were talking about it yesterday I thought I'd pick something up for you." You say.

"And she's left me to starve in the process." Derek proclaims dramatically.

"Oh cut the theatrics. You got donuts yesterday, you weren't even expecting them." You scoff and Spencer chuckles.

"Well thank you for the donuts y/n." Spencer smiles.

"If you like them I'll bring you some more often."

"You're supposed to bring donuts for me though." Derek huffs.

"And today I brought them for Spencer. You get donuts all the time you'll be fine." You roll your eyes.

"This is favoritism." Derek says.

"No more than me bringing you donuts literally every couple of days." You scoff.

"Are you trying to replace me?"

"Replace you!? Morgan- you do realize it's just a donut, right?"

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"Okay, what if I just- don't ask for her to bring me donuts again?" Spencer asks.

"Don't be ridiculous Spence if you want donuts all you have to do is ask." You say.

"I just feel like-"

"Oh, hush. You're so dramatic. Salma says hello though." You cut Derek off.

"Now you're being mean." He gasps.

"Who is Salma?" Spencer asks.

"She owns the bakery." Derek says.

"She knows you?" Spencer turns to Derek.

"She knows I have a work friend that I buy donuts for. So when I came in this morning and ordered something different I had to explain that they weren't for that work friend."

"Salt. In the wound." Derek says.

"Will you relax if I give you half of my donut? It's a new one so Salma wants feedback anyway."

"It's not the same."

"There is just no pleasing you Derek Morgan." You shake your head.

"It's actually very easy, bring me donuts."

"This conversation has gone on too long I'm going to the kitchen." You say standing up and leaving the bullpen. In the kitchen, you pour yourself water from the Brita pitcher.

"Does Morgan really take this donut thing that seriously?" Spencer's voice startles you as you sip your water and you barely avoid choking on it.

"Jesus you move like a cat. No, but he does take getting on my nerves that seriously." You say.

"Oh- well I just wanted to thank you again, for bringing me donuts."

"You said you like donuts."

"I do! But- since I didn't get around to asking for some, it was a pleasant surprise."

"Well that's what I was going for so mission success." You smile. Spencer returns it with a bright one of his own.

"Actually, can I ask you something?"

"Of course hon. Anything."

"Well I was-"

"Good morning Spencer! Y/n!" Penelope greets happily as she enters the kitchen.

"Hey Pen." You smile at her and turn your attention back to Spencer.

"Good morning Garcia." Spencer nods.

"Oh! Y/n! You know that- task you brought to me last week?" She asks.

"Yes?"

"I got a hit."

"Seriously?"

"Have I ever let you down?" She winks.

"Oh you are truly the best there is! I'll be by your office in a little bit okay?" You tell her.

"Alrighty!" She says going, most likely to her office.

"You were saying?" You prompt Spencer.

"Is that important? Because my thing can totally wait- actually I don't think now's a good time to ask anyway." Spencer shakes his head.

"You're sure? Because the thing with Penelope isn't even work related. It is by no means time sensitive if you need to talk about something." You tell him.

"I'm sure, this can wait, it should wait. Now is a bad time I realize." He says. Your face scrunches a bit in confusion as you regard Spencer for a moment.

"As long as you're sure." You say hesitantly.

"One hundred percent. Go." He nods.

"Alright, but whatever it is, don't put it off too long, okay?"

"Promise." Spencer gives you a small smile and you turn to go to Penelope's office, wondering what could be on his mind. It doesn't come up for the rest of the day. You do your work, he does his, and though you speak throughout the day he at no point brings up the million dollar question he wanted to ask you this morning, and honestly by the time you're going home you've kind of forgotten about it. It's not until you're back at your place that it comes to mind again and that's only when Spencer calls you pretty much as soon as you step through your front door.

"You have insane timing, you know you called me just as I stepped into my apartment?"

"It usually takes you approximately 23 minutes to get home from work so I took a guess at when you'd be off the road based on when you left. Didn't think I'd be that on the nose though." Spencer says.

"Well- I hope everything's alright, seeing as you're calling me and we just left work at the same place. To what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask.

"The question I wanted to ask you this morning. I promised you I wouldn't put it off too long. I actually figured it would be easier for me to ask you this over the phone so I called." Spencer says.

"Oh yes. What ya got for me, sweetness?"

