imagine...

[prettyboyimagines]

When will you post some imagines? I love them!

Unfortunately, I have had no free time to write lately. However, I will try my hardest to find time [hopefully] in the near future. Thank you for reading! Have a fantastic day :)- Grace

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: You’re a bartender working your same bland job when suddenly a brown-haired cutie approaches you. Chatting briefly, he manages to slip you a piece of paper with his phone number written on it - in Roman Numerals. You call him as soon as your shift is over and he is shocked.

Good with Numbers// Fluff Requested by mentallydatingspencerreid

You sigh as you pour yet another concoction of various alcoholic beverages into a glass and hand it over to a sleazy, drunken dirtbag who replies with a slurred, “Thanks beautiful.”  You ignore his comment, flashing him a brief smile before peering up at the clock. Just another twenty minutes until the shift is over, and you couldn’t be happier. It’s not that you didn’t enjoy being hit on constantly by every member of the male population, you just know well enough by now than to associate your job with your personal relationships. The flashing lights burn your eyes and you find yourself peering over at the dance floor - a mess of sweaty, seemingly conjoined bodies - and just counting the seconds until you get to go home to your nice warm bed.  Out of the corner of your eye you can see two men approaching you. The way they carry themselves is almost foreign in a place like this. They have a certain authority to their step that makes you a little nervous, and suddenly your stomach is in knots.  “What can I get for you two gentlemen?” you ask, placing a hand on the bar and meeting eyes with the lankier brunette.  “Just a moment of your time, sweetheart.” the darker man answers. You immediately tilt your head in confusion.  “Do you recognize this man?” the handsome brunette asks, handing you a piece of paper. Your eyes float from one man to the next, still wondering why they are looking for this man.  “Why are you looking for him?”  “Oh I’m sorry, “ the other man starts, reading into his pocket to pull out a badge, “My name is S.S.A Derek Morgan, this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”  “Doctor, huh?” you raise your eyebrows at him. “You can call me Spencer.” he smiles back at you, his eyes briefly flickering down to your lips as he does.  “Well, I can’t say that I’ve ever seen this man around here before.” you sigh, feeling the young agent’s eyes on you, “But then again a lot of men come in here. They get drunk, throw a degrading and/or objective comment my way, and leave. I try to repress the memory of their faces.”  “Call us if you hear or see anything.” Spencer nods, sliding his card onto the bar.  “Will do.” you smile back, noticing how wide and brown his eyes are for the first time.  ‘Thank you for your time.” Derek smiles politely at you.  “Have a wonderful night.”  With a final comment, the agents disappear into the colossal sea of grinding bodies and bright lights. Curiosity gets the better of you as you pick up the agent’s card on the bar, squinting your eyes when you see another small piece of paper attached to the card.  Ten digits are sprawled across the white sheet of paper in messy handwriting. Immediately you recognize the strange symbols. They were Roman Numerals. A phone number, perhaps? But that wouldn’t make any sense considering the agent gave you his card,

Tilting your head to the side, you flip over the card, searching for a phone number. As expected, you find one. However, the tiny print beside the ten digits on the card are addressed to the police department tip line. 

The next fifteen or so minutes feel like an eternity as you continue to serve countless strangers. With five minutes until your shift ends, you grip the sheet of paper in your hands, examining each digit once again. Finally, you grab a pencil you keep inside of your purse and write down each Roman Numeral as a number. As your shift ends, you grab your cell phone, punching in the ten digits and praying to God that the sheet of paper belonged to the handsome agent and not some vulgar excuse for a human being.  After three rings, a voice answers the phone, “Hello?” You smile to yourself, relived to hear his voice.  “Hello again, doctor.” you state, “Boy am I glad that this number didn’t lead to some pizza place I’ve never heard of.”  “You figured it out.” he responds, you can hear the grin in his voice.  “What can I say, I’m pretty good with numbers of all kinds.” you pause, “Do you give your number to all the girls you meet?”  “Only the pretty ones with a hint of sass.” he laughs, “Would you be interested in grabbing a coffee sometime?”  “I would love to” you start, “Spencer.”

As you hang up the phone, Spencer peers down at his own with a wide smile.  “Was that her?” Morgan asks, shock crossing his face.  “I told you she was smart enough to figure it out.” 

[prettyboyimagines]

Submit!

Send me some short and sweet imagine ideas. Nothing too bland or depressing please, but include enough detail for me to really grasp your idea  :) - grace

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: You are an artist, and Spencer’s girlfriend. Naturally, you have page after page of drawings of him in your sketchbook, and he loves posing for you.

Masterpiece// Fluff Requested by: itsjustme-marissa  *Not my sketch, all rightful credits to the owner. Please contact me for credit*

You hug your black and white sweater closer to your body, taking a sip from the cup of hot chocolate you have nestled in your hands, and resting your head on the creamy white pillow behind you. Your boyfriend, and FBI profiler, Dr. Spencer Reid is due to arrive at your apartment any moment now, and you cannot wait to be back in his gentle embrace.

