#reiderreplies

[reiderwriter]

💢 At Each Other's Throats 💢

Spencer Reid x female! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: A previous encounter means that you're not the biggest fan of Spencer Reid, and you go to some extreme lengths to prove that to him.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dom! Spencer, but not exactly sub reader , degradation (use of whore, slut), semi-public foreplay, arguing as foreplay etc, oral sex (m receiving, f mentions, too), face fucking, rimming, nipple play, rough sex/ rough play, spanking, slapping, spitting, choking, messy sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of painful sex/ pain play etc. some possible CNC triggers/ phrasing.

A/N: I couldn't find a gift of Spencer being bitchy enough, so everyone, please enjoy Kyle Orfman from Life After Beth. This one was a labour of love, if love was actually hate. It's 2am. This is obviously not edited, and may never be.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You knew from reputation alone that you would have a hard time working with Spencer Reid. Perhaps it was the slew of child prodigy articles that popped up alongside his name. Maybe it was even just your preconceived notion of what men with three PhDs, a badge, and a gun were like. Maybe it was the fact that he'd written to you after one of your first professional articles was published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology and told you a piece you'd worked on for 18 months was just plain wrong. 

Either way, you laid eyes on him, and the hatred was cemented. But fuck was he hot. 

He had no clue who you were as his boss introduced you to him, looking between the two of you as if expecting good things to happen. You should've warned him. 

“Spencer, this is Y/N. She'll be assisting on a few cases from this month onwards.” 

His eyes glazed over as he ran your name through whatever roller index of memories he had stored in there. 

“Y/N is a lecturer at the University of Virginia. She's going to be lecturing at the FBI Academy from September onwards-” 

“You! You wrote an article, I wrote to you about it, did you get my le-”

“Yes, I got your letter. I believe you called my writing ‘juvenile’ and my thinking ‘wishful,’ and that if I had any actual field experience, I'd slowly understand how many mistakes there were in my writing.” 

Agent Hotchner took an almost imperceptible deep breath in, trying to hide the fact that this was all new information to him. 

“Well, here I am, Doctor Reid.” 

The man in front of you gaped for a moment, letting his mouth hang open, closing after a few seconds only to open again. Perhaps you'd disorganized that index of his. You hoped you'd set the goddamn thing alight. 

“Shall we get started?”

To say that you'd gotten off to a bad start was an understatement. Your start had been reversed over by a dump truck with no tires. It had been cemented into the ground with no chance of going anywhere but down into the pits of hell. 

Which is, coincidentally, where you found yourself every time you had to engage Spencer Reid in conversation. 

Your first impression of his looks - his incredibly good looks - was that he was even better looking when he was pensive, and unhappy, and being bitchy. He was positively climbable when argumentative, and you liked nothing more than ruining his day, if just for the fact that he'd angrily loosen his tie and pop open his top buttons, exposing the pale white of his neck, and his sharp collar bones, perfectly ready for someone to suck and nip at. 

He was still an ass, however, and you couldn't bring yourself to sink to those depths.

Four cases in, and you hadn't agreed on one thing. You'd caught a serial arsonist, who he had demanded was most likely an office worker, but you'd countered with college student, and you had prevailed there. 1-0. 

Then, unfortunately, you'd lost back to back cases with unsubs in the trucking industry, unfamiliar with and uninterested in the life of the Jack Kerouac type. 

You'd even the playing field at last with a child abduction. And although you knew you'd both been keeping score, you were so genuinely happy for this case to be over. A child was safe at home, and you'd worked so well under pressure (something he had assured you would change your view of your personal forensic psychology theories). 2-2. 

Of course, those were just the big leagues. You'd fought many petty battles, too, as the war waged. 

You'd accidentally stolen his place on the jet, enjoying the long bench seat for a good few naps. A few times, he'd settled in next to you, trying to nudge you out of the chair completely, but you'd held your ground. 

“This is my seat. Usually. There are like 10 other places on this jet to sit. Why does it have to be here?” He'd grumbled into your ear as you gently elbowed him in the side, accidentally, of course.

“There aren't assigned seats. Maybe you have control issues, Doctor,” you cut back, trying to avoid speaking too loud to avoid the ire of the group. 

While you'd enjoyed bickering with - and intellectually besting - Spencer greatly, it did seem that the sentiment wasn't shared by those around you. 

“You can't be serious, right now,” Morgan complained from a seat opposite. “You're seriously fighting over a seat, right now?” 

“It's my seat, Derek, come on, you know it's my seat.” 

The look returned to Spencer almost had you ashamed of your petty actions. 

“I swear they're just taking every advantage to get closer and closer together. Next thing you know, she'll be sitting in his lap,” Emily said from the corner of the plane, so obviously not talking to you that you were almost offended. 

“Ah, young infatuation,” Rossi replied, still ignoring you. 

Reid slinked just slightly away after that, and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the comments themselves or the loss of his annoying companionship. 

You wanted him to bother you because it meant you'd succeeded in bothering him. 

You'd had more than your fair share of rather explosive arguments as well. 

“You can't seriously believe that Thomas Edison did more for the field of engineering than Nikola Tesla,” he'd shouted at you at a bar after a case had landed you in paperwork hell, filling out forms and working into the late hours. 

A drink had been suggested, a celebration after solving four straight cases in a row, and you'd gladly taken the chance to unwind. 

“Spencer, we're literally sat in a bar decorated with multiple light bulbs. Look, there's one. Another! Astounding. Thank you, Mr Edison.” 

“And none of it would be possible without Alternating Current, so yes. Thank you, Mr Tesla.” 

Your teammates had long since abandoned you to your petty bickering and fighting amongst yourselves. They'd stopped getting involved when Penelope had tried to mediate your discussion about Doctor Who, which had quickly devolved into New Who vs Old Who. 

You didn't even care strongly either way, you just cared that he did. And however he felt, you were sure as hell ready to take up arms against him. Because it was so fuckimg hot watching him lose his shit. 

You were a grown woman. You could admit that to yourself. You likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else, even if it was as clear as day that you found him unbearable attractive at times. You sure as hell knew that it wasn't a one-way street, from the way his eyes strolled across your body each morning. 

You wondered if there was a section of his brain that was dedicated to memorising everything you'd said, done, and worn since he'd met you. You hoped there was. 

On your fifth and final case with the BAU team, you felt unmatched in your annoyance. 

You were still drawn with Spencer for case breakthroughs, and you felt the need to beat him once again just to nail the point home. He was just stubborn enough to see a 3-2 win as a landslide victory for himself, though you were absolutely going to frame it that way yourself if you managed to be the one to crack everything. 

All sense of teamwork and camaraderie was off the table. 

You had a murderer to catch.

Three women, beaten, assaulted, and tied up. He'd shorn their hair but bagged them up so they were unseen. Then he'd placed the bags on display. The unsub was caught between two extremes, hatred of his victims, and gentleness, protecting their dignity in death by covering them up. 

Obviously, you and Spencer had to decide which side of the debate you were to land on.

“I think we're dealing with a killer without remorse here. It's easier to explain the covering, the dressing of the women as a ritual rather than guilt.” 

He'd finally played his cards, and now it was your turn to passionately wipe them from the table. 

“Remorse? He's cut all their hair off and beat half of them so badly we needed dental to identify them. And in case you've forgotten Spencer, half of them are prostitutes.”

“You're saying he can't feel remorse for killing prostitutes?”

“That is not what I'm saying. Don't twist my words."

“Well, of you'd said something that wasn't nonsensical, I'd have a better chance of understanding what the hell you're trying to say!’

With every line you'd stepped closer and closer to one another, like two boxers in a ring, sizing each other up before a fight. 

You wanted to take his tie and strangle him with it. You wanted to pull him down for a kiss and force him to shut the hell up. 

“Reid, Y/N, both of you take five,” Hotch called sternly from the other side of the room. Guiltily, you both broke away from one another, his hand brushing your side as you took a step back, almost as if he'd meant to grab you before Hotch stepped in. 

Probably to remove you from the room. 

“Take five?” You said, mustering all the disappointment you could as you silently pleaded to stick around. 

“Go back to the motel and get some rest. If you're going to argue like this, I don't need you at the precinct, and I certainly don't need you on my team.” 

You blanched at that, almost taken aback by the harsh words as you silently nodded and quietly walked towards the door, letting it shut behind you. 

Spencer stayed behind, and though you couldn't hear his arguments, you knew he was attempting to reason with Hotch, as well. It evidently didn't work as he stormed out of the room behind you. 

He looked half like a kicked puppy, half like an angry school kid who'd just been scolded by a teacher. 

“Don't look at me like that, this is your fault,” you muttered as you walked away from the room. 

“What? How is this my fault?” 

“If you weren't so goddamn infuriating, we'd be able to get some actual work done.” 

You marched off in the direction of the exit, but he caught your shoulder before you made it that far.

“You're blaming me? This is my job, Y/N, not yours. You get to go back to a cushy little office after this is done to teach the people that are going to end up doing the paperwork that consists of only 2% of our job.”

His finger jabbed at your shoulder as he said the words, and you had to resist the temptation to grab it. 

“Doesn't feel too good to be criticized when you're just doing your job, huh, Spencer?” 

His brows knitted together in a deepened scowl and he took a step forward. 

But there were eyes on you, and whatever confrontation this was, you didn't want to act it out in front of an office full of cops. 

You turned and walked away again, down a seemingly abandoned hall to what looked to be an empty storage cupboard, flinging the light on and waiting the three seconds it took him to catch up with you. 

“What's your problem?” He said, joining you in the cramped closet. 

“You! You're the problem! You're infuriating, and annoying, and most important, you're you!” You poked his chest back, harder than he had earlier, quietly reveling in the feel of his body under your fingertip. 

“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to be someone different? Someone who worships the ground you walk on?” He said, discovering sarcasm for the first time since you'd been introduced. 

“Sure, Spencer, if you can take tour head out of your own ass long enough to worship someone else, then be my guest.” 

With a single push he crowded you against the wall, a hand above your head locking you into position as his other hand held your hip, his own hips joining you at the wall as you sucked in a breath. 

“You're begging to hear praise, right now, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, whispering the words directly into your ear. 

“W-Well, you have me pressed up against the wall like some fucking caveman that needs to breed or die.” You spent half the time you were talking trying to compensate for the stutter, trying not to look weak, that you totally missed the words that came from your own mouth. 

“You think I want to have sex with you?” He asked, chuckling awkwardly, even as his hand on your hip began rubbing circles, his head hanging lower, just inches away from your mouths meeting. 

“I think you'd love nothing more,” you said, finally lifting your hands to his hair and tucking a lock behind his ears. “Such a shame I won't be crawling into your bed.” 

“Is that a challenge?” He asked, and you were taken aback for a few seconds. 

“You want me so fucking bad, you're trying to convince yoursel-”

With a swoop, he cut you off, his lips meeting yours. You gasped and allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, but you came to your senses quickly. You kissed back with all the anger of the last month and all the attraction that had built up since you'd joined the team. Your tongue fought his, your hands tangled in his hair as his pulled them out, pinning them against a wall. But you slipped free and grabbed him again, grabbing the tie you'd wanted to choke him with earlier and not letting go. 

His lips were soft, and his body felt hot pressed against you, and you hated how good he was at all of this, how your body responded to his, how each time you pulled away it was with a small whimper as you begged for more. 