"I know that we're- coworkers and this might make things weird or whatever but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date with me? You of course don't have to say yes and if you don't I promise not to make things awkward at the office - we can just pretend this never happened but I- couldn't just not at least ask."

"A date?" You blink. Spencer wants to go on a date with you.

"Yes. Only if you want to, no pressure. I really don't want you to feel pressured or anything. It doesn't have to be a thing if it doesn't-" 

"Spencer!" You cut him off.

"Yes?"

"If you're going to ask me on a date you have to give me a chance to answer beloved." You smile.

"Oh- right. Sorry."

"I would love to go on a date with you."

"Seriously?"

"Of course." You say. Spencer lets out a relieved sigh that makes you want to giggle.

"Cool." He breathes. "I have to plan. I'll call you once I've sorted everything out. Is that okay?"

"Works for me." You nod even though he can't see you.

"Okay. It'll probably take me a while though so- in case it's too late to call you again tonight, good night."

"Spencer."

"Yes?"

"Don't obsess over making it perfect. I'll enjoy whatever we do as long as we're together. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He says softly.

You hang up before you end up dragging out the conversation and also so you can let out a ridiculous squeal that you would never let Spencer hear. You're... giddy. Like a teenager all over again. And you have to force yourself to go about your evening routines as opposed to just waiting for Spencer to call you all night.

***

[444rockstargf]

"be my undercover lover." | spencer reid

summer bummer. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: bad things happened when you made friends with the enemy, so what would happen if you fucked him instead?

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator

criminal!female!reader x spencer

word count: 1.5k

contents: public sex, unprotected p in v, creampie

a flicker of lightning illuminated the dark alleyway as the storm continued to rage on.

a shaky breath exhaled your lungs as you took a long drag of your cigarette, the smoke providing you warmth as you leaned against the stone-cold wall. you pulled your dark hood over your eyes, watching as cars zoomed by the alley, their lights sparkling against the wet sidewalks.

raindrops cascaded down the material of your long black jacket, the cloak concealing your identity. it was extremely dangerous for you to be out in the open at this time, but you had needs that desperately needed to be attended to. you glanced at your jeweled watch, the long arm of the clock striking 2 in the morning. as if on cue, the dim lights of a car stopped right outside of the alley, followed by the sound of an individual stepping out and making his way inside.

you kept your head down, the dark figure appearing in your peripherals. he held an umbrella, warm brown hair blowing in the wind as he took slow steps toward you. you put out your cigarette, approaching him until you were mere inches apart. “h-hey… i made it.” spencer’s voice trembled, mostly from fear and chills. he was dressed in his usual suit and tie, a few stray drops of rain cascading down his jawline and trickling down his neck.

you pulled him deeper into the enclosed spot, checking to see if the coast was clear before taking off your hood, your striking eyes meeting his soft gaze. he used the umbrella to cover your head, then you smiled softly. “i didn’t think you’d make it.” he smiled nervously. “i’d never want to disappoint you, darling.”

his eyes immediately caught a glimpse of the priceless watch hiding under your sleeve and his heart sank. if word got out about a genius FBI agent hooking up with the city’s most feared and corrupt criminal, who knew what would happen to him or you? you were opposing forces, fighting against each other in a battle that had no end in sight. but you were the most good-looking delinquent he’d ever laid eyes on. you had him wrapped around your finger, just as he did with you.

as you two stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed to be an eternity, you pushed him against the wall, placing your hands on his chest as you pulled him into a needy kiss. his eyes fluttered shut as your smooth lips moved against his in an intimate act that hadn’t been committed in far too long.

the umbrella slipped out of his grip as his hands found your waist, pulling you into his body as he sloppily kissed you on your open mouth. your hands ran through his drenched hair, his grip moving to your hips as he fondled with the leather material of your tight skirt. he groaned deeply into your mouth, making you smile into the kiss as you whispered softly. “...did you miss me, spence..?” 

he nodded, panting as he pulled away for just a second. “s-so, so much, baby. you have no idea…” you had become his worst addiction. the dark succubus who kept him awake in the depths of the night, constantly yearning for you. you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and connecting your wet lips with his again. he grabbed your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against the opposite wall. your tongues fought a silent war as both your and his arousal got nearly impossible to hide. your thumbs trailed down his chiseled jaw, frantically moving down to unbutton his dress shirt.