Your sketchpad rests on the coffee table by your feet and a wonderful black and white image of a half drawn rose stares back at you. Placing the cup of hot chocolate down on the table, you grasp the sketchpad in your hands, gripping a pencil with your fingers, and twirling it around with a sudden curiosity. The delightful and refreshing scent of the pumpkin pie scented candle dimly lit in the centre of the room inspires you as the led brushes up against the paper. You shift, sitting up with your legs pressed to your chest and carefully balancing the pad of paper on your thighs. Your wrist flickers delicately as gentle black strokes begin to decorate the plain paper. You nearly jump when you hear a knocking sound coming from your door.  Your head snaps in the direction of your door for a brief moment, before you all but toss the sketchpad and pencil on the couch beside you, jumping up to your feet and rushing towards the noise. Your feet are cold against the hardwood floor of your apartment, and you hug the patterned sweater you are wearing tighter to your frail body as you twist the doorknob and open the door.  Other than the cool October air instantly flooding into your apartment like an unwanted guest, on the other side of the wooden door stands your handsome boyfriend; only you think it’s him... Your lips tilt upwards into a wide smile as you examine his head. His once long brown locks of soft hair were gone, and replaced with a slightly shorter style.  “Oh my god,” you pause, “You look so adorable!” A slight pink tinge illuminates his cheeks, and you politely take a step back, allowing him to step across your doorframe, and into your slighter warmer apartment.  “Thank you.” he replies shyly, taking a step closer to you as you close the door, “You’re always adorable.” With that, he closes the space between the two of you, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.Your heart flutters wildly at the small physical display of affection. When you open your eyes to smile back at him, you unintentionally begin to study every intricate detail of his face. His plush pink lips. The way his brown eyes grow softer as he gazes back into your eyes. His gorgeous cheekbones and perfectly tousled brown hair.  “What is it?” he tilts his head to the side with a small grin.  “Nothing.” you smile back at him, your eyes flickering down to his lips before they meet the ground. “You’re just-” you start, lifting your chin once again, “Well, you’re a masterpiece.” Before Spencer has a chance to react to the compliment, your hand grabs his and you lead him into your living room.  “It smells nice in here.” Spencer states in a hushed tone, “Pumpkin?”  “Better.” you reply, guiding him to the couch, “Pumpkin pie.” As he sits down beside you, his eyes are met by your sketchpad on the coffee table.  “Were you drawing?” he asks, his fingers gripping the book with his hands and examining the flower, “That’s beautiful.” “Thank you.” you reply, using your finger to tuck a long lock of hair behind your ear, “Would you mind if I drew you?”  “Me?” Spencer asks in shock, “Are you sure I’m worthy to be in a sketchpad with such a beautiful rose?”  “Undoubtedly.” you smile, your head tilting to the side as you examine him with close precision.   “Then I would be honoured.” he laughs, “How do you want me to pose?” Spencer purses his lips, squinting his eyes far too much and placing a long finger under his chin. You laugh, vigorously shaking your head at how ridiculous he looks. “What?” he questions, feigning offense, “I thought you said I was a masterpiece.”  “Even masterpieces can use some direction.” you offer, reaching over to gently remove his hand from under his chin and placing it back in his lap.  “Well, I suppose you are the artist.” he rolls his eyes playfully, rubbing your knuckles with his fingers as he does so.  “Just relax.” you order, “Sit up straight and relax your shoulders.” He does as you say, relaxing his face into a more natural look, “Perfect.” you smile, grabbing your sketchpad and pencil, and moving to sit across from him. Your eyes widen as one of his fingers reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face, “Leave it be.” you protest, “You are perfect the way you are. No moving!”  You make a mental note to finish the rose at a later date before flipping the page and coming face to face with a blank sheet of paper. Soon, you grip the pencil and the first soft stroke of led brings the blank sheet of paper to life. Spencer chuckles as he studies your face. You are biting your lip and completely focused in the current task at hand. Shooting him a warning glance, he stops laughing and relaxes into his position once again. The lines dance against the paper, criss-crossing in every direction in a tasteful manner. Some run parallel to each other, while others take off on their own in a exquisite path of swirls and curves. The strokes alter from gentle to harsh, giving the image a unique texture. It seems like no time has passed at all when you begin shading in shadows of all different kinds, leaving no intricate detail left undrawn.  “Finished!” you smile, quite proud of your newest sketch. Spencer relaxes, slouching back on the couch as he waits for you to join him once again. You hand him the sketchpad, watching with complete and utter joy when his face lights up.  “Oh my God.” he says, “Are you sure this is me? He looks more handsome than me.”  “It must be like looking in a mirror.” you laugh, taking one of his hands in yours again and curling into his side. He kisses the top of your head. “Like I said, a masterpiece.”

[prettyboyimagines]

Feeling Inspired

It's late but I really want to write! There are no gifs of the newest episode online yet though :/ I would make them myself but I can never make good, high quality gifs.

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: Making love to Spencer for the very first time.

Make Love to Me//Fluffy smut Requested by many of you

You roll onto your side, staring at the slightly illuminated patterns on the fancy hotel wall. The soft fabric of the bedsheets tickle your bare skin, and serve as the perfect therapeutic treatment following the particularly exhausting day at work. Your vanilla scented perfume floods your nostrils, and you focus on the nearby sound of running water. As usual, some psychotic individual has sent you hours away from home and you are thereby forced to share a hotel room with one of your fellow colleagues. Under any other circumstances you would have happily roomed with JJ. but she was on vacation with her family. Your options included your boss, Hotch (yikes, no thanks!), the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan, and your wonderful boyfriend, Spencer Reid.   The sudden silence distracts you from your thoughts, and you close your eyes in a rather desperate attempt to get some rest. Despite everything, you fail. As soon as Spencer opens the bathroom door, your eyes fly open again. “Are you asleep?” he whispers foolishly. “No.” you smile, turning on your side to face him. You are taken aback by the sight of Dr. Spencer Reid without his usual formal attire, smiling as you examine his t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. The mattress shifts under you as he climbs into bed, catching your eye for a slight second before he licks his lips and turns to face you. “Are you alright?” he asks, a hint of concern laced within his voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?” you smile back at him. “Well, you usually room with JJ. Listen, if you’re uncomfortable with me here I can-” “Spence, you’re my boyfriend, you idiot. Of course I’m comfortable with you here.” you chuckle, leaning closer to him to place a soft kiss on his lips. The sudden closeness draws something to your immediate attention; you are feeling particularly racy yet romantic tonight. Testing your boundaries, you move even closer to the handsome profiler, placing your lips back on his as they move together in unison. Spencer responds immediately, returning the kiss as his hands move to caress your face. As you gravitate ontop of him, Spencer breaks away. “What are you doing?” he asks. “Kissing you.” you reply with a warm smile, placing a soft kiss on his lips once again, “Do you want me to stop?” you pause, anxiously awaiting his response. He stares up at you in awe, his mouth opening and closing as he evaluates his reply. Slightly disappointed, you begin to climb off of him, stopping when his hand catches your leg. “I’m a virgin.” he blurts out before he can talk himself out of it, “I’m sorry, I should have told you. It’s just embarrassing...” “I am too.” you smile down at him, your eyes flickering down to his chest for a moment before meeting his eyes once again. “Are you sure you want to do this..?” he hesitates, “We can wait...” “Spencer..” you breathe, reaching down to intertwine your fingers with his, “I want this, but if you don’t want to do this, then we won’t do it. Don’t feel pressured by me because I can wait. But...if there’s anyone I trust to lose my virginity to, it’s you.” He gazes up at you as you speak. With every word that leaves your perfect pink lips, Spencer’s heart flutters faster and faster. Your thumbs move slowly against his knuckles in a soothing motion. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you lean down to kiss him softly on the lips. At first you are unsure, and the very last thing you want to do is force yourself on him. As you are about to pull away, you feel Spencer relax into the kiss, unlinking his hands from yours and placing them around your body. Your own hands drift to his short hair, tangling themselves amidst his soft brown locks. Without breaking the kiss, Spencer shifts upward, into a sitting position with you still in his lap. Your hands drift down to the hem of the gray t-shirt he is wearing, waiting for any sign of discomfort. When he appears unfazed, your trembling hands reach under his shirt, sliding up until they rest on his bare chest. His lips break away from yours, resting his forehead against your own. You open your eyes in confusion, only to be met by Spencer’s relaxed expression. His eyes remain closed as his breath comes slow and steady. You watch as he licks his lips, finally opening his eyes and nodding his head in consent. Your fingertips drift back down to his waist, tickling the skin as your nails lightly graze him. This time, your fingers grip the hem of his shirt, tugging the fabric up his body and over his head. Your plan does not go as smoothly as you had hoped when the fabric gets caught on his face. Giggling slightly, you untangle the shirt from him, pulling it swiftly off of his body and tossing it to the floor beneath you. He then returns the favour, gripping the hem of the oversized t-shirt you are wearing and pulling it over your head. He pauses to admire your beauty, only to realize that you aren't wearing a bra. "It's okay." you reassure him, taking his hands and placing them on your breasts, "You can touch me." Spencer licks his lips, slowly nodding as his hands begin to massage your aching breasts. You let out a small breathy moan, your heartbeat racing as he touches you. Your hands shoot down to the waistband of his pajama bottoms, slightly maneuvering yourself as you pull them down his hips. With nothing but the fabric of your underwear and his boxers separating you, you move your hair to one side before leaning over to kiss your loving boyfriend sweetly on the lips. "I love kissing you." he smiles, reaching up to move some stray hair behind your ear with one finger.   You smile back at him, placing your hands on his naked chest for a moment before moving to kiss his neck. You leave a trail of sweet soft kisses down his chest and stomach, stopping to gaze up at him as you reach the defined v of his pelvic muscles. Your hair tickles him as it follows, covering him like a blanket. You can feel his heart fluttering like a hummingbird in his chest as your fingers grip the waistband of his boxers. You pause for a moment, waiting for any sign of hesitation or doubt. When there is none, you pull his boxers down and wait for Spencer to remove them completely. You take a moment to admire his naked body, the same body that will be completely yours for the night. Realizing how exposed and vulnerable he probably feels, you lean down and catch his lips in a slow and passionate kiss. As your lips move in perfect unison, your hand makes it way up to where his length is pressed against your naked belly, gently grasping it with your soft hands. He moans into the kiss as you slowly stroke him. "Let's switch positions." you suggest,  moving to pull the sheets off of your practically naked bodies and rolling back over to your side of the hotel bed. Spencer complies, straddling your hips and leaning down to kiss you once again. This time, his hands are on your heated center, rubbing you through the thin fabric of your black lace underwear. Your breathing grows slow and uneven as he massages the most sensitive part of you. Then, he gains the courage to grip the hem of the only piece of fabric separating him from you and pull it down your hips and off of your body. "You're so beautiful." he whispers, practically towering over you. "Touch me." you beg him, taking his hand and placing it on your wet bundle of nerves. He obeys, softly massaging you for a moment before slipping a finger into your heated center. You moan, your breath suddenly growing short and uneven as he pumps his finger in and out of you. Closing your eyes, you feel an unfamiliar sensation begin to build up in your stomach, and are caught off guard when Spencer's lips are suddenly back on yours. Your hands are on his back, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your high. Your body begins to twitch as you let out a long stream of moans. Then, Spencer stop, pulling out his finger and examining your gorgeous face, now twisted with pleasure. He gives you a moment to come down from your high, gently kissing down your neck as you recover. "I want you, Spence." you breath through the orgasm, taking your boyfriend completely off guard, He pulls away from your neck, peering down at you in worry. Sensing his nervousness, you bring a hand up to his face, gently stroking his cheek with your fingers. "I don't want to hurt you." he whispers. "You won't." you promise, "Just go slow, and I'll tell you if it hurts." Spencer considers this for a moment before lining his length up with your entrance. You nod up at him, your hand slightly shaking as it drops from his face and grabs one of his hands. You take a deep breath as he slowly enters you, pausing for a moment for the okay. Taking another deep breath and giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you nod again, and he pushes a little further. This time you wince slightly, biting your lip for the small amount of pain you feel. "Are you okay?" Spencer pauses, obviously noticing your discomfort. "Yes." you smile, "It's going to hurt a little at first, but I want to do this. One more push." He takes your other hand in his, intertwining your fingers against the soft mattress of the bed as he pushes into you once more. This time you cry out in pain, gripping his hands tightly as you take long, deep breaths. Guilt instantly washes over Spencer's face, and he moves to pull out of you. "No." you insist, "Don't." He stills, hating the thought of him causing you any pain. As the pain slowly begins to fade, you nod up at him, gesturing for him to slowly move. He obliges, slowly beginning to move in and out of you. Soon enough, the pain passes and is replaced by pleasure. You let out a moan as he begins to quicken his pace, twisting your head to the side as your lips part. Spencer's eyes shut as your tight walls squeeze around him. "Spence.." you trail off, unable to form a coherent sentence, "I.....I'm gonna..." He buries his head in your neck, the sweet aroma of your vanilla perfume only heightening the sweet sensation he feels. You feel his hot breath on your neck and you let go of his hands, wrapping your arms around his figure and pulling him closer to you as you are both pushed over the edge. Your nails dig into his back as you climax, but not enough to break his skin. The sounds of you and Spencer panting fill the hotel room, and he gives you one last soft kiss before staring directly into your eyes. "I love you." he whispers just loud enough for you to hear him. "I love you too." you reply. He pulls out of you, reaching over to grab the mess of bed sheets and pull them over your bodies. You lie on your side and he lies next to you, wrapping his arms around you, and burying his face in your neck. You can feel his slowing heartbeat against your back as you drift off to sleep in his loving arms.  

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: Spence overhearing that you want to attend Comic Con, and taking the opportunity to ask you out on a date.

Talk Nerdy to Me//

Familiar faces encompass you in a sea of chatter and controlled commotion. Footsteps, both heavy and soft, rush around you, just itching to finish up for the day so that they can go home, lie down and catch up on whatever is good on Netflix. Okay, so maybe not everyone does that. Maybe the infamous Aaron Hotchner, your boss and an avid workaholic who works late hours and insists on getting the job done, goes home to his son Jack,  only to begin his second full-time job as a single father. David Rossi, on the other hand, will go home and write the night away. You smile at JJ, who is just about the closest friend you have here ever since you began working as a criminal profiler. She bids you a warm good night before she disappears down the long narrow hallway, her long blonde hair swaying behind her as she walks. She will go home to a loving family, her husband Will and her little bundle of joy, her son Henry. Your hand begins to cramp as you furiously write away at the papers in front of you, following up about the case you have just solved. Several bodies had been found scattered around Ohio with signs of rape and electrocution marks covering their skin, all young women around the same age with an appearance far too similar to yours. As always, the team had done their job and arrested the man responsible without firing a single bullet. Another fellow co-worker, Dr. Spencer Reid, had been acting strange around you all day. Usually, all he would do was ramble on and on, countless facts about serial killers that relate to the unsub, but today, he was oddly quiet. You turn your head, peering across the room at him. HIs actions mirror yours. His eyes are squinted, focused on the report in front of him. You worry about the good doctor sometimes, wondering what he does when finally goes home. You have heard many stories, terrible stories, about how a little over a year ago, he did have a life outside of work. A wonderful woman named Maeve who he truly loved with all of his heart. She was killed, murdered in cold blood, right in front of him. He never speaks of the incident, and you don't blame him. After all, why is it that terrible things always happen to extraordinary people? You shake your head of the many thoughts coiling inside of your brain, realizing that you have been staring at him. Luckily, his eyes have yet to meet yours. You take a deep breath, blinking to readjust your eyes back on the report in front of you. You scribble down a few more words, finally finished and ready to go home. You gather your papers together, standing up and making your way towards Hotch's office.

"Finished?" Hotch asks you with the faintest hint of a smile. It was rare for him to smile so he must be in a good mood tonight.

"Yeah." you confirm, "I can't wait to get home and crash."  Laughing, you hand him the completed follow up report, "There's a warm bed at home with my name on it." Examining his face with a shocking amount of precision, you squint your eyes at him, softening your voice, "You should do the same. Don't worry, I'm sure there will be more bad guys tomorrow."        

"I will." he sighs, his eyes never leaving the stack of papers in front of him, "Thank you for your concern. Have a good night."

"You too, Sir." you smile warmly at him, tearing your eyes from the stressed workaholic. You turn, spinning on your heel to face away from him, gripping the door handle firmly with your right hand and pulling it open. You take a few steps through the lengthy hallway, lost in your own thoughts. Suddenly, as if in slow motion, your body comes to a forced hault. Snapping out of your daze, your eyes widen in realization of what just happened. Spencer of course, being polite and gentle, apologizes for bumping into you.

"No no, it's completely my fault. I should've been watching where I was going." you smile up at him, running a nervous hand through your hair. You bend down, beginning to gather the mess of documents, all once neatly filed, that you practically knocked from his hands.

"Don't worry about it." he assures you with a cute, boyish smile, kneeling down to your level and gently taking the documents from your hands.

"Oh look at this mess." you sigh shaking your head, still frantically gathering stray sheets of paper from the carpeted floor of the Behaviour Analysis Unit, "My mind must have been somewhere else, I'm so sorry." you mutter on.

"Wow, and they say I like to ramble." Spencer teases, "Don't worry about it, seriously." Completely synchronized, the two of you stand up to your feet, your eyes meeting for the first time since you practically knocked him over. He analyzes your face, paying close attention to the dark circles under your eyes worsening with every passing night. "When is the last time you slept?" he asks curiously, his mouth slightly parted in careful speculation.

"You mean for over three hours?" you chuckle, "What day did we first leave for Ohio again..?" Your voice trails off and your mouth settles into what can be best described as a mix between a tight smile and a cringe. "I just have trouble getting my full eight hours when we are miles and miles away from home." you further explain. The genius nods, the worried expression on his face slightly fading.

"Hey so uh.." he starts, "I overheard you talking to JJ the other day about how you wanted to go to Comic Con..." he awkwardly fixes his short, curly, brown hair, licking his lips before continuing, "I actually have an extra ticket and was wondering if you wanted to go with me..?" Your eyes light up with anticipation, the corners of your mouth tilting upwards into a wide smile, flashing your white teeth at him.

"Are you serious?" you breathe in joy. Spence nods, his own expression quickly turning from nervous to surprised as he studies your broad smile and bright, ecstatic eyes."Oh my God, I would love that! You're the best, Spence!" Practically jumping forward, you pull him into a tight hug. His heart pounds in his chest as you engulf him. He raises his arms, softly wrapping them around your slim body.

[prettyboyimagines]

Update! (Over 3K followers?!?)

Hey readers! I hope you are all doing well and are enjoying your summer. Much more of you sent in requests than I anticipated! I am working hard to get them done, but it is quite a lengthy list. You can expect more semi-regular updates now that I am off for the summer.

In a week (the week of the 13th I believe) I may not have time to write because I am actually helping out at my karate summer camp.

Also, I managed to somehow hit over 3k followers?!? It thrills me to know that so many people are enjoying my writing!

That’s about it for now. If at any time you want to send in a request, I have finally set up request box! Also, if you want to contact me about anything (other than requests), or just want to say hi, my twitter is @wiingedgrace. I love it when new people start a conversation with me!😊

- Grace

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: Spencer taking you on a surprise date to watch fireworks on the Fourth of July. You appreciate the gesture and agree to join him, but things turn South quickly when the first firework goes off.

Fourth of July// lighthearted fluff Requested by insrugentserum (I’m actually Canadian but Happy Fourth of July to all of you Americans!) Your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid, and criminal profiler for the FBI, a title that made him seem so important, and more importantly, you loved teasing him with, had the Fourth of July weekend off, and had decided to surprise you. He hadn’t bothered to tell you any details of where you were going, except for to be dressed for the weather and be ready for 8 o'clock on the dot. Like the perfectionist you are, you spend all afternoon preparing yourself for the event, anxious yet excited for what he is planning. When the time finally arrives, you sit ready and waiting on the couch. A few knocks at the door startle you a little, after all you have never been fond of sudden noises. The door opens to reveal your boyfriend, gleaming and radiating with happiness.  “You certainly look beautiful tonight.” he smiles, taking a moment to examine you from head to toe.  “Thank you.” you beam, your gaze falling to the floor beneath you as your cheeks heat up and emit a rosy colour. He admires the sight of you, watching closely as you bite your lower lip in anticipation. “Well, we had better get going.” he states, ushering for you to follow him out the door and to his car. You cannot help but wonder what adventure awaits you tonight as you shift anxiously in your seat. After a few minutes of driving, you come to a stop outside of a field crowded with a colossal amount of people, all seemingly immersed in a sea of chatter. Spencer is first out of the car, walking around to the passenger side door and opening it for you. Maybe chivalry isn't as dead as you thought it was. You follow him to the trunk of the car, watching as he pulls a weaved picnic basket out of the trunk, along with a large, navy blue blanket. Slinging the blanket over his shoulder, he closes the trunk and intertwines his large hand with your petite one. As you walk, you admire the magnificent simplicity that nature has to offer. The sun is setting upon the horizon as several birds fly overhead, back to their nests for the night. It is particularly warm out tonight, with a slight, but refreshing breeze to briefly relieve the clusters of people of the heat. Perfect weather for a picnic.  You assist the young profiler with the blanket, giggling when he somehow manages to tangle himself in it.  “How is it that you catch conniving serial killers for a living, but a simple blanket has the ability to take you down?” you tease him.  “Shut up.” he mumbles as you untangle him from the blanket, successfully managing to spread it out on the ground by yourself. You sit down and he follows, placing the picnic basket in the space between the two of you. You eat in blissful silence, gravitating closer to each other. By the time you are done eating, you find yourself comfortably wrapped in Spencer’s arms.  “This is nice.” you sigh, relaxing into his arms. He kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair and peering up into the dark night sky. You tilt your chin up, gently cupping his chin with your hand and guiding his lips to meet yours. Your lips move in perfect unison as the crowds of people around you go about their lives. He is first to break away, urging you to look up into the night sky. Your eyes meet the single bright red neon light, and your body stills. The smile plastered across your face quickly disappears as the first firework explodes in the night sky above you. You let out a quick yelp, throwing your hands up to shield your ears as your body shivers in terror. Spencer immediately turns his attention to your quivering form as another firework goes off.  “Are you okay?” he asks.  You cannot bring yourself to respond and your head is pounding on the inside. Spencer acts fast, quickly packing up the remainder of the picnic and guiding you to your feet. Your legs are shaking and you lean against your boyfriend for support, never once removing your hands from your ears. Once you are in the passenger seat, Spencer shuts the door for you and rushes to the driver’s side, rushing to put distance between you and the fireworks. Once they are a mere echo among the night, Spencer pulls into a nearby Starbucks, rushing in and returning with a hot chocolate for you.  “Look at me,” he urges, “Deep breaths in and out.” You remove your hands from your ears as you begin to regain control of your body. He hands you the hot drink, and you accept it with a small smile. He strokes your hair for a few moments as you calm down. Finally, he asks, “What’s wrong?”  “I um..” you trail off, collecting your thoughts “This is so stupid..” you cut yourself off, “I’m afraid of loud noises...”  “Phonophobia?” Spencer asks, shifting his attention to your back and rubbing it in small circular motions, “I’m so sorry, I should have told you where I was taking you-” “It’s okay.” you smile, “I just hope I didn’t ruin your night. I know you love this type of thing.”  “You could never ruin my night.” he reassures you, “In fact, I have an idea.”  You raise a curious eyebrow at him, watching as he drives further and further away from the booming fireworks. He pulls over when he reaches a quiet clearing by the forest. Like before, he guides you out of the car, walking over to the trunk. This time, he pulls out a package of sparklers and a lighter.  “All the fun of fireworks, but with less noise.” he smiles, handing you a sparkler and lighting it for you. You run around in circles with it, swinging your arms around and laughing. Soon, Spencer follows with a sparkler of his own. The two of you quickly make your way through the pack, dancing and laughing in the moonlight. You quickly draw a heart in the air before your final sparkler burns out, throwing it to the side and running into Spencer’s arms. He catches your lips with his, and you smile into him.  “I love you.”  “And I love you.” he smiles back at you as a firework explodes somewhere in the distance.

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: The stress of life becomes too much for you to handle so you slip away into the bathroom to shed a few tears. Spencer has been studying your actions all day and follows you.

Drowning Requested by:  ouralliecooper You have been feeling the overwhelming amount of stress on you all day long. Between the cases and the lack of confidence you have had in yourself lately, you are drowning. That suffocating feeling of air being trapped in your lungs has returned, and the nightmares have become worse than they ever have been. You have never been one to allow your emotions to surface publicly, so when you feel the familiar weight of tears threatening to fall at any second, you excuse yourself and head straight for the bathroom. As you turn into the long hallway that extends the length of the building, the pace of your footsteps increases. Finally, you reach the bathroom. Ducking into the closest stall, you immediately lock the door behind you and collapse against the wall onto the ground. You bring your trembling hands up to cover your face as violent sobs erupt through your body. A few seconds later, a soft voice calls out your name. Your head snaps towards the source of the voice, staying silent. When the voice repeats your name for a second time, you shake your head and wipe your wet face dry with the sleeve of your shirt.  “Yes?” you call out happily. Your body quivers in the fear that Spencer, a colleague whom you have had a massive crush on since the moment you first laid eyes on him, was going to see you like this-a complete and utter mess.  “Hotch told me to come get you, we have a case.” he explains. A sense of relief passes over you. He has no idea why you are in here. “I’ll be right there!” you call out to him, still unmoving from the same position on the floor. You watch his footsteps descend out through the wall behind the doorway. Taking a deep breath, you stand, unlocking the stall and walking towards the mirror.  “Are you okay?” Spencer whispers from a few feet away. His voice, as soft and comforting as it is, frightens you.  “Yeah.” you smile back at him. A blatant lie. “No you’re not.” he frowns, taking a few steps towards you. He examines your face, more particularly the smudged makeup that fell from your eyes that resembles a raccoon. “Were you crying?”  “No.” you insist a little too quickly, “I had to use the bathroom.”  “Please don’t lie to me.” he begs like a small puppy.  “What is there to lie about?” you laugh.  “I’ve been watching your behaviour all week-your lack of eye contact and communication with the rest of the team-” he pauses, peering at you for any reaction. When there is none, he continues, “I know you're excellent at hiding this type of thing but, you jump at the smallest of things and isolate yourself for hours on end doing case work. You are not fine, and I want to do something to help. I am not here to pry at your personal life, I just want to know why someone whom I care about so deeply is hurting.” His kind words shock you. Most people take the response ‘fine’ as acceptable and move on with the conversation, usually avoiding the subject completely. Spencer Reid is not most people. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes and you are unable to control yourself for any longer. “You went through something traumatic, and you haven’t shown any emotion since. No one is expecting you to bounce back so quickly. If you need to take a few days off, or even just need a good cry or someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”  All at once, you fall apart in front of him. His expression drops even further as the first tear falls from your eye and rolls down your cheek.  “I’m sorry.” you sob, hiding your face from him in embarrassment. “Hey..” he whispers, taking your hands in his, “Don’t ever apologize for crying, especially in front of me.” The gentle nature of his touch soothes every ache in your body. Bringing one hand up to your face, he tilts your chin up with his finger, swiftly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s okay, you can talk to me.”  “The nightmares-” you pause, biting your lip to steady yourself, “I don’t know how you did it.”  “Did what?” he asks, arching his eyebrow in confusion.  “Maintain your sanity after being taken by Tobias.” you whisper, meeting his eyes for the first time.  “I didn’t.” he smiles sadly, “I was loosing my mind for quite some time...I still am actually.”  “I don’t understand.” you tilt your head slightly to the side. His hand returns to yours, breaking eye contact for a brief second to assemble his words.  “Well, I became addicted to dilaudid for one thing, and I have never been the same since.” he sighs. “I was weak and I nearly let a delusional man ruin my entire life. But you-” His fingers tenderly move to wipe a tear from your cheek. “-you’re strong. The strongest person I know. You were tortured and objectified by a repulsive man. Yet, you have not let that break you. Tears do not mean weakness. You have the right to cry. If anything, it makes you stronger, because that crushing amount of pain you feel makes you fight. You may struggle, but you keep on fighting. And that immense amount of strength...” he smiles, “That makes you a warrior.” You are suddenly at a loss for words as you gaze into his eyes. Spencer stares back at you with the same loving adoration, desperate to help you in any way that he can. Still holding onto both of his hands, you decide to take a leap of faith, closing the distance between the two of you until your lips meet his own. He kisses you back with a fiery passion, your intertwining hands remaining between your chests. Your heart flutters like a hummingbird as he softly pulls away. Resting your forehead on his, you whisper a sweet,

“Thank you. I um...I really needed that.” Spencer smiles, and all you can do is gaze into his eyes for awhile longer.  “I should probably go see Hotch.” you sigh. “Yeah...so I might've made that up.” he chuckles, the bright gleam in his eyes never once fading.  “Spencer Reid, you sly dog.” you laugh, sealing the distance between you with another sweet kiss. In that single moment, all of your troubles seemed to fade away, and you think maybe, just maybe, you will be okay after all.

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: Being terrified in a B.A.U blackout. Luckily, Spence knows just how to comfort you.

Finding Comfort in the Darkness

“The unsub is a male, probably in his mid twent-” Spencer stops mid sentence as the entire room is engulfed by darkness. A mix of whispers and shouts circulate around the room, and no one is quite sure of what is going on. Among the commotion, several theories arise. Your body seizes, standing painfully still as your eyes scan the darkness for a familiar set of brown eyes and tousled hair. “EVERYONE PLEASE REMAIN CALM!” the voice of your boss booms out into the seemingly empty atmosphere. Upon hearing his voice, the ruckus subsides, leaving you to something even worse, deafening silence. You are not one to scare easily, but the fact that you are unarmed and being hunted down like wild animals by a complete psychopath does send a few shivers down your spine. Besides, no power at the B.A.U also means that the security system is down, which allows for easy access to, well, anyone. Suddenly, a small light illuminates the room and flickers gently off of the handsome profiler’s face. Casually, you take a few steps towards him, immediately making eye contact with him as you come into view. As if in some strange assembly line, several more small candles are lit. As Aaron Hotchner begins to name off safety precautions that you have memorized, you take a few more steps closer to Spencer, When you finally reach his side, he studies your face worryingly,  “Are you okay?” he whispers under the loud orders. You open your mouth slightly, about to respond to him, when a loud bang echoing throughout the black abyss causes you to jump directly into his arms. You take a second to appreciate Reid’s reflexes. If he had not moved his right hand, your hair would be in flames by now. “Hey..” he starts, “What’s wrong? I've never seen you so paranoid.”  “Nothing. I just prefer my threats to be visible..especially threats who kidnap women of my age and appearance and use them as personal sex slaves.” you shudder at the thought of being tied up in some musty old, secluded basement, forced to surrender to the will of a lunatic who blames all women for his problems. Spencer notices the look of sheer terror in your eyes and pulls you closer, laying a comforting hand on your back.  “Nobody will do that to you. I won’t let anyone lay a finger on you.” he reassures in a soft whisper, kissing the top of your head, “I promise.”  “I know.” you mumble into his chest, “Thank you.” “For what?” he asks, pulling back to face you.  “Protecting me.” you begin, “Being there for me. Just..holding me.”  He raises his head, gazing lovingly into your eyes. His eyes flicker down to your lips, enchanted by your overwhelming beauty. “Would it be...” he pauses, licking his lips and collecting his thoughts, “I’m sorry...this is completely inappropriate and stupid of me to ask but...would it be alright if I...kissed you?” Your eyes widen, surprised by his sudden request. “Don’t feel obligat-” “Are you serious?” you smile, the corners of his mouth tipping downwards into a frown, “Did you seriously just ask me that?”  “I..I’m sorry..I know its ridiculous.” his voice is small, devastated even. “Of course you can kiss me, Spence.” you beam up at him, throwing your arms snugly around his neck and catching him completely off guard. No further words are exchanged as he closes the distance between you, meeting your soft lips with his. The comfort of his lips on yours allows you to forget about the horrifying situation that you are in for a moment, practically melting into Spencer’s arms. As the two of you break apart, you rest your foreheads together and peer into each others eyes. A smile is permanently etched on your face as he opens his mouth to speak.  “Would you like to join me for dinner sometime?” he asks, the dim glow of the candle light flickering off of his face. Aside from the colossal amount of uniforms in the room, the setting is actually pretty romantic, and you feel as if you were the only two in the room. The knots in your stomach settle, and as if by some miracle, the florescent lights in the office flicker back on. Reluctantly, you break away from the profiler.  “I would love that.” you whisper up at him.

[prettyboyimagines]

Writing mood!

Send me some prompts and I'll do what I can!♡

[prettyboyimagines]

NOT AN IMAGINE (will delete later)

Sorry for the lack of posts, blame school -.- i will post new imagines soon (i promise!) i love you all <3

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: During a shootout with the unsub, Spencer takes a bullet to the neck for you. He is immediately rushed to the hospital and you refuse to leave his side until he wakes up.

"You should get some sleep, it's getting late out." your boss, a tough brute of a man with a soft spot for his team, Aaron Hotchner suggests.

You turn to face him, your eyes obviously tired and worn out, "I want to be here when he wakes up." you explain, "I won't leave his side until then." From previous encounters, Hotch is aware of how stubborn you can be when it comes to ensuring the safety of the people you care about. It is obvious to him, as well as the rest of the team, of your budding feelings for Spencer, and his own for you. Although the both of you remain oblivious to these more than obvious feelings, it is crystal clear that you care for each other.

"Alright." Hotch sighs, "I want you to get some sleep at some point tonight though."

"I will." you nod with a weak smile. Your boss smiles back at you, almost depressingly, before turning to leave the two of you alone, "Hey, Hotch?" you call before he has a chance to disappear, "Thank you." With another smile, Hotch nods his head before bidding you a soft goodnight and exiting the room through the dreaded Hospital door.

Finally left alone, you peer down at the genius. Usually, the profiler is bursting with life-as well as facts. Now, he lays still, like a museum statue, his big brown eyes once dancing with life remain closed. His pink lips which you often find yourself thinking about-your gaze inveitably drifting to them as he rambles on and on about countless facts and statistics-now are slightly parted in an unconsious state. The steady beep of the heart monitor floods your ears, causing your head to pound like a drum. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, bringing a gentle hand down to carefully caress his face, removing a stray strand of hair from his forehead with your fingers. Your lips twitch upwards into a fragile smile.

"You're an idiot, you know?" you whisper to his unconsious body, "You're way too smart to die." you giggle, your eyes continuing to examine his face. Finally, your expression falls, a single tear rolling down your cheek as you mumble, "This wasn't supposed to happen to you. You should have let me go. But you just had to play hero, didn't you?" You grab his exposed hand with your own, rubbing your thumb soothingly back and forth across his knuckles, "Please wake up." you plead, "I need you." You lower your head, crying softly to yourself. Suddenly, you hear a soft mumble, just barely audible, say your name.

Your head snaps up and your heartbeat quickens. A pair of two curious brown eyes meet your gaze. Instantly, you are in hysterics, unable to stop smiling. "You're okay." The young profiler smiles back at you.

"If you weren't so fragile right now, I would slap you." you warn him, earning a laugh from Spencer.

"For saving your life?" he questions, his smile quickly faltering as he notices your eyes, now puffy and red, "Have you been crying?" he asks, attempting to sit up onto his elbows.

"Don't." you warn, gently pushing him back down, "I'm going to go get a doctor. Stay awake or so help me I'll-"

"I'll stay awake." he promises, "But only if you promise not to cry over me."

"Spencer...I almost lost you today." you say, biting back more tears, "I can't lose you."

"I'm right here." he smiles, raising a hand to cup the side of your face. You immediately take notice of his thumb, gently caressing your cheek. You lean closer to him, grabbing his hand as you do.

"You saved my life." you whisper.

He smiles, his eyes flickering back and forth across your face, studying it carefully, "You're worth saving." Finally, you lean forward, closing the space between the two of you. His shallow breaths shadow over your lips as you lean even closer until his lips are pressed against your own. You take your time, bringing your hands up to his face as his eyes flutter shut. You smile into the kiss as you hear the heart monitor speed up, finally breaking apart after a few long and passionate seconds. You take a few deep breaths, your eyes never leaving his. Your lips part as his thumb swiftly brushes over them. Eventually, you break eye contact, smiling down at the ground and pulling away.

"I'll go get the doctor." you repeat sheepishly. Spencer nods, mirroring the same smile as you.

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: After nearly losing you during a case, Spence confesses his feelings to you.

After an excruciating long and painful day on the job, the team has finally landed back in DC, ready to say goodnight and head home, only to do it all again tomorrow. Your overnight bag hits the floor beside your desk with a loud thump as you collapse in your chair. A painful twist deep in your stomach causes you to wince, the memories of the day flooding back to you.  You were first to arrive at the unsub’s house. Not bothering to wait for back up, you entered the house alone, with nothing but a gun and your fists to protect you. The unsub attacked you from behind, knocking you out. When you awoke, you were strapped down to a bed. Instinct set in and you tugged away at the restraints around your wrists. Eventually the unsub entered the room again and well..climbed on top of you. While struggling with the unsub, he managed to stab you in the stomach-thankfully, missing any major organs and arteries. He raised his arm once again, positioning himself to bring the knife down on you once again when suddenly, your colleagues burst in the room. At that same moment, you blacked out with no recollection of what happened next. The team had argued for you to stay at the hospital overnight, but you, being stubborn as hell, refused. 

You stand up before your colleague, and closest friend, Spencer Reid can take notice of your obvious pain. Gathering your things, you make your rounds around the building, bidding a warm goodnight to each one of your team members. You absolutely hate the feeling of being hovered over and can’t wait to go home to your own bed. As you push open the heavy glass door, a frantic voice advancing towards you invades your ears. 

“Wait!” Spencer pleads, now only a few feet from you, “You really shouldn't be alone tonight, you were bleeding out only 7 hours and 36 minutes ago.” “I’m fine, Spence.” you reassure him with a soft smile.  “Oh really? So you weren't holding your stomach and wincing in pain about five minutes ago?” he raises an eyebrow at you. You remain quiet, unable to defend yourself, biting your lip, your eyes trailing to the ground, “You’re walking when a limp when nobody is watching you-and something tells me you won’t be able to sleep soundly tonight-”   “What are you trying to say?” you whisper, your voice breaking in a desperate attempt to hold it together, “I can handle myself just fine.” “There’s no doubt in my mind that you can.You are so strong and brave...it’s just that you almost died today, I-” he pauses, his eyes meeting yours, “I almost lost you today.” “But you didn’t.”  “I watched that man straddle you, nearly plunging the knife into your heart. By the time I was at your side, you were unconscious. The blood was everywhere and-”  You have never seen the genius like this before, nearly shaking at the memory, unable to contain his emotions.  “I just can’t lose you.” he repeats, “Ever since you walked into the room that one foggy morning..I..you’ve changed me.” Your lips part in shock as your heart begins to pound like a drum in your chest. Now he reaches down, taking your hands in his own. “You've taught me that life isn't just about facts and statistics.” he continues, “It’s about the moments you have in between. Whenever I’m with you, I’m happy. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I can’t bare to live a life without you in it.”  You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a step closer to the profiler, you close any space between the two of you as your fingers intertwine with his, carefully pressed between both of your chests. You peer up at him through your long lashes, gazing into his welcoming chocolate brown eyes. Then, in one swift movement, you step onto your tiptoes, ignoring the slight pain in your stomach as your lips meet his in a long, passionate kiss. 

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: Spence fooling around with you while investigating a crime scene.

“The unsub was alone with her, he must’ve known that there were no witnesses around.” Spencer starts, “Yet, he chose to record her.” 

“He could have easily gotten away with it. This guy is obviously careful-there are no prints anywhere. Not on the car, not on the camera-” “Canadian serial killers Paul Bernardo and Karla Holmolka recorded their killings to watch over again. They were sexual sadists who got off on reliving the experience. The difference is that they hid the footage from the police. In fact, in the end it was what Karla used as a bargaining chip for immunity. This unsub seems to be quite the opposite.” “He left the camera and the footage..it’s almost as if he’s sending a message to us.”  The young profiler digs through the bag resting on the right side of his body, pulling out a video camera similar to the unsub’s. With a brief hand motion, he ushers for you to stand across from him. You follow his lead, standing in front of him with your eyes trailed on the camera.  “He stands here and tells her that no harm will come to her if she obeys him.” Reid begins.  “Instinct kicks in and she agrees. So she kneels down, her eyes never daring to leave the camera.” You explain, kneeling down just as the victim must have, “And then he tells her to beg for her life.” You flinch as an unexpected flash goes off, startling you. “Spence!” you whine, readjusting your now disoriented eyesight. “Sorry.” he smiles, “The way the sun is hitting you right now makes you glow.” Just like that, heat begins radiating from your cheeks.Another flash goes off.  “Do you mind?” you smile, bringing your hands up to cover your cheeks. “Not at all.” Spencer chuckles, snapping yet another photo of you. This time, your tongue is sticking out at the camera. You step up to your feet, grabbing the camera from Spencer’s hands and taking a few steps back before snapping a picture of him. He raises his eyebrows at you, accepting the challenge. Naturally, he strikes a ridiculous pose that consists of his hands up by his face, in the formation of a gun, and his lips perfectly shaped into a blue steel. You giggle as you take the picture. Once the flash goes off, he quickly replaces the previous pose with a wide, open mouthed, smile. His hands are up by his face, forming two “L” shapes, mimicking a camera. You snap another picture.  “Dr. Reid knows how to have fun, would you look at that!” you tease him. He smirks, taking the camera from your hands and aiming the lens towards the both of you. You question his motives until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, causing you to blush madly. Once the picture is taken, you smirk over at him. “Two can play at that game.” Immediately your lips are on his, causing his eyes to widen as the flash goes off. You break the kiss to examine the picture. “You look ridiculous!” you laugh at him. He finds himself gazing up at your eyes, his own eyes trailing to your lips every now and then.  This time it is him who closes the space between the two of you. As his lips meet yours for a second time, his hands rest softly on your face in a caressing manner. The camera falls from your hands as you are taken by surprise, but neither of you seem to care. You bring your own hands up, tangling them in Spencer’s soft hair. Your lips move in perfect harmony, slow and passionately. After a few seconds, he pulls away.  “What if they were lovers?” he asks. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head.  “It would explain why we never found her body-” “And why he broke his pattern. He came all the way out here to make a video of his partner begging for her life to throw us off his trail.”  “They left blood to make it seem like he murdered her-but he didn't. I think we’re dealing with two unsubs.” you infer.  “This completely changes the profile. We’ve got to go tell Hotch and the others.” “Spence..” you trail off as he picks up the discarded camera. “Yeah?” he asks, turning around to face you.You respond by running towards him, your lips meeting his in another kiss. You break apart abruptly, gazing up into his eyes for a second. His thumb trails over your lips, admiring your beauty.  “Do you want to..um..” he trails off, stumbling over his own words, “go out sometime..with..me, I mean..”  “I would love to.” you smile back at him, “After we close this case.”  He takes your hand, intertwining it with his. Hand in hand, you make your way to the black SUV.

[prettyboyimagines]

Imagine: The team is sure that you are the unsub but have no proof. Spencer is determined to crack you, but you surprise him.

Outsmarted//mature content Morgan practically stomps out of the interrogation room, fed up with your arrogant attitude and lack of willingness to provide useful information.The team only has one more hour to get you to break.

"Let me try talking to her." Spence insists, studying Morgan's gestures of frustration carefully.  "Be my guest, kid. She's impossible." Morgan sighs, moving aside for Reid to pass by, "We only have an hour until she's free." He grips the door knob to the interrogation room, pulling it open to reveal a profile view of you. Your eyes remain transfixed on the blank wall in front of you, not making so much as a move to face the determined profiler. Instead you smirk, listening carefully to his light footsteps as they ascend on you,  

"By the sound of your light, carefully paced footsteps, you must be the smart one of the group, the genius if you will?" you state, still staring into space. Spencer is taken back by your intelligence, and his perception has changed completely, not sure what to expect from you anymore. Finally, he takes a seat in front of you, your eyes meeting his own. You silently evaluate his appearance, taking note of his every feature. His short brown hair shapes his face perfectly, showcasing a pair of innocent chocolate brown eyes and soft voluptuous pink lips. He can't be much older than you are "Young and cute too.You must be the youngest one on the team, but I guarantee you are the most intelligent." You pause for a brief second to smile. If my calculations are correct, your time is almost up." 

"The only person that you are hurting here is yourself." Spencer tries directly. His mind is racing a million miles per minute as he studies you. desperately trying to ignore your obvious beauty. "I seem to be at a disadvantage here." you state, tilting your head to the side in curiosity, "You know my name, but I don't know yours."  "Dr. Spencer Reid." he replies.  "Doctor huh?" you scoff, "You must have quite a few degrees to have earned that fancy title." "Why did you do all of this?" the handsome profiler asks.   "What makes you so sure it was me?" you challenge right back.  "Do you know what I see when I look at you?" he squints his eyes, folding his hands neatly on the table and gathering his thoughts, "I see an intelligent young woman, full of potential. But I also see a scared little girl, with a hatred towards men, stemming from problems with your father as a child." "You know nothing about me." you snap, your voice still somehow calm and articulate. "I know that your father used to beat and rape your mother, and that one day he was going to hurt you so your mother confronted him and he murdered her. I know that to rebel, you became the very thing that your father hated. a call girl.  Why would you throw your life away so easily?" 

"And what about you, doctor? What traumatic event as a child led you to join the FBI? A handsome guy like you, smart too, still not married at this age? You're obviously successful. Have you ever even been with a woman before, Spencer?" The shockingly personal nature of the question causes the profiler to break eye contact for a quick moment. "You know, despite what you may think, any woman would be happy to be with you."  "It's in your best interest to cooperate with us." he states bluntly, ignoring your previous comment. The tips of your mouth curve upwards into a coy smile. Then, in one smooth action, you delicately tilt your head to the side as your eyes continue to study his, your hair naturally collecting on the right side of your body. The simple movement emphasizes the dangerously low cut shirt you are wearing, as well as your now protruding collarbone along with the soft flesh on your neck. Expertly, you reach across the table, covering his large hand with one of your own.  "We all have our demons." you whisper, so faint he can just barely hear you, "But what you're insisting is that I must be punished for my so-called crimes. Will you punish me, doctor?" Spencer nearly jumps out of his chair, his breath beginning to quicken as he licks his lips. Still, he makes no effort to rip his hand from yours. The truth is, he is intrigued by you, oddly attracted to your nature and compelled by your body movements. "Seems like you haven't felt loved in a long time, Spencer. Will you let me make you feel good?" When he doesn't respond, you continue teasing him, "My body, hot and sweaty against yours as we kiss like two newly weds and make love in the mere glow of the moonlight, illuminating our bodies. You're a soft lover, I can feel it. I don't get many of those, you know." For a moment, you remain quiet, watching the handsome profiler.  "My demons don't drive me completely psychotic to the point of murder." he sneers, finally tearing his hand away.  "The look in your eyes tells me that you want me, right here and now. But you're a professional. You gave up on playing into my fantasy when you realized what you really want, me." you pause, acknowledging your surroundings, "And with that, it looks like your time's up, Spencer."  Just then, Hotch opens the door, addressing the fact that they have no proof, and you are free to leave. Spencer stands as you do, disappointed that for once in his life, someone has outsmarted him. As you strut out of the room, swaying your hips from side to side, you stop beside him, bringing your lips dangerously close to his ear and breathing, "May we meet again, doctor."  Your hot breath tickles his ear, sending shivers up his spine. As you exit the small enclosed space, Spencer remains standing, left with the all too vivid memories of your intense words and seductive stare.