“I knew you wanted me,” he said, between kisses, grabbing your face and tilting it up as he returned his tongue to yours. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you kissed me first.” His hands trailed up your hips, untucking your shirt as he pushed his hand under, his cold fingers sending a trail of goosebumps along your skin as you shuddered. 

“I kissed you because you begged me to,” he said, his fingers caressing the bottom of your chest as he tried to press your bra up further. 

You were about to argue back when his lips met yours again, and you were lost in the haze of arousal, leg lifting to his hip to better allow him space to settle against you. 

You grew wilder in your passion, neither of you giving in even for one second as you writhed against each other, begging for satisfaction while denying that you'd ever wanted each other in the first place. Just as it became unbearable, your hands slipping to his belt, ready to pull his cock free and take it, the door opened again. 

“Reid, Y/N,” Morgan said from the doorway as you hastily jumped away from each other. 

You pulled your shirt down quickly, and Spencer stepped behind you, covering up the tent in his pants as you stared guiltily up at Derek Morgan. 

“Hotch sent me after you to give you the keys to the SUV,” he grumbled, making no comment on anything that happened. 

“We were just, um, we were just-” your brain fought for an excuse, but you'd left your brain behind somewhere between joining the BAU and foreplay with Spencer in a closet, so words escaped you. 

“You were just making out in a closet. It's okay, we all know,” Derek said, turning to leave. 

You jumped up, indignant now he'd brushed you off, and followed him out of the closet, an equally shocked Spencer trailing behind you. 

“What do you mean you all know? All know what?” You said, stomping back into the office. 

“That you two are into each other. It's why Hotch sent you away earlier. He didn't want to see the two of you going at it,” he said, pressing the car keys into your hands. 

“We are not into each other,” Spencer shouted back at Morgan as he stalked off, and you glared at him to shut his mouth. There was a crowd forming, and you still didn't need that attention. Not when your hair was matted from seven minutes in hell with Spencer or when his hand had, once again, settled on your hip, pulling you closer into him. 

“Let's go,” you huffed, and finally left the building with Spencer right behind you. 

You didn't talk for the rest of the drive home, even as your brain flooded itself with images of him taking you in the back of the car, your lips around his dick as he drove, him pulling over to bend you over the hood. 

You went straight to your separate rooms when you got back to the motel, though you swore that the walls were thin enough that he surely heard you pleasure yourself, fingers sinking into yourself. You weren't sure if he, too, had his hand wrapped around his cock, or if your brain was just now imagining whatever it liked to spur you on. 

Imagined or real, his moans were delicious, a maddening mix of frustration, exasperation and desperation, whimpers and groans, and small growls until you yourself were cumming, and letting yourself sleep.

You avoided talking, all talking, until the end of the case, even as your head replayed his infuriating words, his moans and the rustling sound of his fingers pressing your shirt up. You refused to talk to him to give his coworkers the validation of arguing with him once more. You weren't into each other. 

You simply wanted to fuck him. You didn't like him as a person otherwise. 

In avoiding him, though, the small taste of release you'd sampled in the closet had your softer parts deliriously wanting more. As much as you hated Spencer, you needed him so bad. 

You'd given him the cold shoulder  but he'd returned it just as quickly, and you were more annoyed not talking to him than you weren't. 

Your last case wrapped up, and you decided it was time to give him what he so obviously wanted. A conversation. 

You sat yourself right back down in his seat as you got on the jet and laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself as you took up the entire space. 

The others shook their heads at you as they walked on, Spencer taking up the rear. His eyes met yours, and he scowled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he'd look like that fucking you, so stern and angry. 

You sighed and pushed onto your side as he stood over you. 

“That's my seat.” 

You smiled in success as you looked over your shoulder. 

“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.” 

“But that is my seat-” 

“Spencer, you've sat on every seat on this damn plane before, that wasn't your seat until last month, now sit down, shut up and let me rest,” JJ exploded and you suddenly felt bad for drawing him into your argument.  Or you did until you sat up a bit, and he sat himself right down where your head had been. 

“Spencer!”

“I give up…” JJ groaned from the table seats, pulling headphones over her head and shutting her eyes, and the others made to ignore you similarly. 

Not one to be beaten, you pushed the book in his hands off his lap and laid your head down again, now cushioned by his legs. 

“What-” his voice squeaked as you shut your eyes, too, and made yourself comfortable. He didn't push you off, or, heaven forbid, start talking to you again. Shockingly, he adjusted to the position quickly and resigned himself to pillow duty for the six hour flight. 

You, too, shocked yourself by how fast you fell asleep. You woke up with his hands in your hair, stroking your head as he read, book in one hand, you in the other. His hands felt wonderful, raking through your long locks, brushing each errant hair off your face. 

“Spencer?” You said, voice still thick with sleep. 

His hand shot away, and you almost regretted not pretending to sleep for longer, sure that he'd have gone on if you hadn't said anything. 

You straightened and cleared your own throat as you stretched, sitting quietly as you listened to the flight landing announcement. 

“Congrats, Y/N, you've successfully finished your time with the BAU,” Rossi said from his seat opposite you, strapping in for the landing.

“And you haven't been shot, kidnapped, or slapped. That's gotta be a first, right?” Emily joked from the corner. 

You smiled quietly as you strapped yourself down, scooting even closer to Spencer now to get your belt fastened.

Still, you couldn't resist the urge to mumble a retort.

“I'm sure Spencer thought about it a few times,” you sighed, a breath of resignation releasing from your lips dramatically.

The others chuckled, but Spencer sat silently next to you until the jet landed. 

He stayed quiet as he began to pack his things, but it became clear quickly that he was dragging everything out. As the plane emptied, you shot him a curious look, not daring to speak until you were the last two on the plane. 

“You're being slow today.” 

“I've never thought about shooting you or kidnapping you,” he said, voice low and quiet, even though you were alone. 

“It was a joke, Spencer,” you started, so sick of him taking g everything so seriously. You made to walk past him, but as you did, you felt his hand on your waist pulling you back as another hand came hard and fast at your ass. 

“I wasn't finished speaking,” he said as his hand ran over your butt, soothing the pain he'd just delivered. “I have thought about slapping you, though.” 

With that he grabbed his bag and stalked off the jet, not bothering to cast another look behind him. 

Two could play at that game. 

In about the most childish was you could muster, you ran ahead of him, staying three paces directly in front of him as he tried to overtake you. You moved when he moved. You sped up when he sped up. You even stopped a few times, so he'd run into you. 

“Y/N, cut it out.”

“Make me,” you said, throwing a withering look over your shoulder. 

He didn't wither. 

Instead, he grabbed your arm and marched you all the way through the FBI building, down to the parking lot, and into your car. As soon as he had you safely in the driver's seat, he closed the door, pulling off your visitors' pass. 

“I'll return this for you, no need for you to dally.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat out the window as you started the ignition. 

“It's been a pleasure,” he said with a grimace. 

“No, it hasn't,” you said back, wondering how long you'd spend in jail of you just mowed him down then and there. 

“You’re right. It hasn't,” he said, leaning down and into the window so you were now eye to eye. 

“Really? It seems like you got a lot of pleasure out of spanking me earlier. You were certainly experiencing a lot of pleasure when you pushed me up against a wall last week. If it wasn't pleasure, there was definitely something long-”

“Long?” He smirked.

“And hard in your pants.” 

He leaned in through the window, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he whispered into your ear. 

“That was my gun.” 

“And I certainly won't be helping you fire a load,” you said, starting the ignition and pushing him back from the window as you drove away from the FBI and away from Spencer Reid. 

It infuriated him that you'd gotten the last word. You'd spent a month with him and hadn't even given him a chance to show off his good qualities, and then you'd left without giving him a chance to prove himself. 

And, in doing so, you'd told a blatant lie. 

There had been two people in that closet, two people with tongues desperate for contact, eager for battle. You'd been moaning just as much as he had when his hands found your nipples. 

But you'd gotten to drive away without listening to his retort, and it was killing him. 

He sat and seethed at his desk for a while, waiting for the sense of relief that you were gone to wash over him. This had been what he wanted for weeks. Why was he now so discontent? Why did everything feel wrong? 

Abandoning paperwork he knew wouldn't be needed until at least next week, Spencer found your address in the team files, wrote it down, and left his desk. 

When you got home, there was nothing waiting for you. 

It was annoying. You'd spent the last month constantly on the go, always with more work, more cases, more paperwork. You'd killed any apparent gaps with Spencer. 

You could still feel his hands on your ass. You hated to admit it, but in your short acquaintance with Doctor Asshat, you'd grown fond of having him around as eye candy. When he wasn't being annoying (talking, breathing, or generally just being), you could quite happily imagine his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping up every drop of cum you had to offer. 

There were definitely better things he could be doing with his mouth, in any case. 

Your body felt hot, itchy, and neglected as you got home, running a shower immediately and stepping in. 

The water was hot, and the room steamed up faster than you expected. You washed away the fatigue, and you washed away the dirt of a month of cheap motels.. 

Just as you were about to wash away the memories of Spencer Reid and his stupidly skilful tongue, the doorbell rang. 

It wasn't unusual for you to get visitors at 10 pm, but usually they announced themselves. 

You stayed put in the shower. It was probably a package you'd ordered, and it could honestly wait. 

The ringing, though, didn't stop. Whoever was at your door was insistent. First, the door rang to the rhythm of jingle bells. Then, they moved on to Fur Elise. When they got to Flight of the Bumblebees Levels of bullshit, you couldn't stand it anymore. 

You wrapped a towel around you and pulled the door open wide. 

“Sp- mm?” You said, shocked to see him there, but completely floored by his appearance, and more importantly the two hands he'd planted on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a hot, hard, and fast kiss. 

You pushed him off with a hard slap to his face, and stalked further into your apartment, knowing he'd follow closely behind.

You heard the door slam shut as he made to grab you again, but you stayed just out of reach. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“I came because neither of us will move on without this.”

“Oh, you need me so much you won't be able to move on if you don't fuck me?” You scoffed, expecting a sarcastic answer to a sarcastic question. 

“Yes,” he said, and your shock at his earnestness gave him the moment he needed to grab at you again. 

This time, though, the tiny towel that had been holding your dignity in place dropped to the floor as Spencer Reid pinned you against the wall. 

“Already fucking bare and wet for me, how well-behaved.”

“Go fuck yourself!” you said, even as his hands cupped your breasts, grabbing and pulling both of your nipples, making you moan.

“See, your mouth is being a bitch, but your body is being a whore.” 

“Just fuck me won't you? No need to run your mouth.” 

“I think we're finally in agreement on something,” he said, pushing you to your knees. 

“What? Sp-” 

In one quick swoop he released his cock from his pants and wrapped a hand around all of your hair as he slid it down your waiting throat. 

As much as you protested, your mouth was wide open, and your hands wrapped around him just as eagerly. 

Holding your head still, Spencer began to talk as he fucked your throat. 

“There we go. That's exactly how I've needed you for the last month.”

You glared at him as you sank your nails into his thighs, gagging on his cock as he picked up his pace.

With two taps on his leg, you requested a moment, and he quickly pulled his dick out of your mouth. 

You coughed quickly, then spat out all of your accumulated drool before looking up at him. 

Part of you wanted to force him down next to you, to make him taste your cunt the way you'd thought about earlier. The other part, the larger part, was excited about him using you. 

He grabbed his dick and slapped your face with it, returning your earlier hit. He was waiting for you to open up again so he could cum down your throat and leave. 

“Open,” he demanded. 

You didn't comply, but you stuck out your tongue, lapping at his tip slowly as you sat on your hands. He held his breath as you kissed the underside of his shaft, making his way to his balls. You reached them and finally sucked them into your mouth, making sure to look up and make eye contact with him as you toyed with his private place.

He didn't argue or complain. Instead he fisted a hand into your hair and dragged you to your bedroom. 

Divesting himself of his pants and shirt, he sat down and, still on all fours, pushed your face back into his crotch. Perched on the edge of your bed, he held his cock up and served himself to you. 

“Well? Get back to it, Y/N.” 

Your tongue found his cock first as his hands massaged his balls, playing with them gently as you licked all the way to his tip then buried yourself between his asscheeks. You licked at the skin between his ass and balls, you tasted every inch of him, and you grew angry that he still hadn't done this for you. 

Against his wished, you rose and spat on his cock, before squeezing it hard. 

“Spencer, are you going to fuck me or are you just going to ruin my makeup?” 

“You look prettier with spit coating your face than you've looked with any lipstick,” he said as you pushed him down onto the bed and grabbed his cock. 

Straddling his waist, you were surprised he.let you sink down onto his cock without so much as another word. You felt him fill you up, one inch, then another until you sat fully sheathed on top of him. 

And then he flipped you over so he was back in control. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered as he pulled out and thrust back in. 

“You wanted me to fuck you, I'm fucking you.”

You wanted to argue but all you could do was moan yes as he set a furious pace, thumb and forefinger pinching your clit as you bucked into him wildly.

You couldn't stand too much of this, knowing that you wanted to at least outlast him. You wanted to tell him how pathetic he was for cumming first, you wanted to gloat that he'd wanted you more, that he couldn't resist breeding your hot wet cunt. You knew any more of this, though, and you would instead be on the receiving end of those same taunts. 

Pushing against his chest, you used the last of your strength to flip him over again. He struggled, though, stronger than you were expecting, and you rolled together like that for a few moments.

You almost went crashing to the floor as he fought for control, but he pushed a foot off the bed and held you up with his lower body strength. The new position though forced his cock deeper, to just the right angle, and when he thrust into you again, you did something you'd never done before during sex. 

You screamed your pleasure. 

Your orgasm ripped through you, as painful as it was pleasurable, and you grabbed Spencer Reid by the neck and forced his tongue to meet yours. 

He couldn't complain, too busy moaning about your hot, wet, and now tighter cunt to worry about whether he should be kissing you. 

He pulled back and picked his pace right back up, but this time, you resisted less. Hooking a hand under your legs, he pressed your legs up, pushing his stomach and chest down just above your own as he moved slower but harder. 

You wondered if this was what other wen talked about when they said they wanted someone to beat their pussy up, to use them until they couldn't stand. You didn't think you could even think about walking again for the next month as he spread your knees apart and pinned them to the bed, unloading his cum as deep inside you as anything had ever been.

You didn't even know your body bent that way. 

Panting, he collapsed on top of you and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling and muttering to himself as he came down from his ecstasy. 

He didn't pull out. He barely even softened as he kissed across the expanse of your throat, thrusting shallowly with each nip, until your body couldn't take anymore. 

He picked a spot and sucked, and licked and bit and soothed as he ended one round, and began another. 

“Spencer-” you said, gasping as he sat up, his cock once again standing at attention, filling you still. 

“No. Stop. Don't talk, we're not good when we talk.” 

You nodded and pulled him back for another kiss, wrapping a hand around his throat and pressing hard as he moaned and groaned into you. 

Still wet and slippery and sensitive from your first attempt, neither of you lasted long, falling to the bed when it was all over with a grunt of overexertion. 

“That was…” you said, stopping there, for once totally speechless.

“That was good?” He supplied, but just good wasn't enough. 

“Yes,” you agreed, though, not willing to let your cunt rule your mind when around him.

Anymore, at least. 

“We should… we should probably never speak again,” you said, even as your hand reached out for his, fingers tangling. 

“Of course. I'll leave, and we won't ever speak again,” he said, stroking your hand with his thumb, bringing your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your hand.

“You haven't left yet.” 

“I haven't.”

“I have nowhere to be tomorrow,” you said. “You don't…”

“I won't leave yet. We might as well enjoy this,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over your naked body. 

“We should definitely just get this out of our systems now. What's the harm in that?” 

“I agree. If we're committing to a one time thing, we might as well go all in.”

“Exactly,” you said. 

“Exactly,” he parrotted.

Exactly a year later, the members of the BAU received invitations in the post to your wedding. Because the both of you had convinced yourself that that one time had never ended and never had need to. 

[reiderwriter]

You're Just Too Good To Be True

Chapter 9 of That's What You Get

Summary: You're determined to seduce Spencer after accidentally rejecting his last advances. It goes better (and worse) than you expect.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, Dom! Spencer, Oral (M receiving), clit stimulation, sort of dry humping, cum play, breeding kink, size kink, wife/husband role play, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, slut, whore), creampie and heartbreak. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Welcome to the endgame. Please don't worry about anything and go into this chapter completely blind 🥰 My requests are finally back open, and you can find my masterlist here! I'm also participating in kinktober this month, and everything so far is here, too if you're interested!! 💕 Enjoy!

The elevator was painfully slow as you followed Spencer out of the building. You had to take your bets about which way he'd have gone, whether he'd brought a car or was planning on taking the subway. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you chose the parking garage, partially hoping for seclusion with him a bit faster than you'd get if he'd run to the crowded station. 

Fate was on your side. You stepped off the elevator on the basement floor and after a harried moment of twisting this way and that, your eyes locked onto him in the distance, walking towards his desperately old car. A miracle, considering he didn't often drive. 

"Spencer!" You shouted across the lot, practically skipping over to him, only mere paces away when he finally turned to look at you. You slowed down to a walk then, but with a marked anticipation bubbling in your stomach, your steps felt like lurches, your body drawn into him by the beat of your heart. 

"Spencer, wait." He'd stopped just in front of his car, so he wasn't really moving, but you wanted to be sure. You needed to be sure. 

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" He asked, his tone light, not as confused as his face made him seem. You hoped that was a good sign, that he was playing up the awkwardness of the interaction for anyone else who happened to be driving themselves home. 

"Our annulment deadline passed, right?" You looked up into his eyes, trying to hold the grin back from your face as you locked eyes with him. 

"Yes. I told you that the other night in the lobby, why are you asking again?"

"Because I want to go home with my husband." You took a step closer to him with the words, letting them fall lower, hitting the back of your throat where your heart was currently beating. They somehow didn't get stuck as you raised your hand to his chest. You didn't touch him fully, just let your pointer finger trace circles on the pocket of his shirt, hoping he'd hoping understand. Desperately. 

Sick of your teasing, he grabbed your hand and flattened it against his chest, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he slowly twisted the two of you around. You were like two beasts, circling each other, looking for areas to attack, to bite, to destroy. God you wanted him to destroy you. 

Before you knew it your back was to the car door, his voice in your ear. 

"And what do you want to do at home with your husband?" He growled in your ear, as he dropped your hand, instead bracing himself on the roof of the car and leaning down into you. Your body was on fire and he wasn't even making contact anymore. 

"I think you know." 

"I think I want to hear anyway." 

You just couldn't give into that. A challenge had been issued, and by God were you going see it through. 

"I want to feel my husband's hands around my throat. I want to feel his heartbeat pressed against mine. I want him to hold my hand as he pounds into me. And I want him to cum so deep inside of me that it doesn't even drip out." Each word was hushed, even in the stillness of the basement. It looked empty, but you never knew who'd snuck into their cars before you'd arrived. Or even after, as you focused all your will and energy on Spencer. 

To his credit, he didn't move, barely even batted an eye. He just nodded down at you, and smiled slowly, letting it spread across his lips in a wild grin, as if you'd just said the sweetest words to him instead of the dirtiest. 

"Your husband is a lucky man." 

"He could be, but he hasn't opened the car door for me yet, so who knows." You dared to touch him then, snaking one hand up his chest into his hair, and slowly pulling his head down for a kiss as you pushed yourself up. 

His arms didn't move until the second you touched, abuzz with the contact as you suddenly found yourself stuck together as if glued. His lips slip expertly over your own, as your thoughts run amok with glee. You'd won, and he was your prize. He pressed you back into the car, letting his hands explore more and more of you as he got carried away by your scent, the feeling of you under his hands, the taste of you on his lips. 

He finally pulled away and put three metres of space between you, physically far enough that he couldn't touch you as he turned away, trying to wipe you from his lips. 

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't be doing that here. Someone could see us." 

"I don't care." His eyes shot back to yours with a tilt of his head that you knew was him asking you if you really meant that. "I don't care who sees us, because I want them to know who you belong to."

"Are you sure you're not going to avoid me for weeks again if I keep kissing you?" 

"Spencer, I want you to do much more than just kissing me this time."

The grin bloomed on your lips before you could stop it, so proud to be claiming him publicly now. 

You could see the hesitation on Spencer's face as he risked pulling you back in, likely running the worst case scenarios of taking you right then and there in the car (misdemeanour charge of public sex, 1-2 years of probation, demotion from BAU, registry on a sex offenders list etc.) and collected his thoughts. He so would have liked to have hiked your skirt up then and there, but he doesn't even have to ask to know your opinion on the matter. 

You could practically hear him counting to ten. 

"Get in the car." 

"Say it nicely and I'll think about it." He raised an eyebrow, keeping eye contact as he opened his mouth one more time. 

"Get in the car, Mrs. Reid. Or do you need to be manhandled into it." 

As much as you're sure you would have enjoyed that, you chose not to push it too far. So you did as you were told, little sparks of heat flying up and down your body as you replayed the possessive tone he'd used to say your name. 

The car was cold, but you feel it warm up more as he closes the door behind you and climbs into the driver's seat. It increases tenfold when he leans over to pull your seatbelt into place, and dissipates entirely when he rests his hand on your leg and doesn't move it for the rest of the ride. 

Your almost disappointed by just how locked in it is, wishing desperately that it would go further up, right to where you wanted him. You even tried to press the issue, literally, with your hands. 

"Y/N, if I touch you anymore than this, we're not making it home. And there aren't many secluded spots on the side of the road, and I'm pretty jealous when it comes to things that are mine." You try not to melt at the words, but you fail, your legs dropping apart naturally. 

You expect him to take you to his place, excited to finally christen the bed you'd slept in peacefully twice. But as the scenery around you changes, becoming infinitely more familiar, you realise that's not the direction you're going. 

"This is the way to my apartment." It's less of a question, more of a statement, but he nods at you in confirmation. 

"You said you wanted to go home. I'm taking you home." 

"Spencer, your apartment would've been fine, that's your home."

"My home is wherever you are. We're here." He turns the engine off and climbs out of the car, leaving your heart fizzing with adoration. 

He finishes the conversation as he opens the door, offering you a hand and pulling you up so quickly you stumble into his chest as his lips fall to your ears. 

"Besides, your place is closer." Heat pooled between your legs, only growing with each step as your body reacted to having him closer and closer to your bed. 

"Didn't want to fuck me in the car though?" 

"I wanted something better for our first time." 

"This isn't our first time, Spencer." Your back hits the door of your apartment as you round on him, needing to see his eyes as you remind him that you know what he feels like inside of you. 

"How much do you remember?" He asks, not stepping closer, but not moving away either, eyes roaming your body alight with bodily hunger. 

"I remember the way you feel. The way you taste. I remember all the carnal details and none of the practical ones, and I'm beginning to think that maybe they're the only ones that matter." You wet your lips and glance down to his. A moment's hesitation is all he needs to attack you again, pushing his entire body weight into you as his lips find yours again. 

He's hot and he's hard and he's big and he's pushing against you so strongly you fear he's going to push you straight through the door, no unlocking needed. He pulls back just long enough for you to remind him of it though, but his only reaction is turning you around so his crotch is against your ass. 

"Go ahead and unlock it then." His lips find their way to the sensitive spot on your neck, and you wonder if it's luck or skill that puts him there, how he knew it would drive you crazy. 

It takes multiple attempts to open the door, and you're growing impatient in your lust, letting out tiny whimpers in frustration. You feel like your three more failed attempts away from stomping your feet and throwing yourself to the floor in a tantrum when his hand comes up so steady your own, pushing the key into the door first try. 

"You just needed some help getting it in, it's okay." The innocent words do nothing to distract from his hot cock resting at your ass, and you almost roll your eyes at the irony of the moment as he guides you inside. 

He turns you again and your lips lock in desperation. He hits the light switch and you don't stop. Your legs hit the back of your sofa, and you don't stop. Your unbuttoning his shirt and you don't stop, nearing the end of your tether, ready to feel him snap right back into you like a taught wire. 

"You're not even inside me yet and you already feel this good…" You whisper the words as he words down your neck, paying special attention to your pressure points, like he's memorised all the spots on your body that leave you weak in the knees. You can feel his smile as he attempts to undo you. 

Until he pulls away. Looking down at you as if you were a work of art and he the painter, he nods in satisfaction, before lifting you bridal style. 

"It's time for us to get into bed." 

"Well, aren't you the gentleman? Where I'm from, it's called fucking, Spencer." He almost flinches at the vulgarity, but you brush it off, letting him throw you down onto your bed. 

He starts working on the buttons of his sleeves, rolling them up neatly to his elbows in preparation for something important, but you don't give him the chance. 

Slipping off the bed, you make your way to your knees, where it becomes achingly apparent that the buttons on his pants also need to be pried open. 

"What do you think you're doing?" He asks, a little ticked off by your movements. 

"I'm getting ready to please my husband, obviously. Isn't that what good little wives do?" You finally slip him from his pants, letting his erection answer the question for him. 

"I'm in charge."

"And I like it that way," you say, opening your mouth wide as he grabs his cock in his hand, and sticking your tongue out nice and far as he let's it graze your top lip. 

He pushes deep into your mouth before grabbing your throat. You try not to splutter around him, relaxing and taking as much as he's giving. 

"Go ahead then, if you think you can handle it." The words shoot straight to your core, and you eagerly begin pumping your mouth up and down his erect penis. 

"Good Little cock sucker, this is what I married you for." His grip runs up to your hair, grabbing a chunk of it in his hands as he follows your movements around his cock. 

"You look so pretty on your knees for me like that," he says, pulling your mouth over his entire cock and keeping him there. "I'm gonna make you feel so good later, baby, just you wait."

He continues like that, using his grip to masturbate with your mouth, moaning and groaning at your touch until your ready to feel his cum shoot down the back of your throat. 

His release doesn't come though, and instead he's pulling your head off and discarding you below him. Climbing onto the bed, you eagerly watch him as he takes a seat, making himself comfortable and not even sparing a glance your way, still sat on your knees on the floor, spit and tears decorating your face, eyes wild with lust. 

"I'm not getting on my knees for you, princess. If you want me to pleasure you, you're going to have to climb right into my lap yourself." 

His explanation had your legs snapping shut as you squeeze them together, desperate for release. 

You do as you're told once again, climbing onto the bed and crawling into the generous space he's made between his legs. 

He positions you where he wants you, your back to his chest as he used his large hands to press your legs wide. 

"That's it, open wide for me princess."

"What are you, a horny dentist?" You laugh at his words, but he grabs your jaw and tilts it up to him, capturing your lips in a rough embrace. The air doesn't return to your lungs until he touches your cunt, and then it comes in a sharp gasp that leaves your head spinning. 

Maybe it's him that's actually having that affect. 

"You like that? You like me rubbing your little dripping pussy through your panties? Y/N, I'm not even touching you directly." The words are matter-of-fact, like he's astounded you're so fucking wet for him, but not shocked, knowing how much of a dirty little whore you were for him. 

His hands on you, the extra friction from your panties, his words in your ear, it's all too much as you find an orgasm rippling through your body, leaving you twitching as you ride it out on his fingers. 

"Where do you keep your condoms?" 

"I don't." He sighs in your ear, and you can feel him try to move himself so he can go and grab one from his bag or his car or somewhere even further from where you need him.

"Spenced, we're married." You whisper into his ear, nestling back further into his chest. 

"What are you suggesting?" 

"We're married, and it looks like we're staying married. I don't care where your nut goes as long as its inside me or painted over my body." 

He pushes you onto the bed on your back then as he pushed his remaining clothing off, taking yours with it while he's at it. His grabs the base of his cock, and the pre-cum dribbles out. You watch with all the hunger of a wolf seeing a rabbit, desperate to have him inside you one way of another. 

"That's it, slide your cock into my PUSSY, Spencer. Put it right where it belongs." 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, as he uses the top of his cock to press against your clit, not bothering to enter you just yet. 

"What's wrong with this? Aren't I still getting you off like this? Not risking anything letting my cock sit here, letting myself cream on this beautiful mound." His words and motions on your clit are too much and you cum again the teasing is so good. 

In your bleary daze, he finally pushes into you, and you scream his name at the contact. 

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. God Spencer, you feel so good, so big for me." Gratitude is the only thing running through your mind, thankful as you are to have him buried deep. 

His thrusts are hard, fast and wet, and you hear them every step of the way as he spits down to the place you connect. You moan desperately, unable to form words by now as he snaps his hips into you violently, taking and taking and taking. 

But soon, it's his turn to give, and he's asking where he should be doing it. 

"Want my cum inside of you? Want it right here?" His hands fall to the bulge in your stomach, to the place where you can feel him pushing into and pulling out of you, the place where you can feel him grazing your walls. 

"Those other types of orgasm, I'm gonna give them all to you. I'm going to clamp your nipples and eat you out so you associate the pain with pleasure. I'm going to put a vibrator on your clit and leave you tied up until you've soaked the sheets. I'm going to pump you do full of cum that it's dripping from every whole on your body. I'm going to fuck you in the office and see how many people find out. Is that how you like it?"

You try to hold it back, to prologue the pleasure, but you csnt and it rips through you, your juices pushing out of you in a shudder, soaking Spencer's cock as he lifts your leg and deepens his angle. 

"How do you feel better than I remembered?" He moans as he begins shooting his load into you, cumming in you with a deep moan, locking his lips against that same spot on your neck. 

Maybe it's the post-nut clarity, maybe it's just the words that accidentally ripped from his mouth, but you're suddenly wide awake, the cloud of lust that had been shading you vanishing in an downpour of rain. 

He pulls out of you with a kiss to your lips and runs to the bathroom to grab you something to wash up with. He returns cheerfully, and begins his work, but you grab his hand and stop him as the realisation hits you. 

"Y/N, I'm almost finished, just let me clean you up." 

"What did you mean? When you said I felt better than you remembered?" 

He stills, trying to search for the right words to say. He obviously doesn't find them, because he evades his eyes and continues cleaning you up, not answering. 

"Spencer, do not fucking ignore me. What did you mean?" 

"I'm sorry." That's all he says, and you feel bile rise in your throat. He kneels between your legs and runs a hand through his hair, discarding the washcloth and putting some distance between the two of you. 

"You're sorry?! Spencer, look at me right now." It takes him a minute, but he finally meets your gaze. 

"Spencer, how long has it been since you remembered everything?" You try to hope, to wish this was all a misunderstanding, that he was going to tell you right after he cleaned you up, but you interrupted him. 

"Y/N, I have an eidetic memory…" The way his voice cracks finally has tears welling in your eyes. "I never forgot. How could I?" 

The wind ripples into the window, and as the temperature drops so does your heart. It falls to the floor and shatters into pieces as you discover his lie. 

"I think you should go. Go home." You say, as a tear finally escapes your eye, your stomach turning with the discovery that he really was too good to be true. 

"Y/N, please-"

"No. I want to be alone, let me… let me think, please." 

"Y/N, really, I think we should-" 

"Get out!" You shout, and that when your body starts heaving in sobs as you pick up anything near that you can find to gather up around yourself. The strength of your outrage, the display of emotions temporarily startles Spencer into supplication, and he gathers his clothes quickly. 

You sob watching him move around the busy space, you sob as he turns around to try to speak again, abandoning each attempt. You sob the hardest when he leaves, and you are alone in your apartment with all the weight of his dishonesty pushed upon you. 

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

[reiderwriter]

reiderwriter 5k writing challenge

hello, my lovelies, and thank you so much for 5k followers~♡ it's been just under a year since I started writing on here, and it's been so fun interacting with everyone and writing for Spencer and the other members of the BAU team! I was a bit unprepared for some of my other milestones and threw some stuff together last minute for them, but I've been thinking about a writing challenge for a while and I finally decided to do it!

Please note: This is a writing challenge! All the prompts below are meant to inspire you to write your own fics and not as prompt requests for me. I hope you can use them as a starting point to write~♡

The theme for the challenge is:

daydreams and shooting stars`☆

There are two sets of prompts to choose from! The daydreams' prompts are based on classic fanfiction tropes that we know and live, and the shooting stars prompts are based on the zodiac signs. There are 12 prompts in each list, and you're welcome to mix and match prompts as you like! Maybe you'd like to combine your star sign with your favourite trope, or two particularly match well, or if you like a single prompt, you can just write for that. I don't mind if the fic is only very loosely based on the prompt, too, do whatever you'd like!

The writing challenge will run up until my 1 year writing anniversary, July 27th, so you have plenty of time to get your fics in! I'll be reblogging all the entries, and at the end, I'll add them to a recommendation list! Be sure to tag @reiderwriter in your fic, or use the hashtag #reidersdaydreams or #reidersshootingstars in your tags! I'll be tracking both~♡ You can submit as many entries as you like!

Rules for submissions will be at the end. Please read them before submitting~♡

without further ado, here are the prompt lists~☆

DAYDREAMS

ONLY ONE BED - a true classic in the sense that I will be reading only one bed fics down to the second I take my last breath. Feel free to invert this to "too many beds," or even "no beds at all, but somehow we're still cuddling," either way, I will read it and likely enjoy it greatly.

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE - which character is grumpy, which character is sunshine? my favourite grumpy x sunshine dynamics are the gloomy character trying their best to become more sunny after a tough life 🫡

FAKE DATING - we, in the criminal minds fandom, have written possibly every undercover mission possible to make our characters make out, but I'm coming in as a simple woman to ask - please do it again 🫶

OH. OH. - the plot revelations! Give me them! The sudden moments of clarity! I'm a fan, goddammit.

IDIOTS IN LOVE - there is nothing better than two huge dumbasses falling head over heels in love with each other in an "aw shucks" kind of way. Also, I'm an idiot, representation matters.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE - coffee shop AU? Soulmate AU? HANAHAKI AU? If someone could please un- or re- traumatise my favourite characters I will be eternally grateful

SECRET IDENTITY - give the character their Emily Prentiss Lauren Reynolds moment, or just make them dress like a clown for like 30 minutes. Both count.

MUTUAL PINING - This harkens back to idiots in love, but it's about the LONGING, it's about the PITIFUL STARES, it's about the BURNING PASSION.

SECRET RELATIONSHIP - my love of gossip makes me a sucker for secret relationship stories because I truly want to be in everyone's business. Character A and B are dating? Brilliant. It's a secret? BRILLIANT.

SICK FIC - your poor little meow meow has a cold. Or your poor little meow meow has been poisoned with anthrax. Or your poor little meow meow is dealing with possible symptoms of schizophrenia. Or your poor little meow meow has been shot-

PSYCHO X PSYCHO - reidams fans, this one's for you 🥰

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - half of my requests are enemies to lovers requests! Feel free to include rivals to lovers, lovers to enemies, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, or any such dynamic that your heart desires.

SHOOTING STARS:

Aries - "I burn for you. I can't sleep at night for wanting you. It's the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is."

Taurus - "There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

Gemini - "There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne, it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."

Cancer - "I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

Leo - "There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion."

Virgo - "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."

Libra - "Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are."

Scorpio - "She didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived."

Sagittarius - "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."

Capricorn - "There's a low-level, specific pain and having to accept that putting up with you requires a certain generosity of spirit in your loved ones."

Aquarius - "An education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs, and then you had the urge to pass it on."

Pisces - "I think it's perfectly acceptable and rather admirable to be moderately delusional."

Rules:

I'm accepting reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fics for this challenge. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character from any fandom you write for. I assume a lot of people will stick with CM, but feel free to write for whoever you choose!

Please tag me in your entries or send the link to me in a DM. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge. Again, the tags I'm tracking are #reidersdaydreams and #reidersshootingstars ♡

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I will not endorse, nor do I want to read smut written by minors. I will check the ages of accounts posting smut.

For smut or angst fics that could include triggers, please include a content warning above the fic so we can be aware before reading!!

Enjoy!!

[reiderwriter]

♟️ Please, Let Me Know That It's Real ♟️

Chapter 10 of That's What You Get

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Emily and Penelope take care of you after Spencer's dishonesty comes to light. They help you fill in some missing pieces of the puzzle that is your relationship.

Warnings: angst, but hopeful angst. Spencer is an idiot. No, you don't find out who the other witness is yet.

A/N: We're so close to the end 😭 I'm feeling bittersweet about this one because I'm excited to wrap it up but I also don't want to!!! It's been so fun to write. There are two chapters left after this, so please stay tuned for those ♥️ You can find my main masterlist here, and my special kinktober masterlist here if you missed the smut in this one. My requests are open until the end of the month too, so of you had any ideas, let me know!

There were no words to describe how you felt wasting away in bed that next day. You couldn't say whether a minute passed, or an hour passed or if time had simply ceased when he'd left. You just knew that there was a weight pressing down into your heart, a grief filling your lungs and stuttering your breath. 

You had the vague sensation of someone entering your apartment, wrapping their arms around you and telling you that you'd be okay before you drifted off into a coma-like sleep. Instead of escaping everything, though, you had to relive it all, again and again. 

You'd woken up chained to that bed again and he was there telling you how guilty and horrible he felt, and you'd practically shoved the words into his mouth. But he hadn't told you he didn't remember. 

You'd woken up in his bed again, and he still wasn't there, trying to avoid you getting your memories back, the one thing you were trying to work towards together. 

You'd woken up in his arms, walking you back towards his bed as you were telling him you remembered. The gleam in his eyes though wasn't excitement, happy to receive any news about what could've happened before, but fear. What did you remember, and would you figure out he'd been lying? 

You'd woken up a mess, and you wanted to go right back to sleep. 

When you finally did come to, the tears that had dried against your skin began to Spring again, the sobs silently wrecking your body as you disappeared under the darkness of your comforter.

Spencer had known. He'd known the entire time about everything that had happened, he'd practically told you as much from the very beginning. But he'd also let you assume that he didn't, and you weren't sure if you were angrier at him or yourself. Something happened on your wedding night, beside the intimacy, that he obviously didn't want you to remember, having gone to such great lengths to hold you at an arm's distance away whilst embracing you tightly. Parts of your body still held traces of him, and you were too emotionally exhausted to drag yourself out of bed to wash him away.

You wanted to call him. You wanted to make him come back and explain, and beg for forgiveness, or tell you it had been some kind of horrific miscommunication. You wanted to never see him again. 

Penelope bought food, and Emily got you cleaned up, pulling you into the bathroom and wiping the tears from your face as she ran a bath for you, helping your shivering form into it. You hadn't called or texted either of them, but you didn't question their appearance until after you'd eaten, feeling a little less broken. 

"How did you know?" The two of them looked at each other over the food on the table, unable to hide the worrying glances they were sending each other. 

"Spencer. He texted me, asked me to check in on you." Penelope explained, and you're heart cracked hearing his name. 

"Of course he did." You hated that even when you were supposed to hate him, he was still intent on taking care of you. You'd excused yourself from their company and climbed back into bed, grateful that neither woman had tried to stop you. They did follow you though. 

"Wait, Y/N. Spencer told us you needed us, but he didn't tell us what happened. Maybe talking about it would help." They sat carefully on opposite edges of your bed, waiting for you to un-cocoon yourself and talk. 

The first few attempts, you couldn't make it, too close to shattering to pieces again. With a gentle squeeze of your hand and a encouraging nod, you started telling them about the night before. 

"I chased after him yesterday and I caught him in the parking lot. And he never takes his car, but he was there and I thought it was some kind of sign." You sniffled and pulled the quilt off your face some more, sitting up to continue what you knew would probably be a long story. 

"We finally acknowledged everything and… God, I think I told him I love him. I do, and that's why it's all so shitty and ruined." Your throat grew thick with the pain and fluttering, memories from the night before seeping into you and grabbing a hold. 

"I told him I remembered, finally. He asked me how much, and I just kept trying to flirt with him. I didn't realize anything was wrong until  after we'd…" You flushed, shy all of a sudden as you felt all the shame of the previous night's interactions. 

"He said some things in the heat of the moment… he said I felt better than he remembered." 

"Y/N, that doesn't sound so bad, that's just-" 

"He wasn't supposed to remember. Neither of us were supposed to remember, fuck I think we would've been happier if we hadn't." You shut your eyes, the lights suddenly sparking a pain behind your eyes as your tears stung. 

"He didn't forget anything about Vegas. I think maybe it's my fault for assuming he did, because he just went ahead and reminded me of his stupid fucking eidetic memory." 

You let your head fall back to the pillow again and curse yourself, the extended cut of the last three weeks flickering to life in your head again. 

"Y/N…" Penelope started taking a gentle hand and patting your head as she struggled to find the words to comfort you. 

"Y/N, this is not the end of the world." Emily was blunt in her words and for a second they snapped you out of your self imposed pity party. "I thought he'd rejected you, or served you divorce papers or something." 

The anger crept up in you quickly as you shut your ears to what Emily was saying. 

"God, Emily, it's not that fucking easy you know.

"How would you know? Did you try to listen to him? Ask him why he did it?" You snapped your mouth shut, still angry but momentarily softened to the words she was saying. 

"Look, it's not like he confessed his love for me. He fucked me and then I caught him in a lie." You were exasperated at having to explain your emotions again and again but this time the wound had been ripped raw. He hadn't said those last words. 

"Oh, sweetie. That's what this is all about, isn't it? You think he held back because he doesn't love you?" Emily's tone had softened completely and you found yourself suddenly shaking with tears, unable to answer, just nodding your head back and forth while you contained the loud echoes of pain from escaping your body. 

"I need to stop starting sentences with 'don't hate me, but', but this time I think it's absolutely necessary." Penelope squeaked the other words from your other side and you drew yourself up again to hear her out. 

"Penelope, you're here making sure I am still breathing while I'm in the middle of an entirely selfish crisis. I think if I even thought about you negatively, a puppy would die or something." 

"Save that bravado for after this." She pulled out her phone then and scrolled through it for a second, searching for something. "Now I need you to know that I only withheld this in the hopes that I could play it at your actual wedding, where I would obviously be maid-of-honour, but as that plan has backfired I think I need to show you it now." 

She handed you the phone, and you noticed a video was playing. The camera was shaky, so it took you a few minutes to figure out what it was you were looking at.

The Elvis impersonator was the thing that tipped you off to the fact that this was probably your wedding venue. Sure enough, when the camera focused, zoomed in a bit, there the two of you were. 

"We're going to do the ring exchange now, if you'd like to repeat after me-" discount, slightly rotund Elvis said in a horrendous accent, but he wasn't allowed to finish. 

"We can do our own vows, right? That's allowed?" 

"For the amount of money you're paying me, you could consummate the marriage right here and I wouldn't give a damn." Your past self in the video had flushed at that, and you were glad that you hadn't jumped at the chance the way you had in the hotel room. 

Spencer brushed it off, clearing his throat and starting again. “Y/N, I don’t remember when I started loving you, which is absolutely ironic because I remember everything else. I think I just woke up one day and knew that I’d either spend my life watching you, or take this final leap to have you. Don’t look at me like that, I’m being serious, we’re getting married.” 

Your grin was wide, genuine happiness setting you alight. The two of you giggled a little bit before a glare from Elvis's direction led you to believe that his generosity only extended so far. 

“Let me try again. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too good for me. And I love you so much it aches. Everytime you say anything I’m caught hanging on any word. Every time you mention a book you’ve enjoyed, I read it cover to cover 50 times that week. Every time you tell me something stupid, like what your favorite flower is, I get this overwhelming urge to… to buy myself some flowers, so that if you ever turned up at my house, they’d be there waiting for you.” 

“I don’t know if you’ll remember this in the morning, or if I’ll be too scared to remind you, but I love you Y/N. And I’ll keep loving you no matter what happens.” His hands were gripped so tightly around your waist that he'd had to whisper some of the last words into the air between you, the space suddenly so narrow. 

You stopped the video there, throwing the phone back at Penelope, ready to bask in your idiocy, but she didn't let you. 

"You need to watch it all, come on, mother knows best." You rolled your eyes at her and sat yourself straighter again, taking the phone from her again and pressing play as Emily looked over your shoulder, watching too. 

It was your turn for the vows. 

“Spencer Reid. If I don’t remember how much I love you now in the morning, if I somehow manage to ignore this absolute feeling of bliss and rightness, I need you to fight for me. I need you to remind me how much I love you. I need you to remind me how we ended up here. I need you. I’ll never stop needing you.” The video had ended seconds after that, Spencer having lunged for you with both hands pulling your lips into his as he sealed the deal with a kiss. One you could swear you still felt tingling against your lips. 

"I paused it there because I didn't want to see if you'd take Elvis up on his deal." You heard Penelope's words but didn't register them, not really. 

"He didn't… He didn't fight for me." Your words weren't sad, but they obviously weren't the words either woman was expecting. 

"Y/N, did you not hear him? He loves you!" Emily almost shook you to wake you up from whatever daze you were in, but you were throwing your sheets off in a second and scrambling out of bed. 

"He didn't even tell me. Oh my god… I'm going to…" You ran a stray hand through your hair as you let out an incredulous laugh, not believing any of the last twenty four hours. Your next move was to lunge for your own phone, dialing his number before you could be stopped. Penelope did try though, before Emily out a warning hand on her shoulder, interested to see where it was you were going with this. 

"Spencer," you said into the receiver when he finally picked up. A single ring and he was there like he'd been waiting for you this entire time. 

"Y/N, I love you, I'm sorry." The words caught in his throat and his voice was weak but they made your heart skip a beat nonetheless. You hoped none of that reflected in your voice at all. 

"Spencer, I want to see you. Now." He barely had time to agree before you were hanging up, turning around with a half manic laugh again as you begin pulling yourself together. 

"Emily, Pen, thank you for everything but-" 

"You don't have to explain, I think we were just leaving actually." Emily smiled up at you, confident that you knew what you were doing. 

"No, no wait, please explain! I need an explanation, Y/N, what-" 

"If you'll excuse us." Emily guided Penelope swiftly out of the door and you were suddenly once again alone in your apartment. 

Pulling yourself together. You'd had a bath but you still felt groggy, so you hopped in the shower and thought about the time Spencer had taken a bullet for you. It had really only grazed his vest, but he'd been the one to grab you and change your positions so you were safe nonetheless. He'd done it and you'd never been sure why. 

You sat and dried your hair and contemplated. He'd helped you with countless case files ove the years. The others had joked before by putting their work on his desk, knowing he'd have it completed for them, serious or not. He'd only ever voluntarily taken files from your desk though. He'd said it was because he could do them quicker, but that was always a none answer. 

You picked your outfit out carefully as you thought about all the times you'd woken up with a blanket covering you after a nap on the jet. You'd seen JJ wrap them around team members before and just assumed it had been her, but now you weren't so sure. 

You stood at the door looking down at a message that said he was almost here and you thought about the last few weeks. And you thought about how much he loved you, and how much you definitely loved him and you waited at the door, engagement ring sitting on your hand as you waited for him to knock. 

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

[reiderwriter]

At Long Last Love Has Arrived

Final Chapter of That's What You Get

Summary: After a hard case, the team gathers in a celebration of love and friendship.

Warnings: suggestive content, no smut. Spoilers for Seaaon 7 Episodes "Hit" and "Run."

A/N: This is it! This is the final chapter! It's been a long journey and I'm so thankful to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, and generally followed along with the story! And to anyone who is here now that it's finished: Thank you as well! For now, this is everything I have planned for this series, but I might add a few epilogues a few months down the line!

For everyone waiting for my last week of kinktober content, thank you for being so patient! I'm hoping to get it all finished and the backlog up this weekend, so let's just count this as a super special weekend special!

As always, you can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here!

It was late in the day when the case finally wrapped, and you'd never felt more relieved to have come out of a case unscathed. 

JJ was a wreck, obviously, having had her family targeted and believing on multiple occasions that she was about to lose her partner. Emily was acting strange, too, and you were growing more concerned with her, especially after she'd put herself in harm's way to save Will. 

The team was exhausted, and you gladly slunked away that night, practically falling into your own apartment as you tried to bury a day of close calls. Spencer followed you, of course. The two of you sat silently together after the days events, just thankful to have company, really. 

Your husband (you were still warming yourself up to that title) sat, jaw tensed, on your couch, book in hand and hair a mess as you sat beside him, slowly sinking further into the couch as you thanked the gods that everyone got through that, but especially him. 

"Spencer," you whispered, looking at him to see if he'd notice your small sounds. No reaction.

"Spencer." You tried again, still in a whisper, but he still didn't make a move. Sighing and falling further into the couch, you decided just to go for it and laid your head in his lap quietly, closing your eyes and finding a comfortable position. He didn't bat an eye, though, simply tangling a hand through your hair and gently stroking it until the comforting repetition pulled you into a dreamless slumber. 

He tried to wake you up gently a few hours later, but the shrill ring of his cell interrupted his gentle touches. You gasped and startled up, almost headbutting him but instead ending up face to face, close enough to hear the hitch in his breath as he caught you just before you collided. 

"Sorry… I must've fallen asleep." Your voice was low, mostly because you'd let your gaze fall down to his lips, getting distracted by his proximity. 

"You did." He said, stroking your back and looking just as distracted. 

"We should probably pick that call up, right," you suggested, but you were already being drawn into his orbit, noses practically touching.

"Maybe we should," he replied, but instead of moving to do so, he simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and pulled your face up to his. The slant of his lips against yours was calming, so sweet and familiar, and so goddamn good that it helped drown out the pitchy screech of his phone. His hand stayed firmly on your jaw, controlling your movements and showing you exactly what he wanted in these stolen moments.

As the kiss went on, it grew hotter, a gentle flame searing your chest as you begged his lips to put it out, needing more and more of him. His hand left your jaw, falling instead to your ass as he pulled you on top of him fully, letting you straddle him as he kept your lips connected. 

You were entranced, letting him devour you to your heart's content. You wanted to move your hips to feel more of him at your core, but he had a firm grip and wasn't letting you go that easily. 

"Talk about topping from the bottom," you laughed into his ear as you pulled away for a second, pushing your hair behind your ear before he grabbed you and pulled you down for another hungry kiss.

"Don't get bratty, Y/N, we both know you're a pillow princess," you laughed at that and he took advantage, pressing his lips to your neck as he finally let your hips fall to meet his. Your laugh morphed into a hiss as you desperately clung to his shoulders, head thrown back in the bliss of what was to come. 

The ringing had stopped, thankfully, and honestly, it was so far from your mind that you'd almost completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place.

Until it started again, except this time it was vibrations in your pants and you practically moaned out loud before clapping a hand over your mouth and bolting from Spencer's lap, grabbing your phone as fast as you could while Spencer barely contained his enjoyment of the situation. 

"This is Y/N." You said into the receiver as you glared daggers at him. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but considering Doctor Reid just let my call ring out, I think I might have." David Rossi's barely contained mirth was evident even through the phone, and you mouthed some bad words at Spencer as he grabbed you and pulled you down into his lap again. 

"Since that wasn't a question, I won't be dignified it with a response. Is there anything you need, Rossi?" You asked, tipping your head back against Spencer’s shoulder but not letting yourself relax just yet. You'd never be able to live it down if you made any mistakes on this call. 

"Somehow, the knuckleheads around me keep getting engaged and married, and as a generous soul, I find myself wanting to help them." 

"Who got engaged?" You said, suddenly perking up. It'd been a tough day. Some good news and a celebration were direly needed. 

"Relax, I'm getting there. Are you and your now seemingly permanent husband free tomorrow night? A little birdie may have told me about a certain blonde finally giving into a proposal today. That same birdie may also have already flown out a Mrs. Jareau to bare witness."

"David Rossi, has anyone ever told you what a wonderful man you are?" 

"Not enough, I'm sure."

"We'll be there. What time?" He told you the details, and you whispered them into Spencer's ear, knowing that was just as good as jotting it down on paper. 

"And Rossi?" You said, as you were about to say your goodbyes, "thank you. For everything." The call ended and looked back up at Spencer from your place on his lap. 

"I think we have another shotgun wedding to attend." 

–X– 

Waiting for JJ to come down in her wedding dress, you were reminded again of what a truly wonderful choice of husband you had made. 

The two of you had arrived together at the wedding, but had made a small attempt to separate yourselves for now, not wanting to take the attention away from JJ and Will on their big day after their nightmarish week. You'd had a quick wink from Penelope, though, and a wiggle of the eyebrows from Emily, which made you chuckle as she handed you a flute of champagne. 

"You look incredible, Mrs. Reid." She said under her breath, and you giggled a bit but called her off as best you could. 

"Laying low for now, so keep your mouth shut, Agent Prentiss." She stuck her tongue out at you, and the two of you burst into laughter as you enjoyed the peaceful ambience Rossi had created in his back garden. 

"If Rossi ever re-retires, he should think of pursuing a career as a party planner. I know writing is working out well for him, but damn, that man could make a killing." Emily joked, catching your attention for a second, but you were distracted, eyes watching Reid from across the lawn. 

He was crouched down beside Henry, showing the eager, bright-eyed boy a magic trick. He looked so happy, so genuinely engaged with Henry, focusing his entire attention on him, that you couldn't help but watch on fondly. You knew how it felt to have his attention devoted entirely on you, and you felt your skin grow warm as you imagined how he would be with his own children. 

With your children. 

"Looking a little feverish there, Y/N. Baby feverish." In embarrassment, you looked away, letting your eyes fall around the lawn to anything but Reid as you tried to stammer out a response. 

"Whatever could you mean? Oh, would you look at that, Hotch is calling me over, see you." 

A skilful exit it was not, and now you'd forced yourself to go and make awkward conversation with your boss for a few minutes to escape the cackles of laughter escaping Emily behind you. You felt your ears glow red as you slowly marched across the lawn, convinced that someone was going to try and extinguish you before you reached your destination. 

Luckily, Beth saw you approach before Hotchner did and called out to you, extending a smile and a greeting. 

"Y/N, you look lovely. It's great to see you. How have you been?" You exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a while before Hotch cut in again. 

''Beth, I think the ceremony is starting soon. Would you mind finding Jack for me while I discuss something with Y/N?" He dismissed her effortlessly, and you suddenly dreaded the conversation that was about to come, noting your slip up from a few nights before. 

"Y/N, I don't mean to pry, but I've been meaning to ask you about your relationship with Spencer." Your eyes opened wide as you blinked at him again for another second. 

"Hold on, you don't know?" He looked down at you with a furrowed brow, somehow thinking you'd both misunderstood the conversation and where it was headed. 

In all honesty, you'd jumped to the conclusion after his warning over the phone the day before that he'd known about your relationship with Spencer. It didn't really make all that much sense to you, but you thought he must've been your second witness, only because there were very few people with the power to keep Penelope Garcia silent. But now, you wondered if you'd been wrong.

"Don't know what? Y/N, I'm simply asking a question about your physical relationship with Reid and if you think it will color either of your judgements on cases." 

"Physical… oh my god." You begged the earth to swallow you whole at that point. 

"I'm correct in thinking you two had relations whilst we were staying in Las Vegas, am I not?" His brow stayed furrowed as he fished for more information.

"How… How did you know?" 

"Spencer babbled about Star Trek in the lobby that last morning in Vegas. He seemed nervous, and combined with your suspicious attitude, it wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. Plants aren't great hiding spots, Y/N." 

"Oh god," you groaned again, a hand falling to your mouth to cover your shocked face as you took everything in. He'd practically known from the start, even if he hadn't really known. "So you want to know if we can be trusted to stay impartial in the field." 

"Simply put, yes, it is a concern of mine. The FBI technically frowns on casual hookups between employees, but in this case, if you can work professionally-" 

"We're married," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You almost enjoyed the shock on Aaron Hotchner's face as you dropped that bombshell, as momentary as it was. 

"That certainly…changes things." He considered your words for a moment before opening his mouth again. "We can talk about this in the office on Monday. For now, congratulations are in order." 

As you clicked your glasses together awkwardly, Rossi gathered everyone's attention, ready to begin the ceremony. You took your place next to Spencer and let him grab your hand and squeeze it for a moment, sharing a look before you turned your gaze back to JJ and watched as her mother walked her down the aisle to marry the love of her life. 

His hand in yours was warm and constant, and he held you so softly that you felt like you were floating. He'd been worried that morning that you'd feel slightly forlorn at the wedding ceremony. After all, you didn't have much of one, even if he'd promised you 100 do-overs and vow renewals. 

But standing here with him, you found yourself feeling thankful simply that he was there with you. Your wedding had been perfect, and you gladly applauded JJ and Will as they finally kissed at the altar, wishing them all the bliss that you felt in that moment. 

The party was a blast and you had an amazing time eating, drinking and dancing with all your guests, gladly taking the opportunity to hog Spencer for a few dances, enjoying how you were able to shamelessly cling to him with no one batting an eye. Your joy and laughter spilt out every time he swung you around and pulled you into him, abuzz with love. 

You were almost glad when JJ called you all in for a quick speech, grateful to let your feet have a rest - Spencer may have been dancing enthusiastically, but he was still Spencer, and your toes had been attacked a few times in the course of your few dances. 

"I want to say thank you for coming here tonight, and, of course, thank you, Rossi, for hosting this beautiful wedding. It's not every day we get to celebrate a wedding in the BAU, let alone two in one year, so I'm just thankful we got to come together to celebrate like this." 

Will looked perplexed by her side as she raised her flute to start the toast. 

"Hold on, who else got married?" 

Your eyes widened as you stopped your champagne flute by your lips, suddenly catching on to the thread of conversation. 

"Oh my god, it was you!" You shouted, jumping up and probably confusing every single guest in attendance. "JJ, you- you were the other witness!" You stood there shaking a pointed finger at her, semi shocked. 

"Witness to what?" Morgan asked tentatively, wondering what he'd been left out of for a second. 

"I guess the cats out the bag. Sorry, Spence." 

"Why are you apologising to Spencer? Who got married?" Derek's questions were going unanswered, though, as you blubbered in the middle of the crowd suddenly put the pieces together. 

"You know, the FBI really shot themselves in the foot when they let you go over to Homeland. You're good." You cracked a smile at JJ, and she smiled back, just as you felt a hand on your back. 

"We didn't want to announce it here and hijack your wedding, but since you kinda let it slip first, would you mind if we…?" Spencer vaguely gestured between you, just as JJ let him take the floor, her and Will standing off to the side as Spencer turned the both of you around to face the crowd. 

You tried to meet his gaze as he did  but his eyes stayed trained on the crowd in front of you instead. Still puzzled, he began to talk, and you listened. 

"Last month, we chose to get married in Las Vegas," he started and braced for impact as he looked out at the audience. "And- and it seems like most of you knew that?" He'd theorised that most of your team knew already, but he wasn't prepared for just how many of them stood looking back at him with a sheepish 'yes, we know' look on their faces. 

"Wait, how do so many of you know?" He glanced around the crowd, landing on Rossi's gloating face first. 

"Don't look at me kid, you told me about it, and I kept my mouth shut."

He turned to Emily next. "Y/N sent me a text meant for someone else, and I tortured the information out of her after that." 

Exasperated, he looked down at you before shaking his head and looking at Hotch. 

"I expressed some concerns about your… involvement earlier, and Y/N informed me about your relationship status." He explained, tone serious in that mocking way only he could carry off. 

"And I was there, and so was Penelope." JJ filled in the gaps, leaving you feeling particularly bashful at Spencer’s side.

In a second, though, you were consumed by giggles as Morgan whipped around on Penelope dramatically. 

"Et tu, baby girl? Am I seriously the only one who didn't know?" Morgan glanced around receiving pats on the back from the crowd as they slowly trickled back to the dance floor, picking up extra drinks as they went. 

"No, I'm there with you, Morgan. JJ didn't even tell me you guys were dating." Will said, looking genuinely taken aback once again. 

"Oh, well. That's probably because we didn't actually date. We just got married." You replied, feeling your face flood with heat as you stuttered the words out once again. 

"You're telling me I had to almost die to get JJ to agree to marry me, even after 7 years of dating and a child, and you managed to convince a woman to do it in one night in Vegas?" Will seemed genuinely impressed, and with a laugh, gave Spencer a clap on the back awkwardly as he offered his congratulations. 

Penelope led Morgan away to console him, and the other happy couple walked back to the dance floor again as well, leaving you in the arms of your husband, as you finally had to face your small mistakes. 

"So, Mrs. Reid, whatever happened to keeping this to ourselves for a while?" 

"Honest mistakes, both of them, I swear." He took your hands in his and pulled them up so he could kiss your wrists before gently dropping them and pulling you in at the waist. 

His mouth fell to your ears as he spoke again. 

"And I was so looking forward to using one of the methods we brainstormed the other night." You stood confused for a second as he pulled back to watch your expressions, your mouth twitching the second you realised what he meant. 

Ring. Motel. Loud sex. And breeding you until he knocked you up. 

Clearing your throat, you wrapped your arms up and around his shoulders, hanging yourself off him, putting yourself at his mercy as you fluttered your eyelashes up at him. 

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil your enjoyment now, would I? I'm sure we can still find the time to try those methods out." 

The excitement in his eyes was almost comical, and you genuinely yelped as he literally swept you off your feet. 

"Spencer, what are you doing? Put me down!" 

"No, you're coming home with me, Mrs. Reid. Sorry, it's official now. You're mine."

"And I'm not going to forget it easily, now put me down." 

"And let you go back on your promise to let me do some very dirty things to you? Never." 

With another startled squeak, he carried you through the crowd and right to the doors, carrying you all the way into your new life together.

At long last, your love had arrived, and he was carrying you away into your future.

🏷 @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @whovianwholikesgirls @doriantomybasil

[reiderwriter]

REQUESTS OPEN!

I'm not sure if you can tell but I've had like zero motivation these days to write, so I'm looking for requests for motivation! I will likely close requests again if too many come through but yeah!

Open to writing:

Smut

Fluff

Angst (ish)

But literally only for Spencer Reid

I also haven't seen any of CME yet so please.... please don't mention that to me lmao

You cam find more in depth request guidelines ->

Here

[reiderwriter]

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I hope you enjoy your time here~♡

[reiderwriter]

♡Playlist: Me and You 2024♡

Happy New Year! As I've previously hinted, this year, I'm going to be challenging myself to write one song fic per week! Every week, I'll put one of my playlists on shuffle and pick a new song to write a Spencer Reid x Reader fic inspired by the lyrics, genre, and general vibes!

These fics could be any genre or rating (smut, fluff or angst, etc.), and once they're complete, I'll post them again here in this masterlist! ♡

The posting schedule for now is every Thursday! Once a month, I will also be taking inbox requests with song recommendations, and I'll choose one to make into the final fic of the month! This means that you have from now until January 22nd to recommend a song for the last Thursday post of January, and I'll reopen my inbox once a month for more recommendations!~

I hope this can be a fun interactive fic series and that you all enjoy the fics I write with our favourite songs in mind! 🥰 You can find the links below the cut!

♤= Angst ♡= Fluff ◇= Smut

♡ Spotify Playlist Link ♡

JANUARY

Week One - Alcohol Free by TWICE ♡ 1.5k

Week Two - My Love Is Mine All Mine by mitski ♡♤ 2.2k

Week Three - Forever Only by Jaehyun ◇ 3.7k

Week Four - 505 by Arctic Monkeys ◇ 2.7k

FEBRUARY

Week Five - Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper ◇ 4.3k

Week Six

Week Seven

Week Eight

[reiderwriter]

Thoughts on unsub spencer reid fics?

Hi! I'm not sure if you wanted more of a general answer or meant this as a headcanon or gen request, so I'm just going to go purely on vibes and answer this as a question.

Spencer as an Unsub - Thoughts

Disclaimer: Anything negative said here is absolutely not an insult towards any specific writer or fic. I don't really read unsub Reid fics, due to facts I'm about to get into, so I'm really not knowledgeable enough to be throwing shade 💀 This is personal opinion!

I personally would need a lot of convincing to believe in an "unsub" Spencer Reid.

In Criminal Minds, it's clear from very early into the show that Spencer is very empathetic with certain unsubs. The entire team have their own types of cases that they get more personally involved in (Morgan and cases involving child victims, JJ and apparent suicides, Emily and quote unquote battered women cases) but Spencer is the only one whose personal attachment to cases leaves him empathising with the unsub instead of the victim.

He's the only member of the team who could have seen himself committing violent acts the way unsubs do had his life veered down a different path. And, based on Spencer's background and the psychology of the show, he's probably right to be concerned.

He's a white male, at the peak of the show in his mid to late thirties, with a background of abuse and a family history of mental illness. By season four, we know he's highly skilled with a gun, and by season 12/13, we see that he can be pushed to violence when he is at the very edge of his limitations.

And then they make his character so intrinsically moral that you never question him ever again.

To a certain extent, Criminal Minds is about the perpetual cycles of abuse that human kind can inflict upon itself. Many of the unsubs were once victims, some of them perhaps still are. The heroes of the story are characters who have been able to break the cycle.

Spencer is neglected as a child. He has an absent father abandon him, a mother with schizophrenia who does physically beat him when she is having an episode. He is bullied heavily in school for his high IQ and his lack of social skills. But he is shown to deeply care for him mother and empathise with her deeply instead of coming to resent her like many of the unsubs in that situation. He resents his father, for sure, but instead turns that resentment into drive, leading him to "just keep getting more PhDs." And his personal experiences with bullying allow him to empathise with the unsubs that have gone through similar circumstances.

So I don't think canonically, Spencer is ever in danger of becoming an unsub. He deeply cares about the world and the people around him, and whilst he does have a kill count on the show, he either expresses deep remorse at having to oull the trigger, or it is in the best interest for everyone involved.

Basically, all that to say: I think Unsub Spencer Reid in fanfiction has to be written incredibly carefully, or it runs the risk of being very out of character. To be clear, I'm not too bothered about characters being slightly out of character in fics because it happens. I've probably written a lot of stuff where Spencer is OOC, too. And that's fine.

I do kind of draw the line at grabbing random unsub traits from the show and giving them to Spencer for a fic. For example, Spencer would never end up as a sexual sadist. He probably wouldn't be a spree killer, either. Not that anyone wants my writing advice, but if you're writing an unsub Spencer fic, think about his background and the profiles they generally give for the kind of signature/ crimes you're about to give him.

If this was a request, I apologise for the misunderstanding. But here's a little hint at what I might do with a general "unsub Reid" request.

☆ It would most likely take place after the events of Season 12/13.

☆ It's angst or nothing.

☆ The basic plot: Reid's headaches come back after taking a blow in the field. He tries seeking help for it but can't find any relief. On his next case, because of his chronic pain, he makes a mistake that gets his teammate, the reader, shot. The unsub escapes, but the reader falls into a coma. When it looks like reader is not going to pull through, he tracks down the unsub and beats his to death after a brawl. Massive overkill. The reader pulls through that night, and he feels no guilt for getting that monster off the street. But each time the readers health takes a turn, or they require a new surgery, he is compelled to go back out there and track down and kill another serial killer until the reader finally wakes up.

☆ I don't think it'd be very well received because there would be no morally grey smut. This is some tragic angst shit only, lmao.

☆ please don't put a request for this in my inbox. If I feel like writing it later, I might, I don't have the brain power right now, though 💀

That's all I've got right now, but I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on unsub Reid :)

[reiderwriter]

I'm curious to hear your thoughts about the dom/sub debate when it comes to mr Spencer Reid.I personally lean towards believing he is more of a soft/rough dom depending on the day.And especially since your dom spencer fanfictions are some of my absolute favorites of all time (the margaritas part 2 had me weak on the knees),I would love to hear you profile my favorite profiler as to if he is a dom or a sub,which you believe is more true.(I know which one is like to believe to be more true😂)I would love to read your insight to his brain and how you understand him!Have a great day!! :)

Oh I would LOVE to get into it, and this is going to be a season by season break down so please bare with me lmao

Spoilers (kinda) for season 1-15 of Criminal Minds under the cut, only read up to where you are in the show!

Season One

You may be thinking "surely that is a sub" and you would be right, if he was having sex, which he is very clearly not. He graduated from his third PhD and then immediately joined the BAU, that is a virgin, your honor.

Season Two

At some point in season one, he loses his virginity. Probably to Lila Archer, maybe to Elle (no further questions, there are some amazing fanfictions that fill in this). But whoever he is doing it with is absolutely dominating him, he just doesn't know it.

Season Two Spencer is curious about BDSM, but having what he assumes is Vanilla sex (just because he isn't calling women Mommy yet, he thinks that he is having normal sex, when in reality he's like pathetically whining asking for release).

During his ongoing addiction days, I think he'd be more than happy to just switch off his brain during sex and just follow orders, do what he's told.

Season Three

A sub and he knows it. Still feels unconfident enough to not be in charge in the relationship, he likes switching his brain off when he fucks. But something does start to switch and he's suddenly a little bit more confident this season, so I can see him being a bit of a brat - talks back, doesn't follow rules, really very mouthy in front of other.

((The majority of my sub Spencer smut is set at around this time - I ❤️ whiny brats lmao))

Season Four

This is where I can see him becoming a bit more confident but I don't think he's a dom yet. I do think he's absolutely taking advantage of his leg injury and absolutely loving being ridden, not having to put in any work. I think after all this he decides he really likes the look on the other person's face when they're on the edge of ecstasy and he wants to explore drawing that out a bit.

Season Five

I think we're experimenting here. So many things have happened in his life by this point that I think he needs to gain control in some part of his life, and his sex life is just the easiest option. He's still giving switch energy, but that sudden short haircut? The brattier energy? He's suddenly coming into himself again, and he's definitely comfortable being a little more dominant now. But he's not an experienced dom yet, so I think he's just taking charge and telling his partners what to do, he's not into choking/ punishment/ degradation yet.

I can't remember if its season five or six where he points out he isn't a typical "alpha male." A lot of people take this to mean that he's calling himself a sub, which could definitely be the case, but also, I think he likes being underestimated sexually, because it makes it more exciting for him when he does get the upper hand in the relationship, which he does in that episode (he interviews the wife and then tells her that her husband killed the actual father of her child and makes her stare at their faces until she cracks and breaks down into tears. He offers her no comfort is all I'm saying... 👀)

Season Six

This is controversial, but I think from this point on, Spencer is fully a dom. He has that scare where he thinks he's "developing" Schizophrenia, and his constant headaches, he just needs release and I think he finds it in multiple beds, lmao. He does have that moment of vulnerability at the end of the season when everything happens with Emily, so I think if he's having sex it's back to Vanilla, but like really passionate, and I'm not saying that he'd fall in love with everyone who's bed he falls into but I'm just saying he needs companionship at the end of this season.

Season Seven

This season starts with him literally cutting off the board of directors at the FBI to correct them and standing by his decisions and if that isn't the biggest dick energy ever idk what is. He's angry, and he's frustrated, and he thinks the team overlooks him a little bit, so you know what he's going to do? He's going to dominate whoever he's in bed with to regain some of that control. I can see this as the time that Spencer finally really gets into more aspects of BDSM. He let's demeaning words slip out of his mouth during sex and then notes the positive reaction they get, so he keeps doing it until he can make the other person cum.

((The majority of my dom smut with Spencer is set at around this time.))

Season Eight

This isn't a Dom, this is a dumbass. I'm pretty confident that for the first half of the season, he's not having sex, because he's committed to Maeve and he never meets her. Then after she dies he's too depressed and busy to get out there. I think if he did go out and find someone to keep him company, it'd probably back to the post-Emily-Doyle arc where he just needs to feel someone close to him someone wrapped around him, someone holding him tight, so it's slow. It's passionate and it's loving, but he's still pretty detached about it. He literally doesn't care about finding a release, he'd rather just have the physical touch for a while.

Season Nine

Straight up dom. Will choke a bitch, regularly does. I can see him getting a little bit rougher now, probably gets asked to spank one of his partners and then does NOT want to stop ever doing that. Grows to lightly slapping in the face. He does literally tell Garcia that he has a dominant side, and she straight up ignores him, though, so I think he's pretty comfortable in people "underestimating" him, I guess?

When he gets shot in the last few episodes, he's literally ready to get back out there as soon as possible, and I think that applies to sexual encounters as well. When some of his other "traumatic events" happen, I can see him taking a break for a while, but with this one, he gets medical clearance and is immediately burying his head between someone's legs.

Season Ten

I am only on season 9 of my rewatch, and to be completely honest, nothing of merit really happens to Spencer in Season 10 from my memory, so I'm just going to assume that he's basically the same.

The only thing that really can be cause for concern is Gideon's death, and I think that does truly fuck him up for a while, but that's anger and grief mixed together, so I can see him moving between rough fucks and slow passionate needy sex for a few months while he works through all of that.

Season Eleven

Spencer Reid vs Cat Adams is literally dom on dom crime, the entirety of Entropy is just them trying to be the one topping one another. And we know who wins that battle, so...

Definitely into pet names and calling his partners little sluts, whores, bitches etc. I don't want to say that Morgan babied him, because their relationship really developed a lot over the seasons and deserves it's own non-horny post lmao, but I think Morgan leaving really allowed the writers to let Spencer take more of a dominant role in interrogations, investigations and the like. And he's the last person who really considers Spencer a "kid" (apart from Rossi who literally thinks of them all as children) so he no longer has to, I guess justify? his sexual behavior. He's just all-in on it now.

Season Twelve

Pre-prison Spencer Reid in season twelve is a bad lover. He's inattentive, literally just chasing his own needs, probably pumping and dumping and now really paying attention to the aspects of a role that a dominant really should - the after care and looking after the person who is submitting to him. Then he goes to prison.

When he gets out, I can absolutely see the man suddenly having a breeding kink, wanting to be so close to someone, for someone to have such absolute confidence in him that he can fuck them raw and neither of them will care about the consequences. He's still a little damaged though, so I can see him oscillating between needing slow comforting sex, and harsh sex, really leaning into punishment/reward play and experimenting with different kinks, and maybe even public sex.

After he starts working at the University, I think role-playing and calling him "sir" would also really turn him on, and for a while he'd think it's a little gross as he's literally a teacher, but after a while he doesn't care anymore because it makes him feel so good.

Season 13-15

It's the same as above. He's dominant, but he still needs taking care of, but at this point he's so closed off from the world that he'll never be able to submit to someone again. So slow, sloppy, passionate sex, lasting for hours and hours is probably his way to go. I can see him being the type of soft! Dom that is just asking for "just one more" orgasm, over and over again, and then just overwhelming his partner with aftercare - running them a bath, cleaning them up, making them food or a hot drink, propping some pillows up behind them. He's a real gentleman, and I think his emotional distance could probably break a lot of hearts.

OVERALL

He goes from the whiniest virgin-sub to a bratty switch, all the way to a rough dom and then settles into being a very soft caring dom in his later years.

That's just my opinion though, and I'd love to hear what everyone else thinks!! I really didn't look too much into what happens in each of these seasons because I put approximately 0% research and 100% opinion and what I would want to see (lmao) into this, so if there's something specific that happens that has you thinking that he'd have a certain preference in any season then PLEASE tell me.

[reiderwriter]

https://www.tumblr.com/scp372/73912837737?source=share

Anon, idk who you are, but so true bestie

[reiderwriter]

What are some pet names you think reid woukd like to call people and some that he would like to be called?

( Answer only if you want :D )

I've used a lot of different pet names in my fics, but if I'm being honest, most of them are like *my* personal preference pet names, haha. In total honesty, I don't see Reid as much of an actual pet name guy. I think he'd much rather prefer to use your name, first or last, especially if you're being intimate because he wants you to know that he's talking about you and only you?

But I think that changes for like, other people in his life. If he has kids, Spencer is absolutely coming up with the sweetest pet names, probably based on something cute his kids did in their toddler years. He'd probably call his daughters princesses (girl dad girl dad girl dad girl dad girl dad) and if they showed any interest in stem he'd totally call them something silly and cute like his little scientists. They probably call him Doctor Dad, because it's cute and I like it and this is all my opinion lmao.

Now, if we're talking NSFW - - - - >

Again, wishful thinking more than proof in Canon, but I like to think that Spencer gets very talkative in bed and can't help but use pet names. Early seasons Reid is probably rambling and moaning and calling you an angel. I have a whole other reply about which seasons Reid skews sub and which he skews dom, but I think he'd probably still enjoy calling his partner an angel either way. But when he's the Dom, he's ABSOLUTELY calling out some demeaning names. From his relationship with Cat, it's clear that he likes dangerous/ bratty women, so he's definitely throwing some kind of 'brat,' 'whore,' or 'slut' in there (or at least he does in my fics - again, I do what I want mainly lmao).

I do think though that he'd be the type to call you such a beautiful little slut and mean it as a compliment when in the bedroom. He's trying to compliment you, but the demeaning words are coming out, you know?

As for him, if you call him Doctor or Sir in bed it's a big ego boost. He likes the power that comes with the titles when they are respected for what they are. In the early seasons, Hotch makes it clear that he and Gideon always introduce him as Doctor Spencer Reid so that people will respect him and not underestimate him as much, and I think that is something he holds onto in the bedroom.

I hope this wasn't just a ramble of nothing lmao

[reiderwriter]

wow finally you wrote something other than smut. surprising and refreshing!

This feels... kinda condescending, lmao

If you missed it, I did a poll asking if people wanted smut or fluff, and smut got the vote, so like... I write what is requested idk lol

[reiderwriter]

Pookie, where are you?

Pookie is suffering from employment. Pookie will post something this weekend i PROMISE.

[reiderwriter]

HELP ME.. is this just one single anon targeting every single spencer writer ever???? 😭😭

Honestly, atp pick up a pen and start writing!!! The rest of us are just doing it wrong ig 💀💀💀

[reiderwriter]

Why do you write Spencer so ooc and ignore all his autistic traits? Not hate just genuinely curious.

Does he have to be in character? It's fanficfion. At least I'm more consistent with his autistic traits than the actual CM writers 🫡