you pulled away for a moment, your lips swelling from the intensity of the kiss. spencer panted, starting to kiss your neck and leaving a sloppy wet trail behind him, moving down your collarbones and stopping right above the lacy rim of your blood-red camisole top. he looked up at you, brown doe eyes glazed over with lust. you wrapped your legs around his waist, never wanting to depart from him.

he spoke with his voice growing hoarse, his throbbing cock pulsating against the restricting material of his dress pants. “c-can i have you, baby..? i need you, i just need you so bad…” though you usually loved to torture him like the heartless criminal you were, you were just as needy as him at this moment, if not more.

you nodded, feeling his boner rubbing against your soaking crotch. his eyes lit up at your approval. he tore off the thin fabric of the top with his gleaming white teeth, an action so effortlessly attractive that you bit your lip to prevent any sheepish noises from coming out. he freed your tits from the clothed prison, eyes widening at your erect nipples pointed directly at him.

he took one of your tits into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your stiff peak with a low groan. you tossed your head back, feeling heat pooling in your core from the stimulation. all the talking he did made him dangerously good with his tongue, a few simple flicks of it nearly pushing you off the edge.

he rolled his hips against you, his cock nearly tearing through the fabric of his pants. you reached a hand down to hastily unbuckle his belt, letting it fall to the wet ground with a metallic clang. you unbuttoned his pants and his cock eagerly sprung out, the tip rubbing against your clothed slit and making you gasp.

you slipped your panties to the side, grabbing spencer’s shaft and using the tip to play with your needy clit. he moaned into your chest, looking up at you with a pleading gaze. you swallowed hard, slowly putting him inside of you, inch by inch at a time. you gasped as he pushed his hips upward, forcing the remaining amount inside of you.

his chest rose and fell as he felt your tight, gummy walls clenching around you with such desperation. with both hands glued to your ass, he thrusted in and out of you, loud moans slipping from your glazed lips. spencer buried his head in your chest, hiding the tears that filled his eyes from the pleasure that came with being inside you once again.

there was a large price that came with having an affair with your enemy, but moments like this made everything worth it. he lifted his head to kiss you on the lips again, feeding his moans into your mouth as he fucked you at a rapid pace, his balls slapping against the wet, gooey base of your hole. his cock had a perfect curve that helped him hit your cervix with every moment, intentional or not. 

you moaned and whimpered in his mouth, the alley filling with sounds of skin slapping together and other lewd noises. your tight hole nearly crushed him alive as it convulsed around him, his balls tightening up as a familiar sensation coursed through his veins. despite the rain, your bodies were on fire. a blaze that would remain hot forever.

“cum for me, spencer… n-need to feel you inside me…” one billion words of protest filled his mind, but nothing would feel better than filling you up with his seed. his clean, organized thrusts began to lose their composure as his moans became harder to suppress. you thanked the heavens for sending this storm, or else you two surely would’ve been caught by then.  

his eyes filled with that haze of lust as he looked you right in the eye, his orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks. he bit his lip so hard that he drew blood as he pushed you all the way down, his cock reaching your guts. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he filled you up like a sweet dessert, your hole swelling from the presence of his cum.

beads of sweat rolled down spencer’s forehead, his cheeks tinted with pink as he slowly set you back on the ground, your knees weak as you used the wall for support. “o-oh goodness, i-im so sorry. you told me to, y’know, a-and i just thou-” you interrupted his rambling with a deep kiss, your teeth hitting his for a moment as you tasted each other. 

you pulled away abruptly. “you talk too much, pretty boy.” his eyes were wide and hazy. he cleared his throat, nervously scratching the back of his head. “s-sorry…” you looked up at the sky, the storm finally starting to clear. you rolled your skirt back down, using the torn remnant of your top to cover your exposed tits.

spencer’s eyes were glued to him. you looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. he quickly caught the memo, tucking his softening cock back into his pants. you nodded, pulling your hood back up and starting to walk back out of the alley. but his voice stopped you in your tracks. “i’ll really miss you, y’know that?” you turn your head, shooting him a half-smile. “i will too. until we meet again, my love.”

with that, you left him in the dark, disappearing into the night.

author's note: thank you all for blowing up my inbox last night!! i promise to get them all out as soon as I